KRONOS RISING: After 65 million years, the world's greatest predator is back.

by Max Hawthorne

  “The ship was originally manufactured in Russia,” she yelled back over her shoulder as she led the way through a noisy series of narrow metal hallways. They emerged inside the vessel’s sunlit helm area. “You can probably tell by the old signage. She was launched in 1965. At seventy meters in length, a twelve meter beam, and weighing over seven hundred tons, she was the pride of the Soviet Union’s whaling fleet for nearly two decades. God knows how many whales were slaughtered by this thing’s grenade-tipped harpoons, before they decommissioned her in favor of more lethal whale killers.”

  Amara stopped in the center of the ship’s antiquated steering room. “Next to our fancy control room, this is my favorite part of the ship.” Leaning back and placing her hand on the huge metal captain’s wheel, she grinned at him and gave it a playful quarter spin. “I love the view from here. When we’re under way, I can see for twenty miles on a clear day. I guess that came in handy back when they were hunting the poor right whales and humpbacks to the brink of extinction.”

  Jake nodded, moving to the huge windows lined up across the room. The bridge’s elevated position, so high above the decks, gave them an unparalleled view of the sparkling waters of the Atlantic.

  “What’s all this stuff?” Jake indicated a collection of weapons and antiques affixed to the bulkheads directly above the windows.

  “They came with the ship,” Amara said. “I keep that old harpoon up there for the same reasons we left the harpoon cannon on our bow – as a reminder of the horrors this ship once inflicted on innocent animals, and of our responsibility to protect them now. As for the other things, well, it seemed a shame to break up her old captain’s collection.”

  “May I?” Jake gestured toward the harpoon.

  “Sure, go ahead.”

  Jake reached up and carefully removed the aged weapon from its resting place. He brushed away some of the dust coating it and hefted it in his hands, examining its point.

  “It’s heavy,” he said, shifting the harpoon around and feeling its barbs. “Pretty unpleasant – even against a whale. I wouldn’t want to get stabbed with it.”

  Jake reached up and placed the menacing-looking lance back on the wall. He turned sideways, noticing a room that connected to the bridge. “What’s in here?” He walked through the open doorway.

  “That’s the original communications station,” Amara said, following him inside the dimly lit twenty-foot square space. “You can see the old radar and sonar equipment underneath all those dusty crates. We replaced it with new stuff as soon as we got the ship. It was outdated and useless anyway. This ship may be old, Jake, but our observation room downstairs is state-of-the-art.”

  “So, who exactly owns the Harbinger?” Jake asked, walking back onto the bridge.

  “Thirty percent of her is mine,” Amara declared proudly. Her head held high, she turned out one of the bridge’s side doors and gestured for Jake to follow her. “I’ve invested everything in her. The majority shareholders are the founding members of the Worldwide Cetacean Society.”

  “So, hypothetically speaking, if we’re going to use this ship to pursue our ‘pliosaur,’ we need their approval and authorization?”

  “Not necessarily,” Amara said over her shoulder. She shot him a smirk, then sidestepped down a narrow corridor, passing through a tight archway. Sunlight glimmered from a small porthole in the distance. As she reached the exit door leading to the ship’s bow she stopped suddenly. The door was locked. She exhaled irritably and tried to reverse direction. Her face contorted. Jake’s size, combined with the narrow corridor, prevented her from moving past him. Her expression turned contemplative and she took a step toward him, pointing upwards at a series of dials and levers directly behind him. “I’m sorry, I just need to . . .”

  “Uh, no problem . . .” Unable to back up and realizing she needed to activate something on the nearby bulkhead, Jake nodded and shoved his upper back tightly against the wall, compressing his abs inward as best he could in order to give her space.

  Amara smiled apologetically as she squirmed her way through. The space he was able to create was woefully inadequate, and she had no choice but to writhe against him as she strained to reach the door’s release mechanism.

