“Weird?”
“It looks like the signal is breaking up. I’m not a sonar guy, but if I didn’t know better, I’d say we’ve got multiple readings!”
“Son of a bitch! Do ya have a visual yet?”
“Nope, the water’s cleared up since the sharks took off, but whatever’s doing this is still too far off.”
The first mate watched Christian clamber exhaustedly onto the nearby launch platform and collapse. Lying on his back with his legs in the water, the exhausted teenager’s chest rose and fell as he fought to catch his breath.
Willie shifted a few feet to clear the crane’s boom and tapped his radio button. “Adam, turn on da hydrophone, please. Tell me what ya hear.”
“You got it.”
Willie looked apprehensively at the water. Large displacement bubbles were rising up around both the Harbinger and the sperm’s bird-covered corpse. His eyes widened as he glanced over at Joe and leapt onto the crane’s brightly colored cab.
“Ya gotta get dem outta dere!” He pounded on the cab’s wall. “Whateva is down dere is comin up!”
Joe ignored him and gripped the ascension lever that put the winch into gear. He hesitated. “She still ain’t at full power.” He gestured at the dials in front of him. “The hydraulics ain’t got enough pressure yet. We need more time, man! I dunno if I can get ‘em clear to the deck!”
“Well, ya have ta try,” Willie yelled as the water around them boiled over. “Punch it, mon!”
A frown creased Joe’s bearded face. He mouthed a silent prayer, tightened his grip, and prepared to pull back.
Just then, Adam shouted over the radio. “Hey Willie, you can relax! Everything’s alright!”
Willie wore a skeptical look as he placed a staying hand on Joe’s shoulder. “What do ya mean every ting’s alright? What’s up?”
“It’s just a pod of transients!” Adam whooped. “One of our study groups. I’ve got them on the viewers. They’re all over the place!”
On cue, the whitecaps around the Harbinger erupted. The pod of orcas exploded into view, their squeaky cries echoing as they rose by twos and threes until two dozen were gathered around the William.
Willie released a pent up sigh and climbed down from the crane. He walked to the railing. Resting one hand on the smooth metal, he watched the group of killer whales milling about. Some cruised around the dead whale, scattering gulls and terns as they bumped it with their noses. Others hovered over their calves, staying away from the carcass and close to the Harbinger.
Willie whooped into his hand unit. “Tank God! I was worried da Leviathan hisself was comin after us. It’s only transients. Ya recognize dem?”
“I sure do,” Adam replied happily. “It’s B-11 and her pod. I spotted her double-notched fin. And that has to be Omega-Baby towards our bow.”
Willie turned in the direction Adam pointed to. He was right. They’d graphed the bull’s measurements last year. At a solid thirty-two feet in length and weighing just over ten tons, OB-1, or Omega-Baby, as the crew of the Harbinger called him, was the biggest killer whale in the region. He was ten feet longer than the average-sized female, and the biggest mama’s boy Willie had ever seen. A killing machine capable of destroying a great white shark in a single charge, the huge male spent most of his time following his mother around like some enormous black and white puppy, even attempting to suckle at times.
The Harbinger’s research confirmed early on that, despite older, erroneous reports that male killers were herd bulls that collected cows into kept harems, pods of Orcinus orca were actually tightly-knit matriarchal animals. The smaller cows ran the show under the leadership of an experienced alpha female, or matriarch. She chose their migration routes, planned their hunts, and led the pack. The huge bulls made use of their size and strength by acting as protectors against predators like sharks and squid, and served as heavy hitters when it came time to deliver the coup de grâce on large prey.
Oblivious to the cries of the killers as they circled the area, Willie continued to smile.
“Hey, Christian,” he yelled down. “Just hang tight for a second. I want ta make sure da connector bolts hold!”
Christian gave a wave, then began playfully kicking seawater at the orcas, laughing whenever one of the toothy mega-dolphins came within range.
Willie turned to Joe. “Okay, I guess now’s as good a time as any ta bring dose two chickens back onboard!” Chuckling at his long-time colleague, he turned back toward the railing.
