by Steve Alten
"Yes, Mr. Rael, this is the mantra recited by most Nessie theorists, that the retreat of the glaciers from the last ice age trapped ancient sea creatures in Loch Ness. But if you had bothered to read on, I go to great lengths to shoot this theory down. Ten thousand years is far too long for a small colony of large predators to remain isolated in a Loch, and inbreeding alone would have terminated their existence some time ago."
"Ah, but then you go on to state… hang on, hang on… ah, here it is, 'A deep-dwelling sea creature repudiated to be as large as Nessie would avoid traversing the shallows that lead out of Loch Ness and the Bona Narrows to the Moray Firth. The solution to returning to the North Sea may, in fact, lie in the Loch's unique geology. While the surface of Loch Ness lies fifty-two feet above sea level, its depths remain more than seven hundred feet below sea level. The bottom of this trough is flat and smooth, covered in a layer of sediment, twenty- five feet deep. At its northernmost section, Loch Ness is blocked by glacial sediment, however, it is now believed its northern basin may extend beyond Inverness and all the way to the Moray Firth. It is therefore likely that the extreme depths of the Great Glen do not stop at Loch Ness, but may in fact, continue north into the sea by way of a deep underground aquifer."' Max stopped reading. "Aquifer? That's an underground river, correct?"
"A river running through stratum… through rock, yes."
"And do you still stand by these words, Dr. Wallace?"
"It's just a working theory."
"A working theory from an accomplished scientist. Now let's look at your working theory about Nessie." He turned to the next marked section. "Again I quote, 'It is my opinion that the animal referred to as Nessie, if it exists, is an undiscovered species of sea creature, perhaps even a mutation. Even in this day and age, large, extinct land and water creatures are being discovered all the time, thanks to advances in technology and our ability to gain access to hostile environs. The giant Muntjac of Laos, the two hundred pound Saola, a cowlike beast, and the discovery of six new species in the Andes Mountains all being examples. Though most probably of the same species, Nessie is not, however, the same animal confronted by Saint Columba in 565 A.D., back at a time the theorized Loch Ness aquifer may have been open to the sea. In fact, our timeline suggests the modern-day Nessie is a rogue, an animal that became trapped and cut-off from the Moray Firth, not millions or even thousands of years ago, but post-Saint Columba and fairly recently at that, most likely within the last hundred years.'"
I looked around, amazed at the number of people nodding their heads in agreement.
"Dr. Wallace, could you clarify this last part for our jurors?"
"What part?"
"About the monster being less than a century old."
"Again, it's just conjecture."
"Humor us."
I took a deep breath, fighting to maintain an even temper. "The Great Glen… it's a seismically active area. The last major earthquake took place in 1901 and was so violent it actually cracked the bank of the Caledonian Canal. The epicenters of these earthquakes are usually around Lochend, located at the northern end of Loch Ness, precisely where a theorized aquifer running northeast into the Moray Firth might lie. It's possible debris from the 1901 tremor sealed off the aquifer's underground access into Loch Ness, theoretically trapping one or more of these creatures, assuming they even exist."
"And the other evidence you cite, Dr. Wallace, the theory regarding man-made explosions?"
I glanced at Judge Hannam, relishing the fact that he too was clearly losing patience. "Is this going somewhere, Mr. Rael?"
"Aye, my Lord, in fact this specific inquiry provides us with a clear reason the creature surfaced in February to attack John Cialino."
"Go on then, but be quick about it."
"Thank you, my lord. Again, returning to Dr. Wallace's research paper, 'Whether one or more of these seismic quakes collapsed the theorized aquifer is unknown, but another event—a man-made event—clearly coincides with the beginning of Nessie's modern-day sightings.
"'It was in the 1930s that construction work first began on the A82 highway. Massive quantities of dynamite were needed to blast through the mountainous rock. No doubt these blasts reverberated through the basin, upsetting any large creatures inhabiting Loch Ness. From this time period forward, sightings of the creature increased dramatically. In fact, while only a handful of sightings existed prior to the A82, they have numbered in the thousands since construction began."
Max closed the dissertation and turned to me. "Dr. Wallace, theoretically speaking, if a large predator or predators were trapped in Loch Ness, would dynamiting the Loch's basin agitate the monster, causing it to surface?"
"You just read my statement. Isn't that what I said?"
The judge eyed me a warning.
"Then, if dynamiting agitated these bottom dwellers back in the 1930s, wouldn't the same hold true for construction that occurred last winter along the banks south of Urquhart Bay?"
"Objection! My lord, this entire testimony, while entertaining to some, has no bearing on—"
"Overruled. Answer the question, Dr. Wallace."
I scratched my head, impressed at Max's logic. "I suppose if dynamite were being used, yes."
Max nodded to the jury. "The record will show that Cialino construction began using dynamite as early as last October, coinciding with numerous Nessie sightings and drownings, as confirmed by the water bailiff"
A fervor rose in the courtroom, temporarily quelled by the judge's gavel.
Max was far from through. "Dr. Wallace, hypothetically speaking, if a large water creature did prey in Loch Ness, is it possible it could have developed a taste for human flesh?"
"Objection! My lord?"
Attorneys and jury stared at the judge, the court's visitors holding their collective breath.
"No, I'll allow it," the judge said. "Answer the question, Dr. Wallace."
I felt exhausted. "A taste for flesh? Hypothetically, yes I suppose, but only if, (a) this creature or creatures of yours was a predator and not a vegetarian, and, (b) only if the species' diet had been substantially altered by some unusual break in the food chain, both of which, might I add, are highly implausible."
"And why is that?"
"Because Loch Ness has an abundance of prey. There'd have to be an unnatural ecological disaster to create such obtuse behavior. As to my unpublished theory about dynamite agitating a large predator, while the majority of sightings have occurred since the A82 went up, there have never been any documented reports of an attack on humans."
Max strolled around the witness box, preparing his next attack on my mental armor. "A personal question, Doctor, if you don't mind. If hard evidence justified your father's claims, would you then be interested in pursuing a search of the Loch?"
"No."
"No? And why not" Max turned, playing to his audience. "Surely, you're not afraid of hypothetical theories, are you now?"
A purple flash of light blurred the vision in my left eye, the warning sign increasing my pulse. "I've no interest in Loch Ness."
"Seems like you once had great interest."
"Not anymore."
"Not even if an investigation could save your own father's life?"
I stared at Angus, meeting the intensity of his gaze with my own. "My father's never needed me before, Mr. Rael. Let him fight his own dragons."
God, that felt good.
Max only grinned.
"Let's get back to John Cialino. You state, correctly, that no attacks on humans, save back to Saint Columba, have ever been documented. However, from a practical sense, if an attack had led to a human being's demise, then would there really be any evidence, any documentation?"
"There'd be a missing person's report."
"Yes, but with no evidence, no body to collect, the report'd most likely record a drowning, yeah?"
"I… suppose."
"We've heard from the water bailiff. He says drownings 'aye been unusually high since c
onstruction began on—"
"'Tis the monster for sure!" cried out an old man seated close to True. "Same thing happened back in '33. For the next three years, we had dozens o' drownings! My ain cousin—"
The judge banged his gavel as two officers of the court escorted the old man out. "On the next public outburst, I will clear this courtroom, is that understood?" He turned back to Max, realizing the defense counsel had led him to step in dogshit. "I'm losing patience, Mr. Rael."
"My apologies, my lord. The subject is a sensitive one to many a Highlander, but Dr. Wallace's testimony is vital in determining what really killed John Cialino."
"Wrap it up."
Max looked over at Angus, who nodded.
"Dr. Wallace, please tell the court what happened to you on the evening of your ninth birthday."
"What?" The reference sent stabbing pains behind both eyes. "Dr. Wallace?"
I looked at Angus, incensed that he would bring up such a black chapter in our history, and in a court of law of all places.
"Answer the question, Dr. Wallace."
"My father… he was supposed to take me fishing that afternoon, only the drunk was too busy cheating on my mother to be bothered with his only child."
The courtroom buzzed with opinion.
"So you decided to go fishing without him?"
"Yes."
"In a rowboat?"
"That's correct."
"Had you ever been out on the Loch in a boat alone?"
"Once or twice."
"Tell us what happened to you on this particular occasion."
"Oh, and did I mention the waitress he was with was a minor? They should've arrested your client back then. If you ask me, he's got a lot of nerve judging Mr. Cialino."
The judged banged his gavel. "Direct your replies only to counsel's question, Dr. Wallace."
"My boat flipped over, and I drowned, as in I was legally dead. Lucky for me, the water bailiff at the time, Mr. Alban MacDonald, was in the area and saw what happened. He dragged me aboard his boat and resuscitated me. Literally brought me back to life."
More murmurs filled the courtroom.
"Let's talk about what happened while you were out on the Loch. How did your rowboat happen to flip?"
"It was struck by a tree."
"A tree?"
"That's right, Mr. Rael. As most real Highlanders know, Loch Ness was once surrounded by great forests of Scots pine. When these one-ton trees fell into the Loch, they became waterlogged and sank to the bottom, more than seven hundred feet down. In these great depths, the pressure increases to about twenty-five atmospheres, roughly sixteen hundred pounds per square inch, enough to power a steam engine. The composition of the Scots pine is high in petrochemicals. As the trees decay, tiny gas bubbles form inside the trunk. Eventually, the bubbles reach a point where the pressure within the log is greater than that of the depths, and the tree begins to rise. The higher it rises, the less the pressure, and suddenly the log becomes a frothing projectile that literally explodes out of the water."
'And that's what struck your boat?"
"Yes."
"You're certain of that? Because according to your testimony, you drowned."
"I drowned after my boat was struck. It was a log."
"Then you saw the log as it struck the boat?"
Images suddenly blinked in my brain—subliminal images straight out of my night terrors.
Black water, fog rolling in. The sky suddenly gone topsy-turvy, the rowboat exploding upward, flipping bow over stern.
"Dr. Wallace?"
"No, I… I never actually saw the log, but I felt its impact."
"Perhaps then, it was something else altogether, something much larger? Something alive—"
"Objection!"
"Sustained. Stop leading the witness, Mr. Rael."
"My apologies, my lord. Dr. Wallace, what happened after your rowboat flipped? Dr. Wallace?"
Black water, paralyzing cold. Kick to the surface, limbs trembling. Tread water, so much fog. Which way to swim?
"Dr. Wallace, are you still with us?"
"Uh, yes, sorry. What was the question?"
"Your rowboat flipped and?"
"And I went under, then I surfaced. I was freezing, but I couldn't see the shoreline, it was too foggy. So I treaded water and yelled for help."
"I understand there were salmon in the water. A whole school?"
"Salmon?"
The water frothing with salmon, the fish battering my legs and buttocks.
"There were fish, yes. It's… it's possible they followed the tree up from the depths. Fish'll do that sometimes."
Max leaned in. "Then what happened?"
Sharp pain, like a thousand stabbing daggers …
"Something stabbed me… something below the surface. Coils of barbed wire had wrapped around the log, probably the remains of a decaying farm fence. My left ankle got snagged. As the log re-sank, its weight dragged me under with it."
"Barbed wire?"
"Yes."
"You saw the barbed wire?"
"Of course not, it was too dark and deep, but the fencing entangled me pretty good, stripped the skin clear off of me."
"That sounds positively frightening. You still have the scars?"
"Some. I had to have a skin graft."
"Would you mind showing us the scars, Dr. Wallace?"
The judge and jury leaned forward as I removed my left shoe and sock, revealing a tiny ring of scars that encircled my left ankle, the skin noticeably devoid of hair.
"The plastic surgeon did a nice job. Still, how can you be sure the wound was caused by barbed wire?"
