Menace From the Deep

by Michael P. Spradlin

  Dr. Geaux paused before answering, running a hand through her curly black hair.

  “We are examining the video, but have every reason to believe it is a hoax. Alligators and pythons are apex predators who generally do not feed on each other. We believe whoever sent this video is taking advantage of an unusual migratory behavior of some species and has obviously used computer animation to dramatize an event to make it appear that these creatures are the reason we are seeing several species on the move in the Glades. This event has clearly been staged to create hysteria and panic. Giving in to that panic only allows this individual to gain the notoriety he or she seeks. The Everglades belong to the people, and will remain open for their enjoyment. We will, of course, advise caution to all who visit the park. But we believe this ‘Dr. Catalyst’ is a fraud attempting to perpetuate some type of hoax for reasons yet to be determined. The National Park Service is cooperating with state and local agencies, and we expect Dr. Catalyst will be exposed as a charlatan very soon.”

  Reporters shouted more questions, but Dr. Geaux did not answer, instead walking away from the assembled media and returning to her office. Dr. Catalyst slammed his fist on the console in frustration.

  Fraud!

  Charlatan!

  How dare that woman? Dr. Geaux deliberately lied to the people! She possessed a carcass of one of his creations and knew exactly the greatness of his achievement. She wished to keep the park open, did she?

  He stormed to a cabinet along the wall, opening it to reveal a rack of tranquilizer rifles. Hefting one, he sighted down the barrel. It was time to raise the stakes.

  Fraud.

  “We’ll see about that,” he said to the empty room.

  EMMET HAD NEVER EXPERIENCED A FIRST DAY WITH A teacher like the one he had with Dr. Newton. Everyone sat at highboy lab tables in hard-back stools where they could conduct their experiments. Emmet wasn’t sure if he got off on the wrong foot with Dr. Newton or not. In fact, after about five minutes he wasn’t sure if even Dr. Newton knew where he stood.

  But first, he was assigned a seat. His lab partner was apparently going to be a kid named Jimmy Johnston.

  “Everybody calls me Double J,” he said as Emmet sat down on the stool next to him.

  “My name is Emmet,” Emmet said, trying to get comfortable in the high-back chair.

  “Cool. Where you from?” Double J asked.

  “Moved here from Montana,” he said.

  “You like science?”

  Emmet shrugged. “I guess it’s okay.”

  “I don’t,” Double J said. He was taller than Emmet, already close to six foot, which was tall for a sixth grader. He was about as big around as a #2 pencil and his long hair was an indeterminate brown color pulled back in a ponytail. The weather outside was already pushing eighty degrees, but Double J wore a thick leather jacket, blue jeans with a chain wallet attached to his belt, and thick black army boots.

  “Oh, well. What classes do you like?” It was probably a good idea to try to be polite to someone dressed like a biker. Even if he was a sixth grader.

  “Lunch,” Double J said, putting his head down on the table atop his crossed arms and falling immediately to sleep. Emmet jumped when Dr. Newton called his name.

  “Emmet Doyle!” he said, from the front of the room.

  “Yes … sir,” Emmet replied with hesitation.

  “Class, meet our newest student, Emmet Doyle,” Dr. Newton said. There were a few muttered “hi’s” but the response was otherwise underwhelming.

  Dr. Newton strolled up to Emmet’s table, giving him a good looking-over, like he might be buying a horse or something. He was medium height, a little on the heavy side. His long hair stuck out all over his head like he’d been shocked, and he wore a tweed sport coat over a green T-shirt that said I SUPPORT GREENPEACE in white letters. His new science teacher also wore Birkenstock sandals with socks. To Emmet, this made him immediately suspect.

  “You’re from Montana,” Dr. Newton said.

  Emmet wasn’t sure if it was a question or a statement. So he just nodded yes.

  “What did you do there?” Dr. Newton asked.

  “Um. Snowboarded, went to school, I —”

  Dr. Newton cut him off. “Snowboarded! You know, ski resorts are bad for the environment. They destroy the habitat. What do your parents do for a living? Do they work for oil companies?”

