Oath of Office

CHAPTER 43

The crunch of Gilbert Stone’s cruiser on gravel startled Lou from an exhausted, dreamless sleep. He wiped salt and perspiration from his eyes, rose blearily to his feet, and reentered the clearing, wheeling the ground radar system ahead of him. Stone parked near the Mercedes, emerged from the cruiser, hoisted his heavy utility belt above his ample belly, and then settled a campaign hat over his mop of graying hair. Lou met him at the blockhouse, outside the green door.

“Anybody else coming?” Lou asked, glancing down the road.

“I’ve got two teams on standby,” Stone answered. “Tell me everything. What’s that contraption you’ve got there?”

“It’s portable radar. I think the corn Chester is growing is poisonous.”

“Poisonous?”

“I know it may be hard for you to believe, but I think William Chester is producing vast amounts of corn, genetically modified to grow larger and faster by combining it with the genes of a large African termite called Macrotermes bellicosus-perhaps the most reproductively proficient animal on the planet.”

“And you think this corn is somehow poisoning the citizens of my town.”

“I do.”

Stone made the same high-pitch whistle that Lou remembered from the first night they met. “So what on earth brought you way out here?” Stone asked, gesturing to the woods surrounding them.

“You remember Joey, the cook at Millie’s who nearly got his thumb sliced off?”

“Of course.”

“Well, a couple of years ago, Joey found these huge mutated termites in the woods and made them his pets.”

“Mutated?”

“Termites,” Lou repeated.

“How are they mutated?”

“Well, first of all, they’re bigger than other termites of the species, and secondly, they eat flesh in addition to their usual diet.”

“Holy gravy,” Stone said, making that whistle again. “So what do these bugs have to do with corn?”

“Well, initially I thought it was airborne contagion-inhaling pollen from Chester’s modified corn-that caused the odd behaviors taking place around town. I went to see a bug expert in Philadelphia to see if that was even possible. Turns out that the termites Joey found are an African species, clearly imported here by someone. This piece of equipment-” Lou tapped the cart’s handlebars. “-can be used to track their underground ventilation shafts.”

“And you tracked one of these shafts all the way to this building?”

“That’s right,” Lou said proudly. “The bugs must have flown out and started another colony, or else they escaped through a crack in the foundation. The expert and I aren’t sure, but we don’t think it’s an airborne contagion anymore. We think the termites are being intentionally mutated-radiated, most likely-and then their DNA is being combined with the corn to get this huge, rapidly growing, genetically modified, monster vegetable. