Gorgo

by Carson Bingham

  I turned on my heel and stalked off through the night.

  Part Two:

  GORGO

  Chapter 7

  Two Paleontologists from the University of Dublin showed up early the next morning, landing in a government seaplane in the harbor. Nara didn’t have a large enough flat spot to accommodate a land plane.

  We watched Kevin McCartin’s launch chug out to pick them up. After a short confab in the launch, which Joe and I watched with great interest through the ship’s binoculars, McCartin grudgingly started up the launch and headed for the Triton.

  We helped the three of them aboard, shook hands all around, made appropriately veiled comments to McCartin, and then led the newcomers to the monster’s net.

  One of the Dubliners was named Flaherty, the other one O’Brien. Professor Marius Flaherty was a tweedy man in his forties who smoked a pipe and took it out occasionally to move his lips in and out and ponder inexpressible thoughts. Professor Desmond O’Brien was a curly-headed, sandy-haired cherub with a baby’s face who smoked a cigar and rarely said a word.

  They studied the monster from all angles, muttering to themselves, peering with interest at the scaly plates, the huge, sharp talons, and the green luminescent color of the beast.

  Flaherty took a notebook from his tweed jacket and made marks in it, while he squinted through the wire mesh. Frankly, if I’d been the monster. I’d have been dammed embarrassed at all the attention. I’d have shaken the net just a bit, I think, to throw a scare into them. But our monster didn’t move a scale. After a few minutes of this, Flaherty moved to where Joe and I stood watching. McCartin glowered at us.

  “I’ve been saying to my colleague, Captain Ryan, this is almost unbelievable!” Flaherty took the pipe out and pressed his lips together. “I wonder if you realize the enormous scientific value of this discovery.”

  Joe grinned and looked at me. “Why, I think we do, Professor Flaherty.”

  Putting the pipe back into his mouth, Flaherty turned and gazed across the foredeck at the huge shape tied down in the shark net. “Incredible!” He turned to Joe. “Well, then I shall wireless the University of Dublin at once to make proper preparations to receive the animal.”

  Joe nodded. “I see.”

  I didn’t quite like the tone of Joe’s voice. It seemed as if he was laughing under his breath, as if Flaherty and O’Brien and all this folderol over the beast was a source of some hidden amusement. I was worried. I wondered if the excitement of the catch had unnerved him and jiggled some screw loose. I didn’t get it. Not at all.

  “You will proceed, then Captain Ryan, to Dublin,” Flaherty said. The gray eyes behind the thick glasses rested momentarily on Joe’s hatchet-thin face and flat lips. “Naturally, compensation will be forthcoming for your services.”

  Joe gestured negligently. “Oh, sure.”

  I couldn’t believe my ears. Joe, so casual about money?

  “My colleague and I,” Flaherty said, turning and waving a hand at the curly-headed cherub behind him, “will meet you at the harbor.” Then he paused and gazed at both Joe and me. “Unless, of course, you’d like to have one of us go with you.

  “Very good,” Flaherty said, as if everything was settled. “Now, sir. One thing. The animal’s skin should be kept wet with water. It is an amphibious reptile, but we don’t understand too much about it. It will be best to keep a continuous stream on its back, just as you have been doing. I congratulate you on your intelligence and forethought.” He looked vaguely at the distant horizon, considering. “When do you intend to sail, Captain?”

  “Tonight,” said Joe. There wasn’t a flicker of expression on his face. “That is,” he went on, “if it’s okay with you.”

  Joe? Asking this egghead if it was okay with him? I couldn’t believe my ears.

  “Excellent,” Flaherty said, nodding and beaming. “The sooner the better.”

  He stuck out his hand.

  “Well, then. We shall expect you within a few days.”

  We shook hands all around again and watched them depart. As soon as they had cleared our decks, I turned to Joe.

  “All right, Joe,” I said. “Out with it. What’s cooking?”

  He turned an innocent face to me. “What are you talking about?”

  I could see that whatever it was, Joe wasn’t going to confide in me. At least, not right now.