  Emmet wasn’t sure what was going on. It felt like he was on trial.

  “I only have my dad … he’s a scientist. He works for the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service. He’s here to work in the Everglades. He —”

  “The Everglades. Pfft. The government is ruining the Everglades. They have no backbone. Won’t stand up to the corporations who’d just as soon pave over the Glades and build condos.” Dr. Newton stared at Emmet.

  Emmet was pretty sure you couldn’t pave a swamp, but he kept that remark to himself.

  “I wouldn’t know about that. He’s an avian specialist. He’s working with the Park Service on migratory —” Again, Emmet didn’t get a chance to finish.

  At the mention of “avian specialist,” Dr. Newton’s demeanor suddenly changed. It was subtle, but he stood up a little straighter and his eyes drilled into Emmet with an intense stare.

  “An avian specialist, you say. What kind of birds?” Dr. Newton asked. Truthfully, it was more barked than asked. The guy was making Emmet nervous and he didn’t know why.

  “Raptors. H-he works on how —” Emmet stammered, but was immediately interrupted.

  “Raptors? What is he doing here? Trying to figure out how the government and the lobbyists are killing off the eagle and osprey populations?”

  “Uh. No. At least, I don’t think … he doesn’t …” Emmet got all tongue-tied and didn’t know what he was supposed to say, desperate to find the words that would send Dr. Newton on his way. He felt like an ant being studied by a praying mantis.

  “Hmm. Well, I’d like to meet your father sometime. And learn more exactly about what it is he thinks he’s up to in the Everglades. Helping the raptor population? I seriously doubt it. But welcome to Tasker Middle School and Florida City. Luckily for the environment, you can’t snowboard here.” Dr. Newton kicked the table leg and Double J came awake with a start.

  “Suntans!” he said out loud, having just been woken up without warning.

  “Wake up, Mr. Johnston, or you’ll have plenty of time to work on your tan when you flunk out of school.” Dr. Newton handed Emmet a textbook he’d tucked under his arm. “This is your text. We’re on chapter thirty, the study of the ecosystems of coral reefs and the marine life they support. Try to keep up.”

  He spun on his sandaled heel and stalked to the front of the room. As he did so, Double J coughed an uncomplimentary word about Dr. Newton into his hand.

  “Sounds like you have a cold, Mr. Johnston,” Dr. Newton said. “Perhaps a few days’ suspension will allow you the time to get healthy again.”

  Double J said nothing, returning his head to the table. Emmet could swear that in four seconds or less he was already snoring softly. He’d never seen anyone fall asleep so fast.

  After meeting Dr. Newton, he was glad there was only one more period to go in his first day at Tasker Middle School. It was going to be a long, long time until summer vacation.

  THE FIRST WEEK OF SCHOOL FELT LIKE A YEAR TO EMMET. The academic part was fine. And he actually liked Calvin’s friends. But Dr. Newton was making his life a little miserable. After their first encounter, he made a point of seeking Emmet out every day. He quizzed Emmet about his father and if he was working with Dr. Geaux on the strange migrations of the animals in the park. It was all over the news, he constantly reminded everyone in the class, and the media knew the government was behind it. The government kept secrets, blah, blah, blah. And if that wasn’t bad enough, he just kept piling on the homework and seemed to take exception to anyone who said anything even remotely controversial about the environment, spouting into a long lectur
e. Emmet thought he might be one of those people who would be happiest if everyone lived in huts and subsisted on a diet of twigs and bark. And wore Birkenstocks with wool socks. Emmet just couldn’t get past that.

  The two of them rode the bus to Calvin’s house after school. They would wait there until their parents got home from work, and a couple of times they went out for dinner, or Calvin would heat up something in the microwave.

  So far Calvin’s tree house had become Emmet’s favorite place. The two of them got into the habit of doing their homework up there, and the setting was very relaxing. The breezes up in the trees cut the heat and it was more comfortable there.

  It was Thursday, nearly the end of Emmet’s first week at Tasker, and it was amazing how much homework he was given, especially in science class.

  “What is the deal with this Dr. Newton guy?” Emmet asked Calvin.