"The physician who initially treated me certified it in his report. There were heavy traces of rust around the edges of the wound."
"I see. And is it at all possible an animal might have bitten your leg, Dr. Wallace?"
A nauseous feeling simmered in my belly as more images from my night terrors blinked in and out of my mind's eye.
Black water. Sinking faster. Struggle… kick… twist, must break free.
"Dr. Wallace?"
"No."
"No, it's not possible, or no you don't remember?"
Deeper… suffocating… ears ringing from the pressure. Suddenly free! Go, Zack… swim away! Get to the light!
"Dr. Wallace?"
The migraine's wave of pain was rising higher by that time, and it was going to be a tsunami. Reaching into my pants pocket, I fished out two Zomig and swallowed them, praying they'd shunt off the coming disaster.
"Answer the question, Dr. Wallace."
"There was no water creature, Mr. Rael," I said, my eyeballs beginning to throb.
"Let's go back a moment, Dr. Wallace. You said you took the rowboat out yourself to go fishing, is that correct?"
"Yes."
"With the new reel your father had given you?"
"Yes."
"Then why did you leave your new fishing rod on the shore?"
"I, uh… what did you say?" A chill ran down my spine.
"The fishing rod. Your father found it onshore after you'd been rescued. You never brought it out with you."
"He did? I… I don't—"
"Why were you really out on the Loch, Dr. Wallace? Were you trying to prove something to your father?"
The courtroom began tilting in my vision.
"What was it you were really searching for?"
The judge leaned over to me. "Are you all right, Dr. Wallace? You've gone quite pale."
I wiped cold sweat from my brow. "It's a migraine. I get them sometimes. This one's real bad."
"You don't like to discuss your drowning incident, do you, Dr. Wallace?" Max cooed. "It's painful for you. It causes the migraines to worsen, yeah?"
I squeezed my eyes shut and nodded.
"Still, we must discuss this frightening chapter in your childhood in order to get to the truth, in order to determine your father's guilt or innocence. Let's go back to the water creature your
father described under oath. He claimed it was at least fifteen meters long. That would give it the length and bite radius of a small whale, am I right?"
I looked up at him, the spots in my eyes nearly blinding me. "It was barbed wire that snagged my ankle, Mr. Rael. Not a whale or serpent or monster. Barbed wire!"
"And was it barbed wire that nearly swallowed you in half?"
"What?"
"It rose up after you, didn't it? You managed to twist yourself free, but it rose up after you, then snagged you a second time as you fled to the surface. Only this time it took you about the waist, just like it did poor John Cialino!"
My head erupted, and so did the courtroom. The two prosecutors were on their feet, yelling their objections in order to be heard over the crowd, while the judge whacked his gavel over and over, each earsplitting clap sending splinters of pain shooting through my brain as he futilely attempted to regain control of the proceedings.
It was a free-for-all, and I was at the center of the storm.
Barely able to tolerate the jabbing eye pain, I laid my pounding head upon the ledge of the witness box and swallowed great gulps of air, trying my best to quell the volcano of bile gurgling in my gut as long-dormant memories from my childhood continued to burst across my mind's eye.
Free! Race for the surface, faster… faster… A presence …rising from the depths beneath me! Swim faster! Ignore the pain, kick harder… A light! Get to the light… get to the light!
I clutched my head, pleading to the judge for mercy, "My lord, I need a recess."
Angus stood and yelled, "Order him tae lower his troosers, Maxie! His waist'll still be scarred by Nessie's bite!"
An officer of the court shoved Angus back in his chair as the judge beat his gavel again. "Another outburst like that, Mr. Wallace, and I shall have you bound and gagged. Mr. Rael—"
Max motioned to Angus to stay calm. "My apologies, my lord."
"Mr. Rael, finish your questions now, or I shall dismiss the witness to seek medical attention."
"Yes, of course. Dr. Wallace, on or about your ninth birthday, was there any construction going on at Loch Ness? Dr. Wallace?"
