He’d gone through an entire box of Kleenex that day.
He flushed at the memory. It hadn’t exactly been his finest hour.
Jude looked away and sighed. He liked Kat, a lot more than he cared to admit. But given that she was a hard-core atheist and a professed lesbian, the chances of any spontaneous shipboard romance developing between the two of them was slim to--
“Knock, knock! Anybody in there?”
Jude cleared his throat and focused on his readouts. “Sorry, I zoned out for a second. The, uh, result was textbook perfect. She went into an immediate threat display. The implant is functioning perfectly.”
“How about the locator? Is it secure?”
Jude reached for the swing-arm LCD monitor, suspended a foot above his head. On it, the locator’s infrared camera lit up the darkness, showing a foreshortened profile of the Megalodon’s head as the huge shark powered its way through a blizzard of marine snow.
Up by one corner of the screen, he could see the edges of the cranial implant that they’d sacrificed a million-dollar ROV attaching to the top of the fish’s cranium. Every so often, a flash of pure black lit up the screen, interfering with the infrared lens and obscuring his view until the system reset itself.
The addition of the locator, with its brilliant red strobe, had been an afterthought, but a wise one. The four-foot-wide external implant that clung to the top of Ursula’s head like a Facehugger, penetrating her thick skull and sending stimulating feelers into her cortex, gave them only limited control over the massive carnivore. They could affect her mood and migrational path, but little more. A bigger problem was that she was now aware of Insolent Endeavor and had exhibited the disconcerting habit of charging them when they least expected it.
Fortunately, their ANCILE system saw her coming and responded accordingly. The system was a godsend. Even if it did mean being occasionally tossed out of one’s bunk in the middle of the night or thrown off the toilet.
“Looks good,” he said, zooming in. He could see a few of the ragged lacerations the Megalodon, or “Ursula,” as he’d named her after his ex, had sustained during her recent battle with an outgunned, but surprisingly aggressive, bull pliosaur. “Based on her BP, I think the strobe is annoying the shit out of her, but at least she’s stopped trying to dislodge it.”
“Thank God she doesn’t have the brains to just rub it off on something,” Kat muttered. “An Orca would’ve done that in the first five minutes.”
Jude ground his teeth. It irked him when someone insulted one of his fish, especially an animal as huge and majestic as Ursula. He gazed at the monitor and pictured the rough-skinned behemoth cruising along, a mere skyscraper’s length beneath their fragile hull.
His mind wandered back to the moment he’d first laid eyes on her and goose bumps popped up all over his body. The reports they’d gotten from the region’s frustrated whalers didn’t do her justice. When she materialized through the obscuring Antarctic murk, she looked like a U-boat with teeth.
She was everything Jude could’ve hoped for, and more.
He allowed himself an anticipatory smirk. Primordial brute that she was, the huge Megalodon was his ticket to the big time. She and her pups were going to bring him wealth and power beyond his most feral fantasies. And a boatload of revenge, too. Yes, he was going to show them all.
Jude plucked his course calculator from his shirt pocket, then threw Insolent Endeavor into autopilot and got up. The seas outside were rough and he compensated for the sway of the big boat by pressing one hand up against the low cabin ceiling as he walked toward Kat’s station. Behind him, the blaze of the mid-morning sun fought to peek its way through the bridge’s heavily-tinted windows.
“How’s the tissue sample coming?” he asked. He picked up a nearby cup of coffee, gave it a sniff, and then put it down with a grimace.
“Not bad,” Kat said, not deigning to look up. “I’ve just about completed a bio-scan combined with all of last week’s diagnostics, and then I’ll start her blood work.” She reached over to a nearby ice bin and hoisted the huge impact tooth they’d retrieved, several days earlier. Hefting it in both hands, she admired the eleven inch hunk of ivory before setting it carefully down. At well over eight inches across the root, it pretty much covered a standard-sized sheet of office paper. “Risky or no, going back to that blue whale carcass to check for a recently-shed tooth was a stroke of genius,” she conceded. She picked up a pair of forceps and poked at the mushy meat clinging to the root. “This fresh gum tissue has been invaluable for my research.”
