by David Wood
“Look at the ends of the flippers,” Slater said. “It looks like there are little nubs on them, like digits.”
“Maybe,” Aston said, “but it’s difficult to tell. It could just be a trick of the camera, what with the murky water.”
“And how about this?” Holloway moved new images into view that showed a curve of dark flank that seemed to be riddled with small studs of bone or scale.
Aston leaned closer still, fascinated. “Maybe a fresh water shark no one has seen before?” he suggested, genuinely racking his brain now for answers.
Holloway pulled another picture to the top. It showed a clearer, larger section of the thing’s body and this time a crest of long bony spines was stark against the murky water.
“Jesus Christ.” Aston stood back in surprise, and then quickly went back in for a second look. “This has the hallmarks of some kind of, I don’t know, basilosaurus maybe. But they weren’t spined. Honestly, anything like this is a bit out of my area of expertise.”
Holloway pounced on the suggestion. “Saurus? You mean a dinosaur?” He rubbed his hands together in anticipation of Aston’s reply.
Aston flapped one hand. “It can’t be a dinosaur! I mean, it could be some creature descended from something like a basilosaurus or similar. I just wish we had a better idea of how big it was.”
“I’ve been doing some calculations,” Laine said. “In one of the photos you can see stones and what looks like an old diesel can. Based on the images and the small amount of visible objects, my guess is that thing, whatever it might be, is over fifty feet long.”
Everyone in the room tuned to stare at the cryptozoologist. Carly made a small noise in her throat then reddened, embarrassed. Holloway’s grin threatened to split his head in two.
“That’s ridiculous,” Aston said. Laine handed him the photograph in question and pointed out the oblong shape lying in the mud beneath the tip of the flipper. But still… “Your calculations must be way off.”
Laine shrugged. “It’s possible. But even a conservative estimate on the information available suggests at least thirty-five feet. And that’s very conservative.”
“But your reference points are not particularly clear or obvious. There’s a lot of guessing, right?” Aston said, trying to nudge the man to admit he was deliberately overstating the issue.
“I’ve lived here my whole life,” Laine replied matter-of-factly. “I know this lake and the sort of detritus that gathers at the bottom.”
There was silence for a few moments. Eventually Aston said, “We have to be careful not to get too carried away. Good science, good research, is about taking your time and double and triple-checking everything. Jumping to conclusions or making uncertain conclusions from limited data is the worst thing we can do now. We don’t even know if this thing is a predator or some kind of giant grass-eating manatee!”
Holloway threw back his head and laughed, a harsh guffaw that sounded to Aston distinctly like Ah-HA! He winced internally. What had the crazy old guy got next?
The billionaire pushed everything else aside to make a clear spot on the table then reverentially laid one more photo on the dark wood. “I would say it was an apex predator, Mister Aston.”
A variety of gasps and groans sounded around the room. The picture showed, in clear close-up, a section of bony jaw. Plainly visible were at least two rows of wickedly pointed, backwards-facing teeth.
“Just think of the money and prestige to be gained from this giant prehistoric beauty!” Holloway said.
Aston kept his silence. If Holloway was correct, and Aston still doubted it, there were plenty of considerations the man hadn’t yet measured.
Chapter 19
After issuing instructions to move the Merenneito back to the area where the cameras had captured the recent images, Holloway had sent for Joaquin and declared the two of them would take the dinghy to town and get “all the fixings” for a celebratory feast. As they motored away, and Laine and Makkonen pored over the maps to decide the best course and search pattern, Aston followed Slater and Carly back out on deck.
While Slater explained all they had learned about Dave, which was depressingly little, Aston stared after the rapidly shrinking dinghy, Joaquin’s bulk obvious even from a distance. Were they getting into something that would prove too much to handle? Just what the hell were those pictures showing? He was finding it increasingly hard to maintain any kind of professional or personal skepticism in the face of the combined evidence and legends. The huge lake suddenly seemed colder than ever. And far, far bigger.
“It’s not okay!” A note of fear hung in Carly’s strident voice.
Aston turned his attention back to them. With Dave gone, they needed Carly to hold it together until they completed the job.
“I know,” Slater said, consoling. “It’s not, but I’m not sure what else we can do.”
Tears streaked Carly’s cheeks. “Dave is a good guy. He wouldn’t just leave.”
“That’s what I told Aston,” Slater said. “And I also told him that if we don’t hear anything from Dave in the next twenty-four hours, we’ll go to the local police and have them begin a search.”
“We should go now!” Carly insisted.
Aston stepped in. “Honestly, Carly, I don’t really trust the local police chief. And he certainly doesn’t trust us.”
Carly looked from Aston to Slater and back again. “Did the monster get him?” she asked. They didn’t answer right away, so she pressed her point. “He goes out for photos, goes to town and then just disappears, doesn’t come back.”
“We don’t know what—” Slater started.
“We don’t know anything!” Carly became angry as well as hurt. “Where’s the boat he took? Maybe he went to town, had a great old time, and then came back like he said he would, but didn’t get this far. Did you think of that? Do you remember those pictures we were just looking at?”
