Aquifer: A Novel

by Gary Barnes

  Clayton bent down and picked up a large nylon tote bag that had been used to transport some of the Search and Rescue team’s supplies. He slowly untied the bag’s draw strings and opened the bag wide, trying to not spook the small creature.

  At that moment the young creature unexpectedly lunged for Clayton’s hand. Clayton’s reflexes were quicker. He thrust his arms toward the creature with the mouth of the nylon tote bag open wide. He slipped the open end of the bag over the creature’s head, used his foot to knock the creature off its feet, scooped up the bag and pulled the draw strings tight, securing the creature inside.

  “That was some pretty fancy footwork,” admired Larry.

  “Yeah, well I just got lucky. Let’s get out of here before any of the really big ones return,” admonished Clayton as he handed the sack with the squirming creature to Larry.

  “How do you know they get bigger?” asked Tina.

  “I’ve seen their tracks,” he replied quite seriously.

  Cautiously, still eyeing the congregating crowd of young creatures, the trio donned their swim fins, masks, and snorkels. Then, just as they were about to lower themselves into the water, the gimp-footed alien surfaced in the lagoon just thirty feet from them and began to climb out onto the dry bank. Fortunately, its back was to the group and therefore the creature was unaware of their presence. The trio froze, partly from fear and partly in amazement at the size of the beast, which from nose to tail measured almost twenty feet in length.

  “Why do you have to always be right?” Tina whisperingly implored.

  “Just lucky I guess. Now get down on the floor, slowly, and lay very still. I hope their eyes are made to detect motion,” Clayton whispered back.

  The trio slowly and quietly dropped to the floor. In one quick but graceful move, Clayton grabbed a nearby two-foot loop of surgical tubing and looped it over his feet. He then grabbed a duffle bag that had been left behind by Search and Rescue and cradled it in the surgical tubing, pulling it up to his chest, and keeping his knees locked. Then he, too, lay very still.

  Both Larry and Clayton kept their eyes opened, partly out of fear but mostly out of curiosity. The massive creature lumbered toward them with a profound limp. Arriving at Tina, it sniffed her, then snorted, blowing her wet hair about. Sensing that Tina was an intruder, the alien took a more aggressive posture toward her, baring its teeth and letting out a low growl.

  Believing that she was about to become an alien’s hors d’oeuvre, Tina's hands began to tremble uncontrollably. Her entire body was racked with fear. The gimpy-footed alien’s attack appeared imminent so Clayton released his hold on the duffle bag. His makeshift slingshot sent the bag hurling across the cavernous room.

  The noise of the duffle bag’s release caught the alien’s attention and it followed the bag’s trajectory with its head. When the duffle bag crashed against the cave’s back wall, deep in the darkness, the alien limped off in investigative pursuit.

  When the creature was a safe distance away, Clayton whispered to his companions. “Get into the water, quietly! Before Gimp Foot comes back.”

  The men helped Tina to her feet and made sure that she was all right. Then Clayton grabbed the nylon tote bag containing the captured alien, which kicked and wiggled wildly. Slowly the trio lowered themselves over the lagoon’s bank into the water, dove and swam for the opening in the cave wall.

  *

  The trio surfaced in the middle of the spring and began swimming for the shore. As they approached the shore, several members of the Search and Rescue department gave them a hand out of the water. Clayton clutched the nylon tote bag containing the captured creature that was still kicking and wiggling wildly.

  As they were shedding their diving equipment, Larry commented to Tina, “I’ve never viewed an amphibian from that angle before. Now I know what a butterfly must feel like when it encounters a frog.”

  “Yeah, well I was the one playing the part of the butterfly,” she retorted.

  “That creature must have come from deep in the cave’s tunnel,” Clayton interrupted. “Fortunately he was more curious than hungry or we probably wouldn’t be standing here discussing it. Let’s get back to the lab and see what we can learn about our friends,” he added, gesturing to the specimen he held and to the ones in Larry’s fanny pack.