“Excellent.” Jude nodded. “It’s also a good thing I listened to you and had ANCILE up and running. Otherwise, I doubt we’d have had time to withdraw before she came charging back to defend her kill.”
Kat cocked an eyebrow. “Her ‘kill?’”
“You know what I mean.”
“Hmm. By the way, how’s the course plotting coming?”
“Done.” Jude held up the tablet. “Taking into account the presence of potential food sources, our best bet is to maintain our current heading until we’re past the Windward Passage. We’re about one hundred miles out.”
“And from there?”
“We’ll make a run through the Great Bahama Bank, past Andros Island,” he said, scrutinizing his map. “She’s been holding deep during the day, so there’s little risk. From there, we’ll swing southwest into the Straits of Florida, and then it’s straight on toward Rock Key. And some long overdue payback.”
Kat frowned at his spiteful tone. “Listen . . . do you think it’s possible you’re getting a little carried away with the whole ‘revenge’ thing? I mean, it’s just business, you know? Once we get the contracts, justice will be served.”
Jude’s head rebounded as if he’d just caught a stiff jab. “I gave Eric Grayson five years of my life, Kat. The foundation of his cybernetic implant technology is based on my work. And he tossed me out like yesterday’s garbage and stole my designs.”
“That’s SOP with any big company. You sign your intellectual property rights away the moment you walk in the door.”
Jude took a calming breath and adjusted his glasses. “Okay, you’re right. But the project was geared toward using Elasmobranches to safeguard swimmers, not convert Pliosauridae into war machines.”
“And that was the CEO’s decision,” Kat said. Now she took a breath. “Did you ever consider that, maybe, if you’d just towed the company line, you might have been able to win him over?”
“I tried,” Jude stated. He leaned against a nearby bulkhead, his arms folded across his chest. “When I found out Grayson was looking for something big enough to weaponize, I got proof that Carcharodon megalodon was still alive – photographs, videos, even a tooth fragment I bought from a whaler. Do you know what he told me?”
She shook her head.
“He said, ‘Those fish aren’t predators, they’re scavengers.’” Jude wore a disgusted look. “What was the term he used? Oh, yeah. ‘The garbage trucks of the sea.’ Can you believe that shit?”
Kat licked her lips, then reached over and ran a gloved fingertip along the hacksaw-like serrations that formed the edges of the enormous shark tooth. He could see her choosing her words. “Look, we both know that, as they mature and become bulkier and less maneuverable, adult Megalodons have a tough time catching prey and end up converting from active hunters to carrion consumers. That’s why they’re so dependent on whale populations – to sustain their brood stock. But that doesn’t make them any less impressive.”
Jude scoffed. “Well, my sharks can do something Grayson and his precious pliosaurs can’t. They don’t have to surface to breathe, and that’s going to be a big selling point with the Navy.” He wore a smug look. “You know how they like to keep things clandestine.”
“I agree.” Kat cleared her throat. “Look, we’ve put everything into this. It can pay off big. I just hope this presentation you’ve been so ‘clandestine’ about knocks the buyer’s socks off. Because
with the external implant, it’s not like we can make Ursula turn somersaults.”
Jude rubbed his hands together. “Oh, I’ve got something in mind that’s right up the military’s alley.”
“And what’s that?”
“Bloodshed. A fight to the death, winner takes all.”
Kat blinked twice. “Excuse me? Are you telling me you’re planning to--”
“I’m going to knock on Grayson’s proverbial door and challenge him to a fight: my monster versus one of his.”
“You never said anything about this. What, you think he’s going to just throw down with you, like two kids in the schoolyard?”
“That’s precisely what I expect. And, in base terms, I’m gonna kick his ass.”
“That’s insane. Why don’t we just do the presentation we initially planned? Once the Navy’s onboard, we can use their facilities to sedate Ursula, do a full implant, and then--”
“Fuck that,” Jude snarled. “My way is faster. And far more poetic.”
Kat gave an exasperated headshake. “You’re crazy! Ursula’s no match for Tiamat! She’ll be killed and we’ll be wiped out, both financially and reputation-wise!”
“You’re wrong. Grayson won’t risk his queen. Not on my chessboard,” Jude asserted. “But the head of the Navy’s Bio-Weapons Division is in Tartarus right now. Grayson will have no choice but to send out one of his captive Kronosaurus cows – probably that evil bitch Thanatos. Once we destroy her, the Navy and all their resources will be ours.”
Kat placed the back of one hand against her brow, like she did when she felt a migraine coming on. “Shit. Have you even . . . I mean have you taken into account how shallow the water in that region is?”
“Of course.”
“So what, then? You don’t actually think they’re going to give you access to Jörmungandr so you can trash it in some Kaiju-style cage match, do you?”
Jude’s hazel eyes turned to slits and he smiled humorlessly. “We’re not going to get that close. We’ll hold position by the dropoff, where there’s plenty of room to maneuver, and make them come to us.”
“Make them how?”
“I think a live video call to Admiral Callahan, overlaid with the footage of that bull Kronosaurus’s head being squashed like a grape, will do the trick.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
Jude shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe Ursula will ‘accidentally’ knock over one tower each hour from their expensive pliosaur fence until Grayson comes out of his hole. I’m sorry, Kat, but we’ve come too far to be denied.”
She got up muttering something about them both ending up as somebody’s bitch and brushed brusquely past him. When she reached the helm, she pointed at the monitor image of Ursula’s ragged head. “Look at that. You see how messed up she got fighting a fifty-ton bull pliosaur? How do you expect her to take on a cow three times that weight?”
“Those wounds are superficial. And besides, weight is the key,” Jude replied. He’d worked out all the combat variables and was confident of the outcome. “Our Megalodon is significantly heavier than anything they can throw at us.”
“And, because she’s got a fat ass, that’s going to win the day?”
“Along with the fact that, like most marine animals, macropliosaurs lose mobility as they grow larger.”
Kat shook her head doubtfully. “I don’t know about that. I’ve seen them in action; they’re much more maneuverable than sharks. And nastier, too.”
A sardonic grin swept across Jude’s angular features. “Agreed. But Grayson will have to maintain control over whatever specimen he chooses, limiting its effectiveness. Whereas we’re just going to let Ursula off her leash and let her innate aggressiveness take over.”
“And that’s going to be enough?”
“Why wouldn’t it? She’s got more mass, she’s durable, and, most importantly, she doesn’t have to come up for air. You’ll see. In a protracted battle, she’ll win.”
“I . . . really don’t know,” Kat said, staring at her feet. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” As she looked up at him, both her eyes and jaw muscles hardened. “You know, I wish you’d told me about your evil master plan before we left port.”
“Why, so you could try talking me out of it?”
“No, so I could beat the shit out of you.”
Jude chuckled and reached out, resting his hands reassuringly atop her toned shoulders. “I know it sounds crazy, Kat, but sometimes you’ve got to take risks. But trust me. I’ve got it all worked out.”
He spread his arms wide and gave her a winning smile. “You’ll see; in thirty-six hours, we’re going to be celebrating. And on some damn expensive bubbly, too, courtesy of the US Navy and Dr. Eric Grayson!”
CHAPTER
23
Dirk Braddock sat upright at his desk, his lean fingers tapping out a Fred Astaire number on its polished surface. His eyes flitted past his prized collection of macro-predator teeth and back to his oversized monitor. On it, were the results of the metallurgical torque and tension tests he’d programmed the day before. His tongue teased his upper lip as his nostrils drew in the enticing scent of fresh Columbian, wafting in from the nearby kitchen. He inspected his empty coffee mug then shook his black-maned head. A refill was tempting, but he’d been sucking down way too much caffeine lately.
In an effort to relieve tension, Dirk reached for the pair of four-inch, black rubber squares he had resting nearby. They were part of his gym ensemble. Knurled free-weight bars wreaked havoc on unprotected palms and he preferred his free of calluses.
Gripping the squares between a thumb and index finger, he slapped them absentmindedly against the palm of his free hand while resuming reading. The report told him no more this time than last time. What he’d told Dr. Grayson held true; barring some unforeseen fault in the metal used to construct the handrail in his mother’s quarters, the sturdy barrier should not have collapsed under her weight. Moreover, the computer simulation he constructed indicated that, even if Amara Braddock had run full bore and thrown herself against it, it was 88% likely to have withstood the impact.
Dirk zeroed his ratty gym bag before flipping his grip guards at it like a pair of flaccid Frisbees. He leaned back and sighed resignedly. His mentor was right. They needed to assign a team of materials engineers to conduct a formal study of the banister steel, to discover if there were any inconsistencies or concealed stress cracks. If there were, it would go a long way toward allaying his omnipresent suspicions. He could stop dwelling on his mother’s death and try putting it behind him, like the old man suggested he--
The blare from Dr. Bane’s video call nearly gave him a heart attack.
“Hello, Doctor Bane,” Dirk drawled. Both his rump and his pride were still sore from the intramuscular booster she’d given him the day before.
“I told you before. Call me Kimberly, please,” Bane insisted. “I’m just confirming our three o’clock meeting.” Her face grew huge as he switched her to a full-screen panel. He had to admit, despite pushing fifty, the tall epidemiologist looked good. Even under high-res magnification.
She wasn’t his type, of course. Not hardly. But Garm would probably do her.
Hmm . . .
Dirk’s eyes danced with hidden humor as the thought of enlisting his twin for some adolescent payback teased its way into his frontal lobe. He fought to keep from laughing aloud. That would teach the old cougar a lesson. Of course, the big guy probably wouldn’t go along with it. He couldn’t blame him. If Natalya Dragunova found out Garm was banging another woman, the results would be yikes. Of course, if the two of them broke up as a result . . .
Dismissing such selfish and self-serving thoughts, Dirk leaned forward in his chair. “Actually, I need to push our meeting back, if you don’t mind. Did you get my email, that Grayson moved the post-demo conference? It’s at four now.”
Bane shook her head. “I’m sorry, I’ve been buried in research. Can we convene afterward, maybe half-past-five
?”
“I was thinking more like six,” Dirk said. He checked his tablet as he talked. “If you’d like, I’ll pick up a couple of dinner trays from the cafeteria and meet you at your lab.”
“That’s fine,” Bane said, nodding. “You’ll want a full stomach for what I’m going to show you.”
Dirk’s eyes swung up from his screen. “Really? What have you found?”
“It’s a bit more complicated than I initially thought. I don’t want to get into too much detail over the intranet,” she said. She licked the inside of her lips. “As you know, Dr. Grayson hired me to evaluate the efficacy of GDT’s new serum, SMA-9002, set to be shipped out to fight recent outbreaks of Cretaceous Cancer.”
Dirk nodded. “I’ve seen the distribution reports, including the global listings of known pockets of infectees.”
“Yes. Well, rather than just reviewing and signing off on the clinical trials, something a monkey could’ve done, I decided to familiarize myself with the intricacies of the disease. I began with a rundown of the initial Paradise Cove infectees, before moving through all the containment and curative procedures the CDC implemented, and then, finally, the R&D done by Dr. Wilkins, my predecessor. I reviewed every development, from start to finish, including your father’s repeated antibody contributions.”
Dirk sighed. “I see.”
“I know I’ve said it before. But I’m very sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you, Doc—I mean, Kimberly. Wow. That must’ve taken some time.”
She chuckled. “Let’s just say the combination of chronic insomnia and an IV coffee drip helped.”
Kronos Rising: Kraken (vol.1): The battle for Earth's oceans has just begun. Page 47