Slater reached out, put a hand on Carly’s arm.
“And what about Gaszi?” Carly demanded. “Has everyone forgotten about that guy? A lot of people are just wandering off on this trip, don’t you think?”
A contemplative silence hung in the air. No one had anything to say for a few moments, lost in their own thoughts.
Eventually Slater said, “I suppose the only real question right now is whether we continue or not?”
“Are you asking me?” Carly said.
“I’d like to hear your thoughts.”
“I want to go to the police about Dave,” she said. “Now, not later.” She crossed her arms tight, defiantly shielding herself against argument.
“Tell you what, I’ll go in the morning,” Aston said, keen to head off any enmity between the two remaining members of the film crew. “Holloway has the motorboat now anyway, and by the time they’re back it’ll be late.” He paused, grinned without much humor. “I don’t want to go out across the lake in the dark. We’ll carry on, have our dinner and whatever else the madman has planned, then first thing in the morning I’ll go directly to Rinne. That okay?” He didn’t relish the idea, but Carly was right.
Carly deflated slightly, maybe relieved there wasn’t going to be further disagreement. “Okay.”
* * *
They busied themselves for what remained of the late afternoon investigating the region where the photos had been captured the previous night. No sure hits on sonar or anything else definitive came their way, the slow business of monster hunting once again winding down to its lowest gear.
Like so many sections of the lake shore, this place was riddled with underwater passageways, many of which would be large enough for a creature of substantial size to squeeze through. Of course, there was no telling how far any of them went, or which of them narrowed or disappeared entirely, and right now there were too many to explore individually, so they kept searching. Any one of them could
potentially be some kind of lair.
“Look there,” Aston said, moving quickly to the screen showing a feed from a high definition camera attached to the underside of the Merenneito. “Can we zoom in?”
Laine operated some controls and the image swept deeper into the lake.
“We need more light,” Aston said.
Laine hit another switch and a bank of powerful halogen spotlights along the hull snapped on. The camera flared out for a second, then matched the new exposure levels and showed more detail than ever. Silt and particulate matter sparkled and drifted past the lens, but the creases and ridges of rock puncturing the lakebed mud were clear now.
“Slow down,” Aston said. “Pan left a bit. Bit more. There! See those?”
A trio of odd-looking creatures swam lazily through the water, not far above the bottom. Heart hammering in his chest, Aston turned to gape at the others.
“What are we supposed to be looking at? Those fish?” Slater asked.
“Look closer. Those are skate!” The small, ray-like creatures, with their long tails and wing-like fins, seemed to not so much swim as fly through the depths.
Slater leaned in, brow creased in confusion. “Skates only live in salt water, right? In the sea.”
Aston knew for certain she was right. It was his job to know this stuff. What he saw down there was not a freshwater creature, but he had no doubt he had identified it correctly. “Yeah. They shouldn’t be here,” he said quietly as his mind worked through possibilities to explain their presence.
“Can’t some fish live in both salt and fresh water?” Slater asked.
“Some, sure. There are anadromous fish like salmon, smelt, sturgeon, which are born in freshwater but spend most of their lives in the sea, but then return to fresh water to spawn. Then there are catadromous fish, which generally live in fresh water and spawn in salt water. Certain types of eels, for example. And there are creatures that are happy in brackish water, you know, a mix of salt and fresh, like low salinity oceanside lakes or something. But I’ve never heard of skate living in fresh water.”
“So how can this be?” Laine asked.
“I don’t know,” Aston admitted. “I’d love to catch one. I’ll wager they’re a unique variation on the species. We might have discovered something entirely new here. I know it’s not what you’re all after, but this is pretty fucking exciting stuff for someone like me!”
Makkonen wandered up behind them to watch. The taciturn captain’s brow was creased. “You’re sure about this?” he asked, but the others simply stared.
Slater’s eyes widened. “If we could prove the existence of a new species, that would make this whole expedition worthwhile even if we don’t find a monster, right?”
“Definitely!” Aston said, trying not to sound like a kid at Christmas. Perhaps he could escape this job with a positive bank balance and his professional reputation intact, enhanced even. He could get papers published out of this. He might get the opportunity to name a new species. There were numerous skate already identified, dozens of genera, but nothing freshwater, he was sure of it. Calm down, Sam. He took a deep breath. There was a strong possibility for how these things came to be here and it didn’t automatically mean they had a new species on their hands.
“Maybe the monster is a large skate,” Laine offered, interrupting Aston’s thoughts.
“That doesn’t match up with the images we’ve found,” Slater said. “Not by a long way.”
“You know what this means?” Aston asked.
They both looked at him.
Aston stood back from the screen and shook his head. “It means at least one of these channels leads all the way to the ocean.”
“We’re dozens of miles from the ocean,” Laine said. “Maybe more. Is that really possible?”
