by Steve Alten
Jonas put the binoculars to his face. There were no lights in the canal, making it impossible to see the Meg underwater. He turned to his left, watching Manny and another assistant struggle to hook an immense side of beef onto the chain of the A-frame.
Moments later, the outdoor lights were dimmed and the deep baritone recording of timpani drums began, ushering the visitors to their seats.
Mac took a seat next to Jonas. “I spoke to my guy. I’ll have the transmitter by tomorrow morning. Here comes your fish.”
An enormous phosphorescent mass glided into the lagoon.
* * *
The three teens listened for the crowd’s crescendo before prying open the fire door. They jogged past souvenir stands and had already entered the outdoor arena before the first guard noticed the alarm bells ringing.
In the southern end of the lagoon, rising waves slapped against the Plexiglas barriers.
Jake pointed to the concrete structure supporting the A-frame. “See that door? It leads to an underwater observation room down below.”
“How do you know?”
“Saw it on TV. Doug, give me the crowbar.”
Jake led David and his cousin to the steel door. They stood behind him. shielding his movements from the crowd while he pried open the lock.
* * *
Jonas focused his binoculars on the pallid beast as it viciously tore the remains of its meal from the chain. As he pulled back to locate Manny, something caught his eye.
He trained the glasses on the observation-room door.
“What is it?” Mac asked.
“I don’t know. Probably nothing. I thought I saw the door leading down into the observation area swing open.” Jonas handed him the binoculars.
“Hard to tell from this angle. Want to take a look?”
“Yeah, maybe we’d better.”
* * *
The teens ran down the stairs and into the corridor.
“Whoa, Jake, check this out.”
The three boys stood before the underwater bay windows, staring into the depths of the lagoon.
David pressed his face against the glass. “Where’s the fucking shark?”
“Gone, ass-wipe. The show’s over.”
“Bullshit,” Jake said. “This show’s about to begin.” He banged against the LEXAN glass, the others following suit. “Here Angel—here girl!”
* * *
Jonas followed Mac down the concrete steps of the upper deck. He looked up to see the Megalodon glide slowly back toward the canal. As they made their way to the southern end of the outdoor arena, the creature suddenly turned.
* * *
“Here she comes!” Doug yelled.
“Hey, Caine, watch this.” Jake pulled his baggy JNCO shorts and boxers down and pressed his bare buttocks against the window.
David and Doug fell down laughing as the Meg accelerated toward the viewing window. Jake ducked beneath the window frame, laughing as he rolled on the damp concrete floor.
The creature slowed, then banked sharply, slapping its great caudal fin hard against the reinforced glass. The LEXAN rattled within its frame.
“Hey, Jake, check out this sign. No movement while the Megalodon is in the area.”
Jake stood, pressing his face against the glass. The creature was circling, its back arched. “I think she wants to play.”
Jake and Doug banged on the glass while David took out a can of black spray paint, laughing hysterically.
* * *
Mac led Jonas through a crowd congregating around the southern end of the lagoon. Instead of leaving, people seemed to be moving toward the tank, jostling to get a better view.
“Jonas, what’s going on?”
“I don’t know. Something’s drawn Angel back into the main tank. Oh, shit, look at the door. Somebody broke in, all right. You better get security down here.”
* * *
David stood back and admired his handiwork. “Here she comes—”
All three boys stood by the window, wide-eyed, adrenaline pumping. The Megalodon accelerated toward them like a Boeing 747.
“Now!”
The juveniles dropped to the floor.
Losing its prey once more, the creature slowed, swiping the glass barrier with its snout and upper row of teeth and gums.
“Oh, man—what a rush!” Jake said.
David stood—then stopped laughing.
Just above the freshly painted words, “BITE ME,” a blazing slate-colored eye was staring at him.
The Meg turned, moving off into the lagoon.
Jake and Doug stood, ready to play again.
“No,wait,” David said, “maybe we ought to go.”
“You go. I’ve gotta do this at least one more time. You in, Doug?”