  I shrugged. “Okay. Keep it to yourself. I just hope it isn’t one of your sneaky little deals that’s going to backfire on us again!”

  Joe grinned, clapping me on the back. “Have I ever let you down, Sam, Old boy?”

  “No, not completely,” I said. “And now’s not the time to start.”

  He watched me as I moved away from him. I was mad and he knew it. Whatever it was he had up his sleeve, I hoped he could handle it.

  I went below for a cup of coffee in the galley, and as I was drinking from the warm china mug I glanced out the starboard porthole. I was astonished to see two people rowing vigorously toward us in one of those hide-covered island boats call a “curragh.” The energetic oarsmen were Sean and Moira McCartin!

  I hurried on deck just as they had climbed aboard and stood inside the rail arguing with Jack Finn.

  “Okay, Boats, I’ll take care of this,” I said, coming up fast.

  Finn turned to me, pulling at his cigarette and studying me curiously with his blue eyes. “Okay, Mr. Slade. It’s your party.”

  And he touched his cap and backed off.

  “What are you two little fools doing on board the Triton!” I asked angrily. “Get ashore at once! I don’t want Ryan to see you. Jump to it!”

  Moira shook her head, her chin tilted high, her eyes hard with determination. “Not until you promise to let the beast go.”

  “Now listen here, you two!” I snapped. “I’m sick and tired of all this nonsense! I was fool enough to put up with you two last night, but if Captain Ryan finds out, he’ll flog you to within an inch of your lives!”

  “Partners, you are, is it not? Moira asked slyly in a singsong voice, her beautiful eyes working me over calculatingly.

  “So?”

  “Then the responsibility’s as much yours as it is his,” she said triumphantly. “It wouldn’t do to have human blood on your hands, now would it, Mr. Slade?”

  “Joe’s the boss,” I said. “We’re partners, but he’s the boss. There can be only one captain on a ship.”

  “Then ’tis him we shall have to see,” shrugged Moira. “If you will be telling him.”

  I moved around in front of her to block her path. “If Joe ever dreamed you had come aboard this ship last night and tried to free the monster, he’ll kill you! Believe me! It’s a serious matter with him. Now get out of here before you have real trouble!”

  “ ’Tis here I’m staying till I see him!” Moira said adamantly, shaking her head.

  I longed to take her over my knee and paddle the daylights out of her. But she was a bit too big for that sort of thing. And I didn’t think I could bring myself to do it, anyway.

  I turned to Sean, to see if I could find reason there. “What’s wrong with you two? This monster is a prehistoric discovery that may aid science immeasurably. Paleontologists from Dublin are expecting us to deliver it to them. Now you wouldn’t want to set science back another thousand years would you?”

  “Science!” snorted Moira. “The beast is death. ’Tis like catching the devil by the tail. What do you do with it once you’ve got it?”

  I groaned in frustration. “I’m not here to argue with you! I’m telling you to get off this ship!”

  “Nought will I budge, Mr. Slade! ’Tis here I’ll stand till I have my way!”

  I lit a cigarette, eyeing her slyly. “Your father wouldn’t have put you up to this?”

  “Now why would he be doing that?” she asked with widened eyes.

  “To cause us trouble. If the monster was released we’d likely leave Nara. He’d want that.”

  “Not at all!
” she said. “ ’Tis you he wants to have it! ’Tis you he wants to leave as soon as possible, and with the monster. Should it get free, his divers will leave the island. ’Tis you he wants to take the animal.”

  As I stood there glowering at her, I felt a sudden tremor of the steel deck plates underfoot. I turned startled.

  It was the monster up on the firedeck, turning around restlessly, trying to make itself comfortable inside the net. A rumbling growl emanated from the shadows under the canvas. I walked away from Sean and Moira to check the guard we’d posted that morning.

  His name was Pat Phelan, from County Kerry. I saw him sitting there by the monster, a lean, wiry young man with curly blonde hair, a rifle across his knees, looking nervously at the great green beast. He was breathing heavily, but with the rifle in his hands he seemed to feel safe. Safer than he should, I thought absently.

  When I returned to the rail I saw we had a visitor. Joe.

