Beneath the Dark Ice

Thirteen

Aimee was prodding the severed mass with one of Alex’s knives. “This is impossible; but I can see this is only a small piece of a much larger animal. There’s a terminal pad, dactylus and manus, carpal knobs and a partially severed stalk of a tentacle club. I think this is from a very large cephalopod-type creature.”

“Cephalopod? A squid? Is that what you’re telling us? We’re in a cave deep under the earth and we just got attacked by a freaking octopus! Dr. Weir, they don’t get that fucking big and they certainly don’t live on — or under — the land.”

Aimee looked up quickly at Silex, surprised by his fury and the way he had chosen to direct it at her. Before she could respond, Matt knelt down beside her and took the knife from her hand.

“I did my early thesis on aquatic deities and their influence on early cultures and you’d be amazed to know just how many races worshipped giant squid — or feared them. The Norse had their kraken, the Hawaiians their many-armed Kanaloa, the Babylonians had Dagon; there are dozens more. In their legends, they often came to shore and they were big. By the way, Dr. Silex, Babylon was hundreds of miles from any ocean.”

Aimee had kept her eyes on Silex who was flushed and breathing hard. She spoke directly to him as calmly as she could. “Adrian, I’m not sure it’s a cephalopod creature as we know it; but at least now the ammonium chloride makes sense — giant squid excrete the chemical and are literally filled with it.”

While Silex appeared to be on the verge of panic, Matt looked like a schoolboy who’d just been thrown a surprise party. “Hey, that’s right. I remember that from some of the cephalopod legends. The giant squid belongs to a group called ammoniacal squids. They have heavy concentrations of ammonia in their systems which gives them a few interesting little tricks. They can be neutrally buoyant and aren’t destroyed by the pressure depths. They also have a high resistance to freezing; and they are real smart… oh, and very aggressive. Ever seen that sketch of the French ship attacked by a kraken?”

“Oh, bullshit. It still doesn’t explain what it’s doing so far from the ocean.”

Aimee took the knife back from Matt’s hand and scraped the blade along the length of the pale mottled lump, collecting a jellied glob of its slime coating. She held the knife up for Silex to see. “I’ve been thinking about that; there is one little extra advantage of the ammonia chloride being suspended in a gel; it will stop this thing from drying out. I agree it needs water, but it looks to have adapted to be able to leave it when it wants.”

Alex took the knife back from Aimee, flicked the slime from the blade and resheathed it. “How was it able to copy us? That thing actually looked like Johnson before we severed it from the main creature.”

Aimee looked down again at the six-foot stump of flesh and shuddered. Though her scientific curiosity was aroused by the discovery, she felt uneasy and vulnerable at the thought that they had just rejoined a food chain that mankind hadn’t been part of for millions of years.

“This has got to be something that we’ve never seen before or at least has left no trace in the fossil record. I don’t know exactly how it can copy us, but I have an idea. This thing has been cut off for millions of years and has been free to follow a whole separate line of evolution, one that is limited by a vastly different environment. There are no dinosaurs or even whales to hunt it so its size would be unconstrained by predators. It may have needed to lay eggs or feed above the water, so it evolved an ability to hunt in these caves. And we know squid are intelligent; marine biologists have proved they’re at least as smart as dogs.” Aimee got slowly to her feet and looked at each member of the group; for different reasons, each one was now staring at her.

“But I think what is more relevant to what we have witnessed here is that some cephalopods actually have an ability to change colour and reproduce patterns and body shape to mimic other species. For instance, the sepioteuthis squid mimics parrot fish. It swims backwards and displays two false eye spots. The arms and tentacles are held together and waved from side to side like a fish’s fin. Because the parrot fish is herbivorous, mimicking them allows the squid to get closer to potential prey species that do not consider parrot fish to be their predators. I think this is exactly what is happening here. It’s just that we are the prey being mimicked.”

Margaret Anderson’s eyes were glistening with tears in the reflected light of the torches. Her face was white and she was visibly shaking. “You mean this giant thing is trying to catch us for food?”

Aimee had turned back to the large leaking mass of flesh before them and didn’t respond immediately. From this distance, the acrid smell was enough to make her eyes stream and replace her dispassionate scientific observations with an impression of cunning, sheer size and lethality. The thing was covered in serrated suckers the size of dinner plates and from the centre of each, in a retractable sheath, were curved tusks that had obviously been responsible for Mike’s deep wounds.

She shook her head; they should have been separated from this thing by millions of years and the thought of being anywhere near the entire creature made her stomach give a little shiver. She half-turned to Margaret and responded without looking at her.

“That would be my assumption, yes.”