“I don’t see any other way that those things can be here,” Aston said. “Their ancestors must have worked their way here and become comfortable with the brackish conditions over many generations. Which means there has to be access back and forth between their natural marine habitat and this lake.”
“So if that’s true,” Laine went on, “then our creature may well be a seafaring critter that’s discovered this same access to our lake.”
Aston turned to the cryptozoologist. “But why?”
Laine’s brow creased. “Why, what?”
“Why would it come here?”
Laine raised his hands. “Isn’t that your field of expertise?”
Aston laughed and shook his head. “I suppose so. This is such wild speculation on every front, but if there’s a channel that does go to the sea, and if there is a monster here, and if it does use the channel to travel back and forth, there needs to be a biological reason. Feeding? Breeding ground? Perhaps this is its original home. Is there possibly even a population here? We can’t know, but we need to establish these facts.”
Slater glanced back at Carly. “Are you getting all this?”
Carly nodded, the camera fixed on Aston.
“Holloway is going to have a cow when he hears this development,” Slater said. “His bubble will be impossible to burst.”
It was a couple of hours later when the burbling engine of the tin boat heralded the billionaire’s return. He was beside himself with the news, running from screen to screen, coming up with ever wilder speculations on what they may have found and how exciting that was. Aston could almost see the dollar signs spinning in Holloway’s eyes.
“Joaquin,” Holloway said, “To the galley with you! I think we really have cause to celebrate.” As the big man went below decks, Holloway turned to face the others. “I bought lobster, crab, oysters, all kinds of fruit and delicacies and even a few bottles of damn fine wine. I know I said this was to be a dry ship, and I stand by that, but for tonight we’ll make an exception.” He grinned at them, like an indulgent father awaiting the adulation of his brood.
“Sounds good,” Aston said. His hangover from the night before was still a fresh memory, but he was happy to trigger another one at this stage.
“Did you see Dave anywhere?” Carly asked, breaking the professional silence of the camera operator. She ignored the annoyed look that Slater flicked her way.
Holloway shook his head. “Another deserter. No matter, we’re more than equipped to manage as we are. Now, keep collecting all the data you can. I’m going to help Joaquin. Celebratory feast in one hour!”
Without waiting for a reply, he strode out. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Aston and the others returned to their work.
* * *
It was a fine feed, Aston had to admit. Holloway had spared no expense and managed to find quite a spread in shops of the remote community. They made sure there would be no wine left over and by around ten pm everyone was lounging in their chairs, full to bursting and pleasantly drunk. Aston tried a few times to catch Slater’s eye, but she was plainly ignoring him. He had hoped a little alcohol might grease the wheels of a reenactment of the previous night’s fun, but he was getting the message.
Holloway couldn’t stop talking about the possibilities before them. In his mind, the creature had been captured and carted back to civilization to be shown off for a fortune and they were all famous and richer than ever. Aston wanted to tell the crazy bastard the story of King Kong and the warning it offered against this kind of folly, but he knew it would fall on deaf ears. And honestly, who in the world didn’t already know that tale and its message? That was trouble with people like Holloway – they were convinced they were somehow better than all those who went before them. Convinced that whatever befell others was the result of some weakness on the part of those unfortunate fools and would be avoided with enough faith, enough enthusiasm, enough money. But the truth was that no matter how much wealth and belief someone had, a monster’s teeth would puncture a rich man’s heart as swiftly as it would a poor man’s.
Slater pulled herself up and headed for the door. “I’m off to bed. I’ll see you all in the morning.”
“Me too,” Carly said. She stood and threw a look at Aston.
“I remember,” he assured her.
The young woman hurried away and Slater followed.
“I guess that’s a good cue for me too,” Aston said. “Goodnight all.”
Makkonen, Laine and Joaquin offered him nods, Holloway raised a hand and waved. “Until tomorrow!”
Aston left the four men and hurried to catch up with Slater. He needn’t have rushed, as she stood alone on the deck staring out over the lake. Carly was nowhere to be seen, presumably already off to her bunk.
Slater glanced back over her shoulder and sighed. “Not happening,” she said tiredly. “I thought you were okay with the concept of a one night stand.”
Aston let the annoyance and disappointment slip by him. “I’m cool with that,” he said, though it was a slight lie. “Not why I came.”
“What is it then?”
“I’m worried that Holloway is getting a little carried away here.”
Slater turned away from the lake to face him. “And you’re also worried that maybe we really are on the trail of something dangerous, rather than a myth?”
“That too.”
Her face softened. “Yeah. I feel the same. But what do we do? I can’t help feeling Holloway is so locked into this thing that he’s going to do something stupid or reckless. How do we remove ourselves from that?”
“I don’t doubt it. He’ll do anything to succeed. And that’s the question. Are we still going to help him?” Aston was nervous she might suggest abandoning the entire venture. He certainly felt it would be the best option for safety, but he needed Holloway’s money. And the marine biologist in him simply had to know more about what was happening in this huge lake. There was the potential for great scientific discovery. And recognition, if he was honest. But at what cost?