  He turned, smiling, to me when I came up. “Sam, we’ve got guests. Did you know that?

  “I was trying to get them off ship, Joe,” I said briefly. “I don’t think it’s safe aboard.”

  Joe shook his head gently. “You don’t seem to understand the duties of a host, Sam. We should make all our guests feel comfortable on the Triton. It’s Moira’s first time aboard. We should show her around.”

  I froze. Joe was very close to Moira now, almost touching her. My flesh crawled. Joe Ryan had definite ideas about Moira. I felt sick suddenly, as if this had all happened before.

  “The monster,” Moira said swiftly, moving back just a step from Joe as he tried to take her arm. “You must free it. ’Tis not to be kept in captivity. Don’t you see? ’Tis a manifestation of evil.”

  Joe smiled tolerantly, putting out his hand and patting Sean’s head. “Oh, I don’t see it that way at all, Moira. This is a great discovery for science, a tremendous advance for paleontology.”

  “You’ll be taking the beast to Dublin, then?” Moira asked softly, crestfallen.

  “Sure!” Joe said. “Come with me, I’ll show you the ship.”

  He took her arm and pulled her close to him. She looked across at me, frightened at first. But then, when she saw my face, her expression instantly changed, and she deliberately snuggled up to Joe, lifting her chin in the air, flaunting her closeness to him, and playing it broad for my benefit.

  “ ’Tis a pleasure I couldn’t afford to miss,” she said, speaking in her heavy singsong brogue again, for my benefit. “Sean,” she said as an afterthought, “go with Mr. Slade. ’Tis anxious he is to show you how to drive the ship.”

  As they moved out of sight she looked once over Joe’s shoulder and made a face at me. She was playing with fire. I figured, let her get burnt.

  I looked at Sean, and he looked at me. “Girls,” he said with disgust. “ ’Tis impossible to understand them.”

  I laughed and gave him a harmless punch in the shoulder. We started for the bridge where I intended to show Sean how to box the compass, when we heard another thumping and banging from the monster’s roost up forward.

  “Tell me something, Sean,” I said. “Did anyone out here on Nara ever see that thing before?”

  “Ogra? No.”

  “Then how come you’re so familiar with it?”

  Sean smiled and looked at me pityingly. “And why should anyone have to be seeing it to know it’s there?”

  He had me. I was about to admit it when the abrupt concussion of a rifle shot was followed by a piercing scream. The scream died out in a hideous bubbling gurgle. There was a tense, unbroken silence for about three seconds and then the deck was pandemonium. Crewmen appeared from all sides. We raced for the monster’s net. When we got there Jack Finn had already arrived, with six crewmen.

  The first thing I saw was the huge rent in the shark net, a gap that had been torn by the monster’s powerful talon. My eye followed along the line of the rent to the outstretched form of Pat Phelan. His body was twisted oddly, and blood poured from it all over the deck. The rifle had been slung out of reach of the monster’s talons. I picked it up.

  “Secure that net!” I cried. Jack Finn began shouting orders to the crew.

  “Slabhra!” shouted the Bos’n. “Cable!” One of the men rushed across the deck for the coil of steel cable. He was back in an instant. The seven of them then tried to whip the cable through the strands of the net, trying to weave the gaping hole together. The monster moved forward threateningly.

  I fired four shots in toward the big beast. It moved back, growling and roaring. But it stayed back, afraid of the bullets buzzing about, even though they could not penetrate the tough outer hide.

  I moved over and looked down at Pat Phelan’s body. His viscera had been completely removed with one swipe of the monster’s talon. Blood had spouted all over the deck plates.

  I turned to Sean. He stared down at the corpse. When he looked up at me I could almost read the expression in his eyes. “I told you so.”

  I turned away, angrily. Death, they had said. Death it certainly was. The death of two divers. The death of three men in third boat last night. And now the death of a crew member of the Triton.

  I turned to Finn, who had just finished patching up the shark net. “Boats,” I said quietly, “prepare this man for burial.”

  “Yes sir,” he said, turning away so I could not see his eyes.