  Jake gave an involuntary gasp as their bodies pressed together. They’d never been this close before. He could smell Amara’s sweat and feel the heat radiating off her. He grunted, swallowing hard, and turned his head sideways in a pointless attempt at being polite. He felt the unmistakable sensation of her breasts rubbing against him. His pulse began to quicken and he experienced a familiar stirring. He tried to distract himself, thinking hard about all the groceries he needed to buy, and the huge pile of laundry he had waiting back home.

  “There it is . . . got it.” Amara smiled happily as she caught hold of the metal lever. She pulled down smoothly on it, causing the portal’s internal locks to roll and click open.

  Jake nodded agreeably. The cetaceanist grinned shyly and then reversed direction, squirming past him once more. Her scent filled his nostrils and he felt perspiration trickle down his neck and back. He exhaled hard, as much to relieve tension as to discharge the breath he was holding.

  Oblivious to his discomfiture, Amara flung open the door. Sunlight and a strong breeze instantly filled the cramped corridor. With wispy white clouds framing her windswept hair, she stepped out onto the ship’s upper deck and turned to face Jake. She smiled at him, then took a step backwards and straddled a ladder that led down to the forward deck. Sliding smoothly down it, she landed with a thump, her face tightening into a small grimace. She straightened up and waited for Jake before leading him toward the Harbinger’s prow.

  “The I.C.S. pretty much lets me do what I want,” she continued breathlessly, stepping over the ship’s exposed anchor chains as she walked toward the bow. “I’ve always delivered for them in the past, and as a partner, well . . . let’s just say I have a pretty long leash.”

  Jake snickered. “So, your investors will have no problem with us going on a wild goose chase after a sea monster that may not even exist?”

  “Very funny.” She rolled her eyes, stopping next to the ship’s ominous-looking harpoon cannon. “This is the weapon they used to murder so many whales.” She hugged herself and shuddered. “It gives me the creeps every time I’m up here, but I thought you should see it. It’s totally non-functional. It was decommissioned before we got the ship.”

  Jake ran his hands over the gnarled surface of the antique metal monster. “That’s too bad. It might have come in handy against that creature of yours, assuming of course, we can find it.”

  Amara frowned. She turned around, heading back the way they came. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to come up with another way to deal with it. Not every confrontation has to end in death, you know. It’s just like that poor guy the creature scared to death, back at the docks. Sure, he was a real bastard, but that doesn’t mean he deserved to die.”

  “Maybe not, doc. But whatever is out there is eating people.”

  “Yeah . . .” Amara’s expression intensified. She looked troubled. “Jake, do you remember when you said you had plenty of experience dealing with domestic violence?”

  Jake’s head recoiled on his neck as he looked at her. “I remember. Why?”

  “Well, I was–”

  “Let me stop you before you go any further, doc. My father was a drunken Irishman who couldn’t stand his wife being more successful than he was. He used to beat the hell out of my mom and me whenever the mood struck him. Case closed.”

  Amara lowered her head. “I’m sorry.”

  “We were discussing your partners’ reaction to our mission.”

  She straightened up. “Yes, thank you. Once we see the footage I’m going to let them know that the Harbinger is setting sail to pursue an aggressive new species. One we have firm scientific evidence of, and wish to be the first to document.”

  “Works for me,” he said. “Speaking of which, shouldn’t we be
looking at that footage?”

  She gave Jake a contemplative look. “We should. But first, there’s something I want to show you.”

  “What kind of something?”

  “A . . . guest of ours we’ve been keeping onboard. I want to show him to you before we look at the video.”

  Jake’s head angled slightly. “He sounds mysterious. But why am I seeing this ‘guest’ first?”

  “Call it an insurance policy.” Amara’s lips curved up. “In case the video footage turns out to be a bust. If it does, what I’m about to show you should still convince you.”

  “Okay, doc. And when do we get to see your guest?”

  “We’re heading there now,” Amara said. She headed through an open door and down a short flight of steps that led into the ship’s darkened interior.

  A minute later, Jake realized she was leading him to the Harbinger’s freezer.

  When they emerged fifteen moments later inside the ship’s bustling observation room, Jake’s thought processes were racing so fast he hardly noticed the array of equipment.

