Amoeba (The Experiments)

by Jacqueline Druga

  Colin carried a thick abundance of charts, and papers stuck out the sides of the folders. He smiled a nervous smile as he approached the investors. “Quite . . . quite the introduction. Nice to meet you, gentlemen.” A twinge of an English accent graced his voice, but just a twinge.

  After tapping his bottom lip and peering at the investors through the tops of his eyes, Greg pointed to Colin. “Dr. Whitney has been working for Her Majesty’s Army for three years now. We were lucky to steal him away.”

  Colin set down everything he held in his arms on the table. “This is what Dr. Haynes gave me when I arrived this morning. As you can see, it’s a lot, and I’ve not had the time yet to go through every single sheet, but I will. Hopefully by this day’s end, I will know more about our amoeba situation. I’ve viewed some video documentation that Dr. Haynes has shown me, and I must tell you, if I were to rate the situation, I would have to put it a serious to grave level.” He heard the moans from the investors. “That’s not to say rectification cannot be achieved. Never give up hope. As far as the Honolulu incidents, right now I am awaiting word from the county coroner as to whether or not he has found protoplasm in the remains of those victims.” With his middle finger he pushed up his glasses. “My first move, though, is one that I feel should have been done earlier. But after being told the circumstances of your experiment, I understood why it was not. It’s not a scientific move, and as I’ve said, I’ve not yet read all of the material. The Amoebas have gathered in one area of the island, the ones that have surfaced, that is. And like glue they are sticking there. Where? The hut region. And that is because we have five people grouped in one small area.”

  Aldo let out a loud , ‘a-ha!” holding his fist high. “And I’m no goddamn scientist. I told you that, Haynes. They smell them.”

  Greg just raised his eyebrows.

  Colin continued. “This gentleman is semi correct. Not that the amoebas smell them, but they can sense them. We want to throw them off a bit. Right now as we speak, the two remaining controllers are fetching those participants and helping them move to the main building.” Colin felt as if he were in a room full of first graders, watching all of the investors quickly turn their chairs to check out the monitor screens, watching Cal, Jake, and the others packing things up. “Our controllers have brought them suits to protect them through the walk to the main building. It is our hope. It is our hope . . . gentlemen, could you please return to your seats.” He waited until they did. “Thank you. It is our hope to divert the scent, therefore causing the amoebas to not gather so strongly in one area, thereby hopefully making a future rescue attempt possible. Tomorrow we will begin a testing of height and distance, trying to determine how far up and out our amoebas can jump. Fingers are crossed that this is successful, because we’ll need this data for rescuing plans. And finally, the second reason we are moving the participants. Whether or not the Honolulu deaths prove to be our amoebas, we have to now consider their destruction. Letting them die out is not an option. They’ll multiply with everything they consume on that island, trees, vegetation, wildlife. They do not consume the bills of amphibians. Though unlikely, we must consider it a possibility that one may attach itself to a bird and fly off to a neighboring island or boat. Our first line of defense is our participants on that island. They are there, and we would not be doing ourselves any favors should we render them mentally incapacitated by locking them in a room and, well, driving them nuts.”

  Ivan raised his hand. “You mentioned earlier something about the amoebas that have surfaced. Do you think they’re hiding?”

  “Hiding?” Colin shook his head. “No. Nesting. Like the cockroach, they are somewhere we cannot see.”

  Watson was the next person to raise his hand. “But don’t they need to eat to multiply?”

  “They’re asexual, meaning they need no mates to multiply, nor do they need consume to multiply. My guess is that these mutations are the result of ingesting your Stasis, as Dr. Haynes told me. Just like the Stasis regenerates, the amoebas do also. Only like the earth worm, they can divide and become two. And what has made matters worse, if my theory is correct, the mutated amoebas mutated more when they consumed the Stasis animals.”

  Aldo took his turn in questioning. “So in order to destroy them all, you have to not only kill the ones we see, but the ones we don’t’. Draw them out, correct?”