As he watched, one of the orca cows spun the William’s nose around by bumping noisily against one its aluminum pontoons. Willie’s grin wavered. The impact was relatively gentle – undoubtedly an accident – though the sound still sounded like a muffled gong.
Willie’s growing concern quickly turned to horror. Two of the twenty-plus-foot females quickly followed their pod-mate’s lead, rising up in the water at high speed and ramming the now off-balance mini-sub with what sounded like thunderclaps.
The orcas were attacking.
“Holy shit! What the hell’s going on?” Lane yelled, his panicked voice wavering beneath the impact of the cows’ assault.
“Jesus Christ!” Willie swore.
Below him, he could see Christian still sitting there, frozen in place as chaos unfolded all around him. Suddenly, a battle-scarred killer whale propelled itself up and out of the water, showering the young intern with salt spray. Its massive head and forequarters towered over the landing platform, landing hard and depositing the weight of a full-sized SUV on the rust-coated deck. Willie’s stomach cramped as he clocked the whale’s ragged dorsal fin.
It was the matriarch.
The giant cow blinked as she stared menacingly down. Her eyes met Christian’s, and she uttered a loud hissing warning that blended with the sound of straining steel. She snapped her jaws loudly together, then heaved her fourteen thousand pound body back into the water. To Willie’s relief, not to mention Christian’s, she left the frozen youngster untouched.
“Joe, get dem da hell outta dere!” he bellowed at the gaping crane operator, then shouted down, “Christian, get your ass up here! Now, mon!”
He watched as the shaken intern struggled to his feet and staggered up the stairs, muttering Cantonese curses.
Surprisingly calm, Joe worked fast, swiveling the crane’s boom assembly toward the ship’s bow to compensate for the current. His eyes tightened as he threw the diesel-powered retractor into gear and held on. The winch shuddered, issuing a metallic whining noise. It turned, struggling under the William’s twelve thousand pound load. Inch by inch, the pearl-white submersible was drawn up from the churning swells and away from the infuriated whales.
Undeterred, the agile female orcas continued to rain attack runs down upon the besieged sub. Leaping clear of the water two and three at a time, they brought their combined weight crashing downward, bludgeoning the swaying craft. Inside the William, Lane and Mike were screaming so loud their cries could be heard without the mini-sub’s com system.
“Jesus Christ!” Lane cried. “What the hell’s gotten into the whales? Joe, get us out of here!”
Willie stared fearfully at the crane’s shivering cable. There was a sudden groan. Then the winch slipped. The William dropped like a stone, crashing into the frothing seas below. The orcas circled the downed submersible at high speed, their sleek forms a lethal ivory and obsidian whirlpool.
Willie barked into his handset. “Adam, I taught killer whales didn’t attack people? What da fuck is goin on?”
“I don’t know, Willie!” Adam’s voice was quavering. “That’s what I’ve always read. I don’t think they’re after Lane and Mike. They’re very agitated and calling out repeatedly with their high-pitched acoustic cries. It’s like they’re trying to reach other pods.”
There was momentary static.
“Willie, I think they’ve picked up on whatever killed Elvis! I think they’re sensing a rival predator!”
“Well, that’s goddamn
great!” Lane yelled. “So they’ve decided our twelve million dollar submarine is that predator? That’s fucking wonderful!”
Mike’s words were drowned out by a shuddering impact as the matriarch made a pass at the mini-sub. The ferocity of the attack knocked the submersible’s rudder assembly entirely out of place, jamming it into a twisted mass of rubber and steel. Stunned by the force of the collision, the big female drifted off balance. She twitched a few times, then righted herself and swam off.
Willie cursed as he saw how severely the mini-sub was damaged. Even if they managed to free the William from the Harbinger’s restrictive cable, Lane and Mike had lost the ability to maneuver. Suddenly, the orcas ceased their attack and backed away.
Willie’s rapidly beating heart sank into his bowels.
Omega-Baby was preparing to attack.
The frustrated matriarch had called for one of the bulls to move in and finish the battle. Hovering close to his mother, a suddenly no longer playful Omega-Baby responded to the whistling summons.
Willie roared at the top of his lungs. “Joe, ya got ta get dem movin! Now, damn it!”