  I didn’t want to watch. I was sick at heart. I was fed up with this excursion of death, fed up with monsters and octopuses and killer whales, and everything that went with them. I was through.

  “Where the hell is that sister of yours?” I asked Sean testily. He merely looked at me and shrugged.

  “Stay up here,” I told him, and went below. I knew Joe was showing Moira the ship, and I figured he had taken her down by the galley for a cup of coffee. Funny he hadn’t heard the commotion on deck. Or perhaps he had, and didn’t care to have Moira see it. Particularly since she wanted to get rid of the monster. It would only help prove her point.

  I tried the galley, but there was no one there. Nor were the two of them in the crew’s quarters. I retraced my steps, frowning. Where could they have gone? The engine room was no place for a girl.

  I was passing the captain’s cabin when a slight movement inside caught my eye. The door was open. I went over and peered in.

  It was Joe and Moira.

  They didn’t see me. They didn’t see me because they were too busy. I stood there a moment, watching them, disgust welling in me like a flood if nausea.

  He had her down on the bunk, tight in his arms, and although he had not progressed past the preliminaries, he was certainly making fast and very sure time with her.

  I was sick—fed up—with myself and Moira and Joe.

  Then her eyes opened slightly, and over Joe’s shoulder she saw me. Suddenly her eyes widened, and she pushed Joe off her. It was no effort. She could have done it before, but she hadn’t.

  “Somhairle!” she cried. “Somhairle!”

  She struggled to get up, trying, at the same time, to pull down the dress that had ridden up over her thighs, to push the open buttons of her blouse together.

  Joe turned with a leer. “Hi, Sam. Didn’t your mother ever teach you to knock before entering?”

  “She did!” I snapped. “And now I know why.”

  Joe slid to his feet, fluid and catlike. Beneath his bravado he was eyeing me uncertainly. I must have shown a great deal of my anger on my face—more than I thought.

  Moira was sitting on the bunk now, shaking her hair back and tossing it away from her face nervously. She watched me out of those grave, sea-green eyes. I could see that she wished she had never started fooling around with Joe.

  “Okay, Sam,” Joe said, moving toward me. “Show’s over. I’d turn around and trot out if I were you.”

  “You’ve been asking for it for a long time, haven’t you, Joe?” I was mad now.

  His eyes were slitted. “I haven’t been asking for it, Sam,”
Joe said softly. “Why don’t you check out your facts with the little lady?”

  Moira’s eyes widened, and she glared at Joe. Then she turned to me. “No, Somhairle!” she cried. “It isn’t true! Somhairle!”

  “It looked pretty damned real to me, Moira,” I growled.

  “Real is the word for it,” Joe grinned wolfishly. “Real good!”

  A red swirling cloud enveloped me, and I moved without thinking. I lashed out at him swiftly, trying to block his blows. But I must have telegraphed my punches, because he threw me aside, grabbed me by the waist and tossed me onto the bunk.

  I bounced right off, going for his throat. He twisted aside and swung a blockbuster at my head. I saw it coming and ducked. But I tripped, and went down on the deck.

  I lay there a moment, trying to grab a breath of air. Then I climbed to my feet.

  Moira was holding onto Joe’s arm, pleading with him, her eyes teary, her hair around her shoulders. Joe’s face was wryly amused. His big, knotted biceps were straining, but I knew he wasn’t interested in me right now. He could have thrown her off him in an instant with a minimum of effort. He didn’t seem to want to. He knew a good thing when he had it.

  Moira turned to me, her face red and wet. “Somhairle! You stop it! ’Tis a truce I’m asking!”

  I moved at Joe, unable to hold back.

  Moira turned to me, pulling at my arm the same way she had clung to Joe’s.

  “Somhairle! By all that’s holy!”

  The girl. The green-eyed lovely shape of all that was wonderful in the world. She, pitted herself against two senseless, fighting, brawling males. I shook my head. I turned away. How did she always manage to shame me in the worst possible way?

  I shook her arm off me and plunged through the doorway. As I moved down the passage outside the cabin door I could hear Joe’s flat laughter, and Moira’s angry scolding.

  One of them was phony.