  “Correct.”

  “You’ll have to get the nest too, right?” Aldo asked.

  “Correct.”

  “How?” Another Aldo question came at Colin.

  “We’re currently working on ideas.”

  Aldo let out a long breath. “One more question.” He gave a cold stare to Douglass who huffed in wanting to ask his question. “Shut up,” Aldo snapped at him then pleasantly looked back to Colin. “So let me get this right. The game plan right now is not only to get our people off the island, but to use our people first to help you beat the amoebas.”

  “Correct.” Colin nodded.

  Aldo’s hand quickly covered Douglass mouth. “So what happens if we do this and succeed, but find out that the amoebas indeed have broken the perimeter and are loose somewhere else?”

  Colin took a dramatic pause before responding to Aldo, looking over his shoulder to the wall of monitors. “If that happens, and our amoebas show up in civilization, then take a good look at those screens, gentleman, because you could very well be looking at the next inhabitants of our planet earth.”

  I-S.E. Thirteen - The Island

  August 2nd - 2:45 p.m.

  “I have an announcement,” Cal shouted out while walking into the recreation room, the home for all of them now. “There is a ladies room next door. I better not find a single one of you in there.” She nodded and walked over to Jake who had set their stuff up in the farthest corner. “Home?”

  “I guess for the next month it is.” Jake stood up straight. “It’s better than being in that bungalow with everyone.” He looked around the large room. Like a military barracks, everyone had taken a space, but there still was plenty. The furnishings and games were moved to their own corner where Rickie was already taking advantage of that.

  “We’re still gonna have to sneak off somewhere to be . . . intimate,” Cal said.

  “At least we can now.” Jake kissed her. “Now, I have a favor.”

  “What’s that?”

  “As much as this pains me to ask you, while I’m working with Stan on those amoebas we got, I want you to distract Billy.”

  Cal looked curiously at him. “You don’t want him to know you’re working on amoebas?”

  “Cal.” Jake closed his eyes. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that. No. I want you to get him away from that laptop.”

  “Why?” Cal looked at Billy who was setting up. “He’s working on his novel. Jake, this is gonna be his big break.”

  “Oh yeah, it’s gonna be his big break all right. Get him off that lap top and doing something else. Got that?’

  “I’m not understanding.”

  “All right. Let me explain. In the bungalow, it was fine. I thought . . . . well, I thought it was his way to shut us out. But he’s getting right back into it in this large room. Rickie and Lou are occupying themselves.”

  “So is Billy.”

  “Cal.” Jake laid his hands on her shoulder. “The first sign of mental strain is obsessive behavior. I’ve witnessed it in the field. Some men would clean their weapons obsessively to the point if you disturbed them they’d freak. Billy is getting so obsessive about escaping into his writing world, I’m afraid to read what he’s written for fear of seeing nothing but, ‘all work and no play makes Billy a dull boy’.”

  Cal laughed.

  “Cal, it’s not funny. We’re stuck in here. That’s your friend. I’ll be occupied, you occupy yourself with him. Got that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Every day, break his monotony.”

  “Got it.”

  “I’ll be one floor above
you.” Jake kissed her on the cheek. “Go now.” He pointed to Billy, then backed up. “And no erections.”

  With a sneaky ornery grin, Cal slowly raised a thumbs up to Jake. Jake shook his head with a chuckle and walked out.

  Caldwell Research Center - Los Angeles, CA

  August 2nd - 8:40 p.m.

  Every one of the investors called them the ‘poor persons party ware’, except for Aldo, he called those short, clear plastic drink cups economically brilliant because they save on money you would have otherwise had to dish out for someone to wash glasses.

  All of them sipped from them, drinking fine bourbon in Aldo’s room, cramped in there like the participants were in the bungalows. They had gathered secretly, holding a meeting of their own. Not that they had to hide, but it made it more exciting.