His useless radio clattered to the deck. The William was still half-submerged and the giant male was racing back to gather momentum for a charge.
Willie felt like vomiting. His big hands grasped the hot steel railing so tightly it hurt. With the William pinned motionless against the Harbinger’s hull, the orca’s twenty thousand pounds of muscle would plow into it with the power of a bulldozer. He knew the submersible’s design specs. When the orca struck, the William would be crushed like an aluminum can under someone’s work boot.
Lane and Mike were going to die.
He started losing it. He rushed to the crane’s open window. “Get dem up out of dere!” he bellowed, reaching inside and tearing at Joe’s arm. “We gonna lose dose men! Do some ting!”
Joe’s face contorted as he lashed out. “Don’t you think I’m trying?” He pulled his arm roughly away. “Jesus! Just give me a fucking second! I’m giving the pressure time to build. If I don’t, they got no chance at all!”
“Dere’s no time, mon!” Willie screamed, staring bug-eyed as Omega-Baby started his attack run.
Joe reared up out of his seat and peered over his instrument panel. He caught sight of the mammoth bull as it surged forward, its steely body propelled by powerful strokes of its eight-foot flukes. The look on his face only confirmed Willie’s words.
There was no more time.
Joe stared wide-eyed at his pressure gauges. He grabbed the retractor lever and pulled slowly back, praying the winch wouldn’t slip again, leaving the William and her crew dead in the water.
Willie watched the dials, his lips trembling as he crunched numbers in his head. They only had sixty percent power. Based on the mini-sub’s weight it might be enough, but he wasn’t betting on it.
He held his breath. The battered William inched its way up as streams of seawater ran down its dented flanks. Joe closed his eyes and threw the retractor lever into full. The William lurched its way higher, its damaged pontoons free of the waves that yearned to drag it down. Willie wanted to cheer. It looked like they were going to make it.
Sensing his target attempting to clamber up the side of the ship, the giant orca submerged thirty yards out, curling his body into a tight underwater roll. He dove deep, then wheeled upwards, accelerating. With a roar, he exploded out of the water, directly beneath the hard-shelled object he sought to destroy. With his huge jaws spread wide, he lunged for the William with all his terrible power.
Inside, all Lane and Mike could do was scream.
“A dinosaur? C’mon doc, gimme a break.” Caffeine in hand, Jake gave an irritable snort and sank back into his sofa.
Her hands on her hips, Amara stood irately. Exasperated, she turned and stalked back to her computer, where Archimedes’ find still emanated from its screen.
“Jake, we’ve been going over this for half an hour,” she said. “I’ve told you three times that the animal that lost this tooth is not a dinosaur. It’s a marine reptile known as a pliosaur.”
Amara held the huge canine point up as she spoke.
“A pliosaur.” Jake shook his head in disbelief. She was trying to convince him that Phil Starling was killed by a reptile that died out sixty-five million years ago. He downed the remainder of his coffee and stood up. “Riiiiight . . .”
Amara rolled her eyes and started tapping away on the keyboard. “Look, I know how unbelievable it sounds. Like something out of a Spielberg movie. But the evidence is sitting right in front of us.”
Arms folded, Jake drew closer, bending at the waist as he peered over her shoulder. “And what did you say the scientific name of this creature is?”
“Kronosaurus queenslandicus. It means ‘God of Time Reptile.’ It was named after Kronos, the ruler of the Titans in Greek mythology. He was the one who devoured his own children.” She twisted in her seat, her chest rising as she gestured at the image she’d enlarged. “There’s your mystery monster,” she announced, “or something very similar to it.”
Jake froze, realizing all he saw was Amara’s cleavage.
She cleared her throat and continued. “These creatures were the dominant predators of the prehistoric seas. They were tremendously powerful, highly maneuverable eating machines with huge flippers that propelled them through the water. They tore their prey to pieces with massive jaws bristling with conical-shaped teeth. Sound familiar?”
Jake moved closer, resting his calloused knuckles on the desk beside her. His fierce gaze shifted from the tangible piece of dentition in front of him to the computer-generated image above it. “Well, if you’re so sure about your findings,” he said. “Why does it say it’s only an eighty percent probable match?”