“Hell, yeah. Come on, man. Don’t be a pussy.” They started banging.
David watched the creature approach. He felt his hands trembling. What had started out as fun and games was becoming dangerous. Still, he didn’t want to chicken out. “This is it, the last time, okay?”
“Fine,” Jake said. “Let’s wait until the last second—wait until you see her ugly-ass eyes.”
The three boys readied themselves, hearts pounding, staring into the charging face of the sixty-two-thousand-pound monster.
“Now!” The boys ducked below the window, laughing.
The Megalodon struck the LEXAN window like a locomotive plowing through kindling. Shards of glass and bone-chilling water exploded into the corridor as the creature’s snout and upper jaw slammed into the back wall, knocking out a dozen teeth.
David and his cousin registered the white torpedo a split second before its crushing girth drove them backward against the concrete wall.
An icy torrent lifted Jake off his feet. He squeezed his eyes shut and curled up as his body was tossed within the corridor.
* * *
Jonas ran down the steps as a deafening crash rocked the stairwell. Racing down the corridor, he was greeted by an incoming wall of frothing water. He turned and ducked, the eight-foot wave pummeling him against the concrete floor, sliding him back toward the stairwell. Before he realized what was happening, the flow ceased. He opened his eyes, lying on his stomach in a pool of water, gasping to regain his breath.
Yellow lights flashed through the corridor.
Jonas stood, dripping wet. The emergency doors had activated, sealing off the viewing area from the rest of the corridor. He sloshed over to the steel door, looking through its eighteen-inch porthole.
Angel, what have you done?
What he saw made him nauseous.
* * *
Jake’s lungs were on fire, his limbs like lead weights. He felt his body floating up from the floor and opened his eyes.
The image jolted him awake as if he’d been struck by lightning. He opened his mouth to scream, gagging on seawater as the cavernous maw surrounded him. Thrashing about, he paddled and kicked furiously, slipping out of the monster’s closing jaws, trying to surface.
Jake’s head struck the ceiling. The realization of his predicament sent a surge of panic through his limbs. Through blurred vision he searched the flooded corridor, only to find himself pinned against the back wall.
The Megalodon pushed forward, homing in on the vibrations.
Jake felt his body being sucked backward in a vacuum of water. With nowhere to maneuver, he ducked instinctively as the nine-foot maw jutted forward and clamped shut over his head.
In pitch darkness he gasped a putrid breath as the water momentarily drained away from his face. He gagged, then registered his own muffled screams within the creature’s mouth as unseen scalpels sliced and pulverized his body into mincemeat.
* * *
Through foamy swirls of pink Jonas saw the creature shake its imposing head, retracting its body from the underwater viewing room.
“Goddamn it!” Jonas ran up the stairs, emerging outside in time to see Angel surface, the remains of a lower body held aloft in her jaws.
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Screams rent the night. News crews jostled for camera angles, nearly pushing one another into the tank. Rising to the surface, Angel shook her head to and fro like a mad dog, tearing apart the carcass as her twisting upper torso sent great swells in every direction.
The beast disappeared, submerging somewhere beneath the floating pool of blood and mangled limbs. Then the hyperextended jaws rose majestically from the tank and, in one horrific bite, engulfed the remains from below.
Change of Plans
Western Pacific
Positioned parallel to each other on two enormous hydraulic ramps at the Goliath’s stern were the sister submersibles, Prometheus and Epimetheus. The identical cigar-shaped vessels, both painted white with red trim, were sixty-eight feet long, with sixteen-foot beams and five-foot-high conning towers. In contrast to the somewhat barren dorsal surface, the sub’s bellies contained an array of high-tech gadgets, the centerpiece being a spherical observation pod. From within this eight-foot structure, a single operator could manipulate a pair of robotic arms, cameras, lights, and a vacuum hose for gathering samples along the bottom.
Terry and Masao watched from the stern as the hydraulic ramp supporting the Epimetheus rolled into position beneath a massive winch along the Goliath’s transom.