With the help of the quiet medic Zegarelli, Mike sat up with a groan and gave a weary and very bloody thumbs-up. Alex could see the medic had done his job and the blood loss had been staunched by using a battlefield adhesive that glued the wound back together. The big medic was stabbing him with a hypodermic full of a universal antibiotic and adrenaline as Alex knelt down next to him. Zegarelli shone a small light into Mike’s eyes and asked, “What can I give you for the pain, Lieutenant? Morphine, Naloxone, whisky?”

“Give him some salt, he enjoys the pain.” Alex put his hand on Mike’s back to help him sit up straight.

Mike gave a small laugh which ended in a cough that coloured his lips red with blood. “Just the whisky, Bruno, and make it a double.”

By habit, Mike refused all painkillers as they were likely to deaden his reflexes. While he was looking down to fasten his suit Zegarelli caught Alex’s eyes. The medic made a small, flat wiping motion with his hand and then pointed straight up. Alex understood; Mike needed to be topside.

Mike coughed again and spoke directly to Alex. “It came at me when I moved. It was so fast and strong; Johnson by himself wouldn’t have had a chance.”

Alex kept his hand on Mike’s shoulder to support him and nodded. All the evidence pointed to the Hendsen party encountering the same creature. If they had been lured into the deeper caves then surely they were all lost.

“Thank God you made it, Mike; we need to get you back to the surface to properly treat those wounds.” Alex stood and didn’t need to raise his voice in the cave, now silent as a tomb. “Party’s over, ladies and gentlemen. We need to evacuate this area immediately and re-establish contact with HQ. We are not equipped to deal with this type of biological threat.”

Matt stepped forward. “Captain Hunter, this is the most amazing find of the century. It makes the rediscovery of the coelacanth look like an old sardine sandwich. It could validate dozens of different cultural mythologies. If I can just get a few shots of the creature, and maybe a small sample we can at least give the next guys something to work with.”

Alex could understand Matt’s enthusiasm, but had no time for a debate. “Dr. Kerns, every time we have encountered this creature someone has died or been hurt. My priority now is to keep everyone safe and that means getting back to the surface, pronto. I’m sure you can request to return on any subsequent trip.”

“But… just two minutes.”

Alex thought of Johnson for a second and changed his mind. A sample would be needed, at least to develop a weapon for when he returned to kill it. “All right, you have one minute to take photographs of this mess and take a small sample. Everyone else we need to—”

Alex was interrupted by the sound of a sliding, liquid movement from deep within the cave. It gave the impression that something enormous was coming up fast. Alex looked at the group. Without being ordered, Tank and Takeda flattened against the walls and resumed their defensive positions; everyone else had their eyes on Alex. Most were frightened but still self-contained, only Margaret Anderson looked agitated. She had been standing to the rear looking ashen-faced ever since the tentacle club had been dropped in the middle of the group. She held her hands to her mouth and kept shaking her head as though to make the image of the giant unseen carnivore disappear. Alex could see her repeatedly swallowing and guessed she was going to be sick. She was like a deer on the verge of bolting. Before Alex could get around the group to her, she panicked and ran.

Zegarelli called her name and set off after her. Shit, thought Alex. He motioned to Takeda, pointed at the backs of the fleeing medics and made a chopping motion, indicating he stop them.

“This is a right mess, Captain.” Silex didn’t want to miss an opportunity to have a dig at Alex.

Alex ignored him and called to the group to shoulder their packs and follow at double time. Tank would bring up the rear. The last to leave was Matt, who was busy slicing off a sample of the tentacle. He tried to remove one of the tusks as well, but all he succeeded in doing was hurting his hand on the scythe-like edge.

Borshov had reached the basin floor with one of the Krofskoya assassins and was already unhooking himself from his ropes. The third assassin was preparing to climb down when the woman burst from the farthest cave, her cheeks covered in tears and her mouth stretched open in a silent “O” of fear. Just a few feet behind her was a man, his hand outstretched as if to catch hold of her. Borshov could tell just by the way they moved they were not HAWCs — good.

In the pitch-black of the caves, Borshov and his assassins were invisible to the newcomers. Borshov pointed with one hand at the man and made a throat-cutting signal to the nearest assassin. He moved quickly to intercept the woman.

There was a faint double phutt sound and Zegarelli dropped to the cave floor with two small holes above his left eye. In her panic, Margaret wasn’t aware that her colleague now lay dead behind her and she simply thought one of the HAWCs had managed to get in front of her when a darkened shape stepped into her wavering torch light. She didn’t have time to realise her mistake and her last conscious sensation was an explosion of pain as Borshov smashed his massive fist into her face.