  *

  Sheriff Akers dispatched all the rescued victims to the hospital in Mountain View, about forty-five miles away. Then he got into his squad car and started the drive back to his office to fill out the necessary reports. As he drove, he reviewed in his mind the events of the afternoon and realized that they were in serious trouble. He needed help with their situation but didn’t know exactly where to start.

  Arriving at his office, the Sheriff parked in his designated parking spot and walked up the steps to the building’s entrance. He opened the Main Street entrance door and briskly walked past the dispatcher's desk. “Get me the State Office of Emergency Management and patch it through to my phone as soon as you can,” he barked as he slammed the door to his private office behind him.

  Jane Chilton had never seen the Sheriff act like that before. His demanding demeanor was so uncharacteristic that she knew something important was happening.

  *

  In the seclusion of his office, Sheriff Akers was soon deep into a phone conversation discussing the alien situation with the Office of Emergency Management. For the moment he did not want to discuss this with anyone, except for those who were on a strict, need-to-know basis. He did not know exactly what he was dealing with, and until he did, he didn’t want to take a chance on causing panic among his townspeople.

  “What do you mean you can't help!” Sheriff Akers thundered into the telephone. “. . . No, its not a chemical spill, earthquake, or terrorist attack. . . . Then who can I contact for assistance? . . . You don't understand. He can’t handle this. It’s out of the dog-catcher’s league!”

  *

  That evening at Opal’s Café, Clayton, Welton, Tina, and Larry sat at a table with a stack of empty plates before them.

  “I've never seen anything like those creatures,” remarked Tina, still not completely recovered from her ordeal.

  “That’s because they're not from around here,” Clayton calmly replied.

  “Meaning?” asked Tina.

  “I believe they’re from another planet. I’m convinced that the cave tunnel at Blue Spring connects with the meteorite crash site, which is really the crash site of an alien space craft that the military tried to disguise to look like a newly formed sinkhole. I believe that those creatures were on board the craft and survived the crash. You’re a biochemist. We could use your help tomorrow in analyzing this stuff,” he implored.

  Tina nodded her head in agreement.

  At that moment Opal approached the table, pulled up a chair next to Clayton, and looked him in the eye.

  “Tina told me what you did. Thank you for savin’ her life. I want to apologize for misjudgin’ you. Bein’ from the city and all, I didn't think you'd care about helping people in our little town.”

  “Your daughter is a very brave young lady. You can be proud of her.”

  “I am . . . thank you.”

  Clayton had never been one for sharing his feelings, or even acknowledging their existence – not even to himself. His life had always been a very analytical one. Long ago, logic and reason supplanted emotions. But the genuineness of Opal and her family had a disarming effect upon Clayton. Something within him was stirring; his insides were changing. Though he did not completely understand the transformation he was experiencing, he did recognize its source.

  “No, it’s I who thanks you,” Clayton said to Opal. “Spending time in your home has shown me a family life I've never known. Though I’m not a member of your family, I’m beginning to sense a feeling of belonging; or at least, a feeling that I wish I had belonged.”

  As Clayton and Opal stared into each others eyes, a bond of acceptance and respect immediately flowed betw
een them. And something else too. Something that neither of them could explain. Something that soothed old hurts and brought peace to their souls.

  =/=

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Lab

  Tina arrived at Clayton’s trailer lab at the Jack’s Fork River Campground early the next morning. She found that the three men had already started setting up the lab for the tests that they would be performing.

  Clayton addressed the group and gave them a brief review of what they hoped to accomplish. Each of the team members then set to work in their respective areas of expertise.

  Clayton began working with one of the egg samples. He placed it on a dissection tray and began cutting into it for examination. Beside him were two other dissection trays containing hatchlings in various stages of dissection.