Benedict Singer joined them.
“The late arrival of our subs forces a change of plans,” Benedict said. “The air purifiers and scrubbers on board the Benthos must be replaced before carbon dioxide levels become too high. The Epimetheus will descend immediately with supplies and a partial replacement crew, returning topside in two days with our A team. The rest of B team, along with myself, will descend aboard her sister ship, the Prometheus, following their return. We’re scheduled to begin a week-long mission in the abyss to deploy no fewer than three of your UNIS robots.”
“I shall inform JAMSTEC,” Masao said, admiring the Epimetheus as she rolled by. “Tell me, the inscription beneath the sub’s names—”
“Resurgam. I shall rise again.”
“And the vessels’ names?” Terry asked.
Benedict smiled, relishing the opportunity to pontificate. “According to Greek mythology, the Titan god Epimetheus was charged with distributing gifts to all of the animals in the world, gifts necessary for survival. Unfortunately, Epimetheus ran out of gifts by the time it was humanity’s turn. And so his brother, Prometheus, stole the Sun’s energy and gave it to man. Zeus was so angered that he had Prometheus chained to a mountain, where vultures tore away at his liver for a thousand years. Prometheus means forethought; Epimetheus—afterthought.”
“Will the Epimetheus be returning with the information JAMSTEC requires?”
“Those are my orders, Masao, but I expect you’ll be disappointed. I doubt the Benthos records will reveal any more than the Goliath’s.”
“Benedict Singer, please contact the control room at once.” Celeste’s metallic announcement echoed across the deck.
“Excuse me.” Benedict removed his walkie-talkie, moving away from them as he spoke.
Masao watched the man’s face closely. “Something is wrong.”
Terry leaned over the rail, watching a team of divers ride the Epimetheus into the sea. “Dad, how much do you trust Singer?”
“You are suspicious?”
“I think he’s hiding something. Why would a billionaire energy mogul be so interested in bailing out the Tanaka Institute, let alone take on the UNIS contract?”
“I asked Benedict the same question when we first met. He claimed to have found himself drawn to the Megalodon’s sheer power and grace. He says he became challenged with the idea of building a fleet of vessels capable of exploring the creature’s trench.”
“And you believed him?”
“GTI has invested more than a billion dollars for sea exploration—”
Benedict returned, looking grim. “We have a situation. There’s been a terrible accident at the Tanaka lagoon. The creature attacked and killed three teenage boys who had broken into the viewing corridor.”
Terry saw her father go pale.
“Chaos abounds, Masao, and the media are circling. As president of the Institute, I suggest you return with Celeste to Monterey at once. Terry can remain on board to obtain the information for JAMSTEC.”
Masao’s knees buckled.
“Dad—” Terry grabbed his arm, feeling him shaking in convulsions.
Benedict reached for him as he collapsed on deck.
* * *
Four hours later, Celeste joined Benedict on the uppermost deck of the Goliath beneath a sea of stars.
“Doctor says the old man should be okay. We’ll leave for Monterey at first light.”
“Such a beautiful night.” Benedict stared up at the twinkling sky.
“Funny how things work out sometimes, isn’t it?”
“We sail where fate directs. Still, I’m concerned with our timetable. JAMSTEC and the Americans are already suspicious. If we remain in the Trench for more than a month, they may investigate themselves. We can’t risk the Goliath being boarded.”
“How long will you be able to keep Terry on board without arousing suspicion?”
“She’ll leave only after you persuade the information out of Jonas Taylor.” Benedict smiled. “Festina lente, Celeste. Make haste slowly.”
Celeste leaned her head against her mentor’s chest, running her fingers along his stomach. “I do find him rather attractive. Does this make you jealous?”
Benedict grabbed her by the hair, yanking back hard, forcing her to look into his piercing emerald eyes. “Never forget your place!”
“Prastitye—”
Benedict released her. “Gain Taylor’s trust and obtain the information. But if he suspects the truth, kill him.”