  “The Newt? I don’t know. He’s a bit odd, I guess,” Calvin said.

  It took superhuman effort on Emmet’s part to not point out that Calvin spent most of his time in a tree house and carried the world’s biggest backpack, and yet he just described someone as “a bit odd.”

  “Duh. He walks around all the time like his hair is on fire. Man, he hates the government. Gives me all kinds of grief about my dad, who just studies birds. And why is he a doctor?” Emmet said.

  “I don’t know. He has a PhD in biology or something. The word is, he comes from a wealthy family that made all their money building hotels or something in Miami. There’re rumors he doesn’t have any other relatives and he didn’t want to do anything but teach science in middle school. He’s into all kinds of environmental causes around here. ‘Save the Manatees’ and ‘Save the Everglades’ and ‘Save the Snowbirds,’” Calvin said. “He gets into it with my mom sometimes. She just thinks he’s kind of a harmless crank. Feels guilty about his family tearing everything up, so now he wants to preserve everything.”

  Emmet’s head snapped around. “Did you just make a joke?”

  “I don’t think so,” Calvin said.

  “Yeah, you did. Good job. You said ‘Save the Snowbirds’ and thought I wouldn’t catch it. Anyway, Dr. Greenpeace Newton seems to have it in for me.”

  Calvin shook his head. “I don’t think so. He’s tough and can be opinionated, and gets a little soapboxy about the environment, but he’s actually a pretty great teacher. He’s on you a lot right now because you’re new and he’s challenging you. Seeing what you’re made of. You’ll learn a lot. I did last year.”

  “How come you don’t have him this year?” Emmet asked.

  “Like I said, he’s involved in a lot of environmental causes. He’s got money and that gets him on boards and committees, and he makes big donations and doesn’t see eye to eye with my mom very much. I can’t say he was ever unfair to me, and I got an A in the class, but he actually suggested I have Ms. Susskind this year to avoid any appearance that he might have a conflict of interest. The whole thing was his idea. Like I said, tough, but pretty fair.”

  “Well, right now he’s making me feel like I’m personally responsible for the decline of the grizzly bear population in Montana because I went snowboarding every once in a while. Doesn’t even know the grizz are on the way back,” Emmet groused.

  “That’s Dr. Newt. But you’ll like him by the end of the semester. Trust me,” Calvin said. Emmet was skeptical.

  They were quiet a while as they worked. Emmet observed that just as in most everything else he did, Calvin was a serious student. But before long the conversation between them inevitably turned to Dr. Catalyst, who was all over the media in South Florida the last few days.

  “Phony or real?” Emmet flipped on his back, tired of his science textbook.

  “What?” Calvin asked.

  “Dr. Catalyst. Do you think he’s real, or is he a fake?”

  “He’s real. Somebody is sending those emails and videos.”

  Emmet sighed. “Not what I meant. Do you think there is just this one guy behind making those freak-a-gators?”

  “The what?”

  “Calvin, I’ve only known you a short time, but sometimes I think you do this on purpose. You know very well what I’m talking about. Those things that tried to munch on us in the swamp. My dad says the avian DNA strain matches an owl from Asia. Or someplace that starts with an A, maybe Alabama, I don’t know. Anyway, it’s a really big, bad bird of prey. So somebody mixed up owl and alligator DNA into a hybrid species that would take a lot of money and knowledge to create. So my question is, Dr. Catalyst … is he behind it, or is he just the front man for a group of extremists who want to take back the Everglades?”

  “Oh,” Calvin said. “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know?”

  “No. I haven’t really thought about it.”

  “Seriously? You haven’t thought about it? It’s all over the news. People are packing up and moving away until the police catch this guy. Regular alligators are practically riding bicycles down the street because something is driving them out of the swamp. Stuke says his dad is working overtime every day answering police calls from people who think they have a gator in their chimney or their glove compartment, and you ‘haven’t thought about it’?”

  Calvin shrugged. “Not really. Down here in South Florida we’re used to eco-protestors. People make all kinds of demands when it comes to the environment. Some want to close the park completely. Others want to make everyone move out of South Florida so it can return to its natural state. This guy just seems like the next in a long line.”