  Larry peered through a microscope, comparing the various samples of the clear gelatinous slime they had collected. However, after two hours of comparative analysis and still not learning much, he moved to the next counter, where Tina had set up a mini-chem lab. He hoped to fare better with a chemical analysis.

  Tina was working on the sample of sticky mucus she collected from Ellie Jo’s face and compared it with the sample previously collected from the hunting site. She found that it was not water soluble and had a distinctly acrid odor. On the mobile chem lab counter top she had set up an array of test tubes and beakers into which she placed small samples of the substance and then combined various chemical reagents with it in an effort to break it down and identify it.

  The larger alien that had been captured in the nylon tote bag had been placed into a large plastic dog kennel. Welton studied its aggressive nature. Though his background was not in the biological sciences, his keen sense of observation had gleaned much valuable information about the creature.

  *

  After a long and exhaustive, non-stop workday, the team finally stepped outside the trailer to take a much needed break. Dusk was just settling upon the valley. Larry had built a campfire in the fire pit and its blue smoke curled up through the surrounding trees. They were seated around the camp’s heavy wooden picnic table protected from the mosquitoes by the screen tent surrounding them.

  Four Coleman lanterns, strategically hung from poles placed around the outside of the tent, illuminated the area. A fifth lantern hung inside the screen tent to give light where the colleagues sat.

  As they ate large slices of watermelon they openly discussed their research findings, offered conjectures as interpretations, extrapolated upon their data, and expressed their feelings regarding the alien creatures. Clayton, as usual, had taken charge.

  “We’ve all been casually discussing our discoveries about these creatures as we’ve been working on them – but as a group, I’d like to formally review what we have learned about the aliens so far. For example; I’ve concentrated mainly on the gelatinous eggs. At first I couldn’t understand why they adhered so strongly to the host upon which they were laid,” said Clayton as he reached to the middle of the table and picked up an example of an egg that had been secured to a dissection tray. “But, as you can see from this example, there is no yolk sack. It appears that the victims are paralyzed but not killed. The eggs then absorb their nutrients directly from the host victim, eating them alive, or . . . in actuality, dissolving them alive and absorbing them. And there is apparently no tadpole stage outside the egg. They experience direct development, hatching as small, yet fully developed adolescents within about seventy-two hours. Dr. Welton, what can you share with us?”

  “Well, in my opinion these creatures are definitely not native to earth. They are truly amphibious. The adult stage has both lungs and gills. They have retractable claws on webbed feet, something totally unheard of on our planet. And on a frightening, yet unusually interesting note, they have ovotestis.”

  “They have what?” exclaimed Larry.

  “Ovotestis,” Welton explained. “That’s a hermaphroditic reproductive organ containing both an ovary and a testis. It allows them to reproduce either bisexually or asexually. On our planet the only creatures that have them are gastropods, you know, snails and slugs and such things. But these aliens have evolved them to a much more advanced condition.”

  Larry spit out a couple of watermelon seeds and asked incredulously, “Wait! So just one of these creatures could conceivably multiply and reproduce thousands of its species?”

  “That is correct,” replied Welton. “And I’d lay odds that if we conducted a DNA test we would find that they all in fact did come from just one original progenitor.”

  “I’ll agree with that conclusion,” Clayton announced. “And I’ll bet that ole Gimp Foot is the grand patriarch. He’s missing half of his right front foot, just like the tracks we saw in the clay at the crash site. Tina, what have you learned about them?”

  “I analyzed the sticky substance on the victim’s faces and discovered that it is a fairly sophisticated protein compound that contains a paralyzing neurol-toxin which attacks the victim’s central nervous system in two ways. You know how some drowning victims can survive even after being submerged underwater for up to a half hour or so?”

  “Yes,” Clayton responded. “That’s because really cold water shuts down the central nervous system and conserves oxygen consumption.”