Differences of Opinion
Tanaka Oceanographic Institute
The late-afternoon shower sent ripples across the aqua-green waters of the Tanaka lagoon. Jonas watched the rain from his third-floor office. The arena was deserted, the facility closed, pending the results of the police investigation.
Every few minutes, a hollow, metallic boom echoed across the man-made lake.
That’s three. If she sticks to her pattern, she’ll circle back into the main tank and wait another ten minutes before having another go at it.
As if on cue, the eight-foot wake rolled in from the canal, a white blur gliding into the lagoon.
The intercom buzzed. “Ms. Singer and Mr. Tanaka are ready to see you.”
Jonas left his office, walking quickly down the corridor to Celeste Singer’s office. The secretary gave him an antiseptic smile. “Go ahead inside. They’re waiting.”
Masao greeted him as he entered the suite. Jonas hadn’t seen him since he had returned earlier that morning. He looked as if he had aged ten years.
“Masao, how do you feel?”
“I’ll survive. Come, take a seat. We have much to discuss.”
Celeste emerged from her private washroom wearing a black skirt and white blouse, her platinum-blond hair pulled up in a tight bun.
“Jonas, darling, I’m so glad to see you again.” She kissed him on the cheek, then took her place at the head of an oval conference table, where a well-built gentleman in his late thirties was already seated. Steely-eyed, all business. A legal pad and miniature tape recorder sat ready on the table in front of him.
“Jonas, this gentleman is Lee Udelsman, a partner with the law firm of Krawitz, Udelsman, Kieras, and Pasquale. Since we can anticipate getting hit with a lawsuit from the parents of the dead teenagers, I thought it best to be prepared.”
“Professor, I’m well aware of the class-action lawsuit you and the Tanaka Institute had to endure over the last eighteen months. I want to begin by putting your mind at ease regarding this incident. The three teens involved were juveniles with rap sheets as long as your arm. We know they didn’t pay to enter the arena and we have a dozen eyewitnesses who saw them break into the locked facility where the attack to
ok place. We’re looking at a clear case of contributory negligence and assumption of risk—”
“Which is just our defense,” Celeste interrupted. “Those little bastards not only trespassed, but their actions cost our company more than a million dollars in damages and lost revenues. I told Lee I want to go after their parents, and countersue.”
“Of course, that’s your decision,” Lee said. “We are looking at a breach of duty of supervision. At the very least, a negligent supervision claim.”
Jonas shook his head. “Those boys paid with their lives. Isn’t that enough?”
“No,” Celeste said. “You lost two hundred million dollars before GTI took over because you weren’t prepared. There are dozens of attorneys out there circling like sharks, waiting to take a bite out of the Tanaka cash cow. I say we go after them.”
Jonas looked at his father-in-law. “Masao, what do you think?”
“Masao agrees,” Celeste answered. “Lee, let’s talk spin control. I’m scheduled to address the media in another hour to announce the reopening of the arena tomorrow morning. I want you to join me. Prepare a few carefully worded remarks about how those juveniles broke into our facility. Mention their rap sheet and how they infuriated our little Angel, inciting her to attack.”
Lee wrote furiously on a legal pad. “I can do that, Celeste, but I think we should be cautious—”
“Forget cautious. You can’t win on the defense, you have to attack.”
“Is all this really necessary?” Masao asked. “Ticket sales have jumped since the incident. We’re sold out through August.”
“Celeste, there’s something more important, much more urgent we need to discuss,” Jonas said.
Lee stood. “Let me give you some privacy. I need time to make some notes anyway.”
Jonas shook Lee’s hand, waiting until the door swung closed before he began. “Celeste, we’ve got a major problem, and I’m not talking about any lawsuit. You’ve read my report and proposal. The Meg has been trying to break out. Unless we do something quickly, she’ll escape—”
“Padazhditye—wait, slow down. Did you say ‘escape’? Jonas, darling, have you even conducted a visual inspection of the outer hinges?”