  Amara led him to a hard-at-work individual, seated in the center of the room behind a trio of video monitors. “Jake Braddock, I would like the privilege of introducing the best videographer in the industry: my good friend, Adam Spencer.”

  “A pleasure, Adam,” Jake said, shaking hands. “Quite a setup you’ve got here.”

  “Thanks, Jake,” Adam replied with a forced smile, taking his hand back and shaking it to restore lost blood flow. “Say . . . you wouldn’t be the same Jake Braddock I saw on TV a few years back, the one who swept the fencing championships in LA?”

  “Guilty as charged.”

  “Why is it everybody in the world knows about that except me?” Amara commented.

  “Are you kidding? This guy’s a god!” Adam twisted in his seat. He turned back, a smile on his face, and a pencil in hand. “Say, can I get your autograph, and maybe a quick picture?”

  “Later, Adam,” Amara said. “Right now we’ve got work to do. I need you to pull up the files I radioed you about. I’m assuming you kept them under wraps like I asked?”

  “Boss lady, I haven’t even seen them. How’s that for keeping things battened down?”

  Amara smiled. “Nicely done. Okay guys, gather round and cross everything you’ve got two of. If the footage we’re about to see is what I think it is, we’re going to turn the entire scientific community on their collective ears.”

  “Amen to that,” Jake said under his breath. “Although, you may have enough evidence to do that already.”

  Adam turned to Amara. “What’s he mean?”

  “I showed him our shrink-wrapped guest.”

  Adam raised an eyebrow. “Ah . . . how dramatic. But, I thought we were keeping a lid on that?”

  Amara’s nostrils flared. “It was necessary. Anyway, hit it as soon as you’re ready.”

  Adam nodded and dimmed the overhead lights. He made a series of quick adjustments on his keyboard, whistling as he keyed up the sequence he wanted. Finally, he turned to the pair seated behind him, his finger suspended over a red button.

  “Okay, kids, hold on to your shorts,” he said as he pushed it. “The first thing we’re looking at is the original sequence from the starboard cameras.” He reached for a large round dial and sped up the video to the part he was looking for. “Like I said before, the interference caused by the Sycophant completely obscured the footage, so all you see is this dark, amorphous shape. Kind of looks like a giant manta ray from the front.”

  “Did you try to enhance it?” Amara leaned forward in her seat, squinting at the screen.

  “This is enhanced,” Adam said. He moved his mouse and pushed a few buttons. “Now, let’s check out the portside footage. There isn’t much – only a second or so, since the cameras were set for low resolution, alternate-frame motion-sensing only. Let’s see what we’ve got.”

  As he hit the enter button, Jake held his breath. The film clip was short indeed: a fraction of a second. It showed a dark-colored object barreling past the camera with so much velocity it was little more than a blur. Then, it was gone, leaving behind swirling bubbles.

  “Did you see that?” Amara leapt out of her seat. “That’s it! We’ve got it!”

  Jake held up his hands. “Whoa, hold on . . . I saw something,” he said skeptically. “What it was, I couldn’t say. It could have been a piece of wood. Let’s not overreact.”

  “Okay, you’re right.” Amara took a deep breath, visibly reining herself in. “Let’s allow my astute little friend to do his thing.”

  The cetaceanist winked at Adam and sat back, waiting while he scrolled the fleeting image back and forth. A tense few minutes passed, with the little videographer entering keyed codes and adjusting settings. Finally, he leaned back in his seat, exhaling heavily.

  “Alright guys. I’ve enhanced the images to maximum and utilized our graphics program to compensate for the missing frames.” He pushed another button. “Let’s run her at one-tenth speed and see what we can see.”

  Emerging frame by frame, the primordial colossus soared gracefully past the Harbinger’s central hull camera. The images were as plain as day. Its four flippers and enormous jaws, lined front to back with interlocking teeth, were clearly visible. Then it traveled beyond the range of the ship’s fixed position viewers and was gone.

  For a long moment, Jake and his comrades sat there, their glazed-over eyes fixated on the static that replaced the startling images.