  “Exactly,” Tina replied. “Apparently this substance does the same thing chemically that cold water does thermally. That’s why the victims did not drown when the creatures dragged them to the nesting chamber as food for their developing tadpoles. Secondly, the victims catatonic state is caused by another element of the compound that is chemically quite similar to the poison produced by some species of Amazon frogs, only it’s much more potent. It shuts down the voluntary muscular system. Essentially, the victims are fully conscious, they just can’t respond, so they appear to be comatose while in actuality they are fully awake.”

  “What a horrible thing to experience!” interjected Larry shaking his head. “I can’t imagine going through anything like that.”

  “Yeah,” Tina agreed. “I can’t erase the image of Ellie Jo from my mind. The horror of the ordeal she must have gone through is beyond my comprehension. Dr. Clayton, have you heard how she’s doing?”

  “I checked with the Sheriff a couple of hours ago. He said that she and the others are stable. However, there’s been no significant improvement in their condition. The doctors don’t give them much of a chance, I’m afraid. It’s really up to us. If there’s to be any hope in helping them we’ve got to learn more about these aliens – Tina, do you think that perhaps you could isolate this neurol-toxin and develop an antidote for it?”

  “Well, for a mobile laboratory you have some pretty good equipment. But time is crucial, so to speed up the process I need to use some of the techniques of metathesis, and that requires a much better equipped facility. So if you don’t mind, I’d like to take the samples over to the high school and use their chem lab.”

  “Metathesis?” inquired Larry.

  “Yes,” Clayton responded. “It’s a relatively new branch of organic chemistry – part of the environmentally friendly green chemistry revolution. It’s much more efficient, using considerably less energy and generating substantially fewer environmentally damaging by-products and hazardous wastes.”

  “I read something about that,” Welton chimed in. “Don’t they use specialized metallic compounds as catalysts to force molecules to swap atoms, resulting in new substances?”

  “You guys amaze me,” said Tina in awe. “I don’t know how you find the time to stay current in your own fields, let alone stay on top of the cutting-edge developments in a totally unrelated one.”

  “Anything to help the environment,” Clayton explained. “After all, chemistry is the most environmentally destructive of the sciences. Responsible chemistry is green chemistry, and green chemistry is just part of doing good chemistry.”

  “I agree,” replied Tina. “Anyway, I think the high school has what I need to br
eak down the neural-toxin and develop an antidote.”

  Larry spit out another watermelon seed and asked in surprise, “You can really do that?”

  “Of course. It’s quite time-consuming, but it should be a fairly simple job to do. All venomous creatures have to have the antidote to their own poison. Otherwise, when they eat prey they’ve bitten and injected with their venom, they would die too.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that,” Larry admitted.

  “By all means, Tina,” Clayton encouraged her, “go ahead, see what you can develop. Just keep me appraised of any crucial findings. Ummm . . . Larry, what can you tell us about the slime that you were examining?”

  “Oh, before Larry gives his report,” Tina interrupted, “there are two more things that could prove important. This neural-toxin penetrates the skin virtually upon contact - so its effects are almost instantaneous. We’ll need to warn everyone to avoid coming onto contact with it. The final thing I discovered while working on the larger creature that you captured. They produce a very powerful sexual pheromone. I think that if it became necessary, we could synthesize it and use it to congregate the creatures for further studies.”

  “That could prove to be a very significant breakthrough . . . uh, Larry?”

  “Well, the mucous slime we retrieved from the crash site matches the substances found at the hunter’s site and also at Blue Spring. It’s all identical. Chemically it’s very similar to the thin mucous coating that covers the bodies of many earthly amphibians. It functions primarily to prevent dehydration. An interesting anomaly about this stuff though, is that it has the ability to store photic energy - hence the blueish glow.”

  “Have you been able to determine the purpose for, or the causation of the bluish coloration; or why the creature needs photic energy?” Clayton inquired.

  “Not yet. But I did verify an unusually high presence of cobalt in its molecular structure. That may have something to do with it,” Larry responded.

  “Good. Keep working on that.”