  “All right, what’s left?” Aldo asked, taking a sip as he lay on his side on the bed.

  “Switzerland and the island off St. Thomas.” Daniela looked at the papers.

  “I still say the house in Switzerland,” Aldo stated.

  Watson shook his head. “It’s secluded in the mountains, yes, but it’s still a lot closer to civilization than that island.”

  “But it’s cold.” Aldo held up his finger. “What did Whitney say? The lower the temperature, the slower they get. They can be frozen. I say Switzerland.” He waited, but no one agreed. “Gentlemen, we have to be all for one on this or nothing. We can’t go our separate ways. We have to work together. Look where our participants are now? An island. And what’s happening there. Huh?” He watched them all nod. “So will it be Switzerland?”

  Mumbling their responses, everyone agreed.

  “Good.” Aldo sat up. “Lancing, since that is your home, you hire a staff to make preparations there. We’ll all have to do our parts to stock that place, and we’ll all have our pilots on standby to move our families out on a moment’s notice.”

  “Shouldn’t we do this now?” Daniela asked.

  “No.” Aldo shook his head. “Let’s wait and see what happens. We need time to get things ready there anyhow. When we move our families, we don’t want them to panic, and we don’t want to do it if things start to go crazy. We have front row seats here, so we’ll be able to judge.”

  Lancing sat on the edge of the bed. “Shouldn’t we be going with them?”

  “You can go if you want,” Aldo said. “I’m not. I don’t want to be sitting cozy wondering what the hell is going on, hearing the media sugar coat it. No, I want to know exactly what is happening every second. And the only way to do that is to stay here until we no longer can.”

  “Then I’m staying, too,” Douglass stated. “As long as I know my family is safe.”

  “Me, too,” Ivan stated. “I’ll stay with you and wweat it out. Hey, this is our third experiment, right?”

  Aldo looked up to Daniela. “You?”

  Daniela tossed his hands up. “What the hell. Since I think your daughter is cute and want to be in your good graces should this world end, I’m in.”

  After grunting at him, Aldo looked at the others. “You guys?”

  It took a moment, but Lancing, Watson, Caruso, and George agreed.

  I-S.E. Thirteen - The Island

  August 2nd - 9:30 p.m.

  Music played, echoing in the hollow large room, some cross-over country song filling the air along with Rickie cheers.

  “Yes!” Rickie jumped up. “Tic tac toe, three in a row.”

  Lou shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

  “Clear the board, guy.”

  Lou set down his homemade beanbags, which were socks stuffed with rice, and walked over to the Coke machine. He grabbed the cans from the floor, opened the door to the vending machine, and loaded them in. All the lights on the soda choice buttons lit back up. He shut the door and walked back over to Rickie. “Five games straight. That was amazing.”

  “Dude, I rule.”

  “But every one you toss you hit.”

  “What can I say, guy. The power of the beast.” Rickie growled. “You go first.”

  “Thanks.” Stepping up to the line of tape on the floor, Lou gripped his bean bag and tossed it with all his might. It slammed into a button, and with a click, a can of soda rolled to the tray.

  “Good hit. Diet Coke, too. Center button, guy.” Rickie took his place on the line, going through his mind the strategy needed to stop Lou from getting three buttons in a row. Focusing, Rickie tossed his bag aiming for the Mountain Dew.

  “Check,” Jake stated sitting at the table across from Stan.

  “You suck,” Stan griped.

  “How the hell can I suck when I’m beating your ass?”

  Stan fiddled with a chess piece, and he raised his eyes to look at Cal and Billy. They danced in a corner by the juke box. To a faster slow song they swayed to the beat of the music, laughing. He watched Billy twirl Cal in a country-style dance, pulling her into him, then stepping away and swaying again. “Doesn’t that bother you?”

  Jake looked over his shoulder at them. “No.”

  “It would bother me if Cal was my wife.”

  “Take your turn.”