  It was the sheriff of Paradise Cove that finally spoke up. “Unbelievable. Doc, I’m no paleontologist, but that sure looks like the creature you showed me.”

  “Yeah, it does,” Amara concurred. She licked her lips. “Based on the shape of its skull, I’m not sure it’s the exact same species. But if it isn’t, it’s damn close. And, it’s definitely what fed on our frozen fish.” She cleared her throat. “I don’t know about you guys, but I could use a stiff drink right about now.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Adam said. His voice was hoarse from the dryness in his throat. “You buying?”

  “I sure am.” Amara stood unsteadily. “I’ve got a bottle of twelve-year-old scotch sitting in my desk drawer I was saving for a special occasion. I think this qualifies.”

  She moved to her glass-covered desk, retrieving the bottle and a pair of tumblers, then made her way back to her seat.

  “I’ve only got two glasses,” she mentioned. “Anyone care to drink out of the bottle?”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Jake said. “I don’t drink anymore.”

  “That figures.” Amara grinned. “But, you never know. Before this thing is over, you might end up starting again.”

  His only reply was a partial nod. Lost in thought, he watched the two friends clink their glasses together in celebratory toasts.

  “Watcha thinking about, big Jake?” Amara said after a moment.

  “What? Oh, sorry, my mind was wandering.”

  “That’s alright,” Adam chortled as he emptied his glass. “You seem pretty down though, for someone who helped discover a living marine monster from the time of the dinosaurs!”

  Amara leaned over and spoke into Adam’s ear. “I forgot to tell you, Jake lost some close friends to our animal. And, there have been several other deaths attributed to it over the last few days.”

  “Oh Jesus, I’m sorry, man,” Adam stammered. “I had no idea.”

  “How could you?” Jake replied, suddenly serious. “I’m just trying to figure out the best way to go about it, that’s all.”

  “The best way to go about what?” Amara said through a scotch-inspired grin. “To spend all the money you’re going to make from being interviewed about our discovery?”

  “No, the best way to kill our discovery.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me.” His eyes as hard as agates, Jake reached for the radio at his belt. “Dispatch, this is Jake. Come in.”

  There was nothing but garbled s
tatic.

  He made two more ineffectual attempts. Glowering, he wiped his hands on his pants and rose to his feet. “I’m going up on deck to get a transmission through to my dispatcher. I’m scheduling a news conference in regard to our scaly friend.”

  Jake pointed his walkie-talkie at the video monitor.

  “A . . . news conference? Amara stared thunderstruck. “Don’t you think that’s a little sensationalistic at this point? You could start a panic.”

  “When that ‘animal,’ as you choose to call it, returns to Paradise Cove and starts ripping apart people and boats in broad daylight, then you’ll have a panic.” Jake cracked his knuckles one by one. “To prevent that, I have to shut down boating both in and out of the marina. People are going to want to know why. And I’m going to tell them.”

  Amara and Adam exchanged glances.

  “You know, Jake, it really is just an animal,” she said. “I’m truly sorry about your friends, but that doesn’t make the thing evil. It’s just doing what any other animal does to survive.”

  “It’s a confirmed man-eater, doc,” he responded evenly. “And it’s got to be stopped.”

  “Yes, it does.” Amara moved closer to him. “But that doesn’t mean we have to kill it. If you can give me a little time, I think we might be able to capture it.”

  “Capture it?” Jake nearly choked. “Are you kidding me? You saw the size of that thing. Capture it with what, an aircraft carrier?”

  Amara’s voice began to rise. “I don’t know yet. It’s something we have to work on.”

  “What would be the point?” Jake asked. “And even if you could confine it, what would you feed it? Your precious whales?”

  “Look, sheriff, we’re talking about a unique, possible one-of-a-kind life form. It may be the last of its kind. As a research specimen alone it could be invaluable.”

  Jake scoffed. He knew she was getting angry, but he didn’t care. “Whatever. I’m going up to make my call and then I’m heading back.” He pointed a finger at Adam. “I’m going to need a copy of that footage, ASAP. It’s evidence.”

  “Uh . . . no problem, big guy.”