Amara shrugged. “I’m not sure. Either it’s some sub-species of the same animal, or this tooth and the animal that owned it have changed over time.” She swiveled around, her eyes widening. “Think about it, Jake. Sixty-five million years is an incredibly long time. It’s inevitable that this creature adapted in response to its environment.”
Jake sneered. “I’m not buying it, doc. There would have to be a large breeding population of these things running around in order for them to be alive today. Yet no one’s ever seen one. How is that possible?”
Amara paused thoughtfully. “I don’t know. Maybe the animals are normally reclusive and this one is some kind of rogue. Or maybe, there’s a secluded population out there that we just don’t–”
Jake held up a hand. “Hold on.”
Outside the computer room, a door opened and closed. Jake walked over and opened the door leading to the station’s reception area, revealing a plump, middle-aged woman dressed in a white blouse and khakis. She was in the middle of placing her purse and other personal belongings on the desk outside.
“Good morning, Molly,” Jake said with a smile. He gestured for her to come inside. “I’d like you to meet Doctor Amara Takagi. Doc, this is Molly Simmons, the best receptionist and dispatcher I’ve ever had the privilege to work with.”
“Oh, he’s such a sweetie. Of course . . . I’m the only receptionist he’s ever worked with.” Molly smiled and took Amara’s hand. “Wow, that’s some handshake you’ve got there, Doctor Takagi. Oh . . . is this a house call? Is something wrong with my Jake?” Concern etched her face as she reached over, touching the back of her hand lightly to his forehead.
Amara replied with a straight face. “Nothing serious. Just a moderate case of jock itch. I prescribed some ointment and warned him to stop scratching, especially in public. Otherwise,” she grinned evilly. “He knows it will only get worse.”
Jake nearly choked. “Doc–”
“Oh,” Amara cut in. “If you can, Molly, would you make sure he changes his underwear more often? At least every other day. And some baby powder might help, too. For the areas he’s already chafed raw.”
Molly nodded. “Of course, Doctor Takagi. I–”
&nb
sp; Flushed with embarrassment, Jake shook his head. He smiled patiently. “I’m fine, Molly, really. Doctor Takagi is just kidding. She’s not a medical doctor, she’s a marine biologist, and she’s here to help us with an investigation.”
“Oh. Well then, in that case, thank goodness!”
“Yes, thank goodness . . .” Jake rolled his eyes. “Anyway, we’ll do our best to stay out of your way and head out momentarily.”
“Okay, you’re the boss.” As she left, the receptionist turned back. She cast a covert glance at Jake’s crotch region, then looked Amara up and down, studying her face and figure, before giving her an approving smile.
“Very funny, doc.” Jake whispered after she closed the door, “You should be careful. Molly is like my adopted mother. She likes to play matchmaker, and has a bad habit of trying to push every attractive woman she meets on me.”
“Oh . . . so, you think I’m attractive, eh?” Amara teased as she moved back to the computer. “And by the way, how did I end up covered with a blanket last night?”
Jake’s eyes widened. “Uh . . . what?”
“You heard me.”
“Look, you’d been up all night working, and it was chilly. I couldn’t just let you lie there all night on a hard desk and do nothing.”
“Hmm . . .” Amara studied him intently, her aquamarine eyes flashing merrily. She gave him a coy smile. “Where were we?”
“We, um . . . were discussing your ‘findings’,” Jake redirected. “Look, we know we’ve got some mystery animal on our hands – that much I’ll go along with.” He grabbed a nearby chair, wheeling it next to her. He dropped into it wearing an exasperated look. “But if we start yelling there’s a prehistoric monster on the loose, people will think we’re insane. There’s no precedent for this kind of thing, and other than this unidentified tooth fragment and that hunk of skin, we’ve got no evidence.”
“Actually, we’ve got more than you think,” Amara replied. She turned back to her keyboard. “We’ve got a growing string of attacks, topped off by a dead whale that looks like it was mauled by Godzilla.”
KRONOS RISING: After 65 million years, the world's greatest predator is back. Page 27