  “Jake, they slept to . . .”

  “Stan!” Jake yelled. “Take your turn. It doesn’t bother me. What the hell are they gonna do, start making out? I’m right here. Besides, Cal loves to dance. I don’t dance, so that is something I will humbly concede to Billy.”

  “They say dancing is a very intimate form of . . .”

  “Stan.”

  “What?’

  “Take your fuckin turn.”

  Cal giggled. “I can’t help it. You know what Jake said. Cold is best.”

  “But your fingers are like ice. Here.” Billy cupped his entire hand over hers. “You’ll need gloves soon.”

  “That’ll help my hands. What about my poor nose.”

  Billy brought his hand from her back to the tip of Cal’s nose. “I’m gonna start calling you Rover.”

  “Thanks for dancing with me.”

  “Thanks for today,” Billy told her. “I needed it.”

  “I did too. I worry about you Billy.”

  “Cal, you don’t have to.” Billy spoke softly. “I’ll be fine.”

  “I know. But I’m just going to ensure you are.”

  Billy pulled Cal a little closer in their dance. “And I’ll be happy to let you . . .” Billy grinned wide.

  Cal chuckled, stepping back some. “Did you feel that?”

  “Oh my God. Yeah.” Billy’s hand released her and moved to her stomach. “I thought it was my imagination.”

  “No. That was a big kick.” Cal released a hiccup-sounding giggle when the babies kicked again. “Oh shit.”

  “This is really . . .” Billy felt a hand touch his chest and move him back. He looked up. “Jake?”

  Jake separated them some, shifted his eyes down, pulled his routine erection check, and smiled. “Continue.” He turned and walked away.

  At first they both stared expressionlessly at Jake as he returned to his chess game. Then Cal and Billy laughed again, and as Jake ordered, continued in their dancing.

  Caldwell Research Center - Los Angeles, CA

  August 2nd - 10:10 p.m.

  Aldo knew Greg and Colin looked like they were busy sitting at the far end of the monitor’s observing table, papers spread before them. But Aldo was a bit bored, and being nosey was always something he enjoyed. So, after looking up to the monitors - the ones that used to show the bungalows but now showing the control center Aldo approached the pair. “Looks like they’re relaxing.”

  Colin looked up to see everyone in the recreation room. “Cold but relaxing.”

  “Doesn’t do much for your mental endurance, huh Haynes?” Aldo gave an annoying swat to Greg’s back.

  “Not much.” Greg kept looking at his work. “But to accomplish what we need to do, getting them relaxed and getting their minds cleared is what we need. Especially now.”

  “Why’s that?” Aldo ask
ed.

  “Take a look at the infrared aerial.” Greg pointed to the screen. “those dark purple spots are amoeba patches. Yesterday there were only four.”

  Aldo looked up. The little island looked like a piece of land with the measles. The four spots had multiplied to twenty.

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-TWO

  Caldwell Research Center - Los Angeles, CA

  August 8th - 8:33 a.m.

  “Play it again,” Colin politely requested of Lyle. “Slow. Slow. Good speed.” He wrote something down on a clipboard as he watched on the screen a huge cloud of amoebas form up and completely cover a goat that was lowered down as bait. “Excellent.”

  “Can I ask a question.” Aldo tapped him on the shoulder. “What’s the safe height and distance?”

  “No matter how many form together, they cannot go any higher than two hundred feet out or up.”

  “Okay. So how do we get these people two hundred feet in the air?”

  Greg interjected. “Actually, Aldo, we’re working with your sea rescue idea. We have a safe altitude to drop poison down into the ocean to rid it of those sharks. It’ll take time, but hopefully the water will be safe enough to get those people in the ocean, bring them out two hundred or so feet, and pick them up.”

  “Then you’ll destroy the amoebas?” Aldo asked.

  “Yes.” Greg nodded.

  “How?”

  Colin smiled at him. “We’re working on it.”