  “But what about the almost-ate-us-gators? Everybody is running around saying they’re not real. It’s all a computer-generated hoax to scare people. But they are real. We’ve seen them, so somebody definitely created those things. Don’t you think a person like that is dangerous?”

  Calvin shrugged again. Emmet was starting to think a shrug was Calvin’s primary response to everything. Hey, Calvin, your hair’s on fire. Shrug. Hey, Calvin, look at the size of that cat! Shrug. Calvin, here you are … one million dollars, tax free. Shrug.

  “Whoever he is, he’s right about the invasive species,” Calvin said. “The snakes have just about killed off most of the small mammals. You hardly see a swamp fox or opossum or even a raccoon when you’re out there these days.”

  “Wait. Are you saying some guy inventing his own animals is okay? Animals with big scary teeth? Remember, that one time, WHEN THEY ALMOST ATE US?”

  Calvin, no surprise, shrugged. “No, I’m not saying what he’s doing is right. My dad used to talk a lot about the balance of nature. And now that balance has been upset. My mom and other park officials have been trying to come up with a solution to save the mammals and birds being wiped out by pythons. It’s been nothing but frustrating for them. Restoring the balance is never easy once it’s been altered. People let these big snakes loose, or they escape and no one realizes the damage they can do. They don’t have any natural predators, and all the species they eat here haven’t adapted to their presence.”

  “So it’s okay for Dr. Cataracts to make a monster in a lab to fix the problem? They wrote a famous book about that once. It was called Frankenstein. Didn’t work out so well,” Emmet said. “Plus, a couple of his ‘solutions’ tried to have us for brunch!”

  “Well, I didn’t say that….” Calvin said.

  Emmet saw that winning an argument with Calvin would be difficult at best. So he changed the subject.

  “You know, Riley likes you,” he said. This time Calvin’s head snapped up from his homework, his dark eyes boring into Emmet.

  “She … you … What did you say?” Calvin stammered. He didn’t shrug this time.

  “Riley. She likes you,” Emmet said, pretending to be very interested in his homework.

  “No she doesn’t,” Calvin insisted.

  “Does too.”

  “Does not.”

  “Does too.”

  “What are you, six? How long are you going to keep doin
g this?” Calvin asked.

  It was the first time Emmet ever saw him so agitated.

  “Does too!” Emmet said, smiling.

  “She doesn’t know I like her,” Calvin said. “I mean — she doesn’t like me!”

  “Aha!” Emmet said. “I knew you knew it. And you like her back.”

  Calvin stood up and paced back and forth in the small space of the tree house.

  “You can’t tell … you better … I don’t want her to …” Calvin was really flustered. Emmet was about to speak, when they heard the sound of a car in the driveway.

  “As much as I’m enjoying this moment and would give almost anything to prolong it, that’s probably my dad. Time to go,” Emmet said. He gathered up his books and stuffed them into his book bag, then climbed down the tree with Calvin sputtering behind him.

  DR. CATALYST MOVED THROUGH THE SWAMP IN NEAR-total concealment. He wore a specially camouflaged jumpsuit, which kept him hidden in the shadows and allowed him to blend in with the flora of the Glades. The suit was a unique design. It was waterproof, and two small solar panels attached to the shoulders powered an air circulation system. As the heat rose from his body, the suit sent coolant into tiny vessels through the fabric next to his skin. It kept him from overheating and also made him harder to detect by any infrared or heat-seeking devices. His face was covered by sophisticated eye gear used by military Special Forces units. They looked like swimming goggles, but could work as binoculars as well, and were controlled by a thin panel attached to his wrist.

  All week he’d been waiting for the right opportunity. Dr. Geaux had called him a fraud and a charlatan, and so far refused his demands to close the Everglades. She gave him no choice. It was time to up the stakes.

  He spent most of the day watching the park head-quarters through his hidden cameras, observing the comings and goings of the personnel. Dr. Geaux deployed teams of rangers in airboats and doubled the patrols combing the swamp, sending her officers to every inlet, stream, creek, and copse of trees looking for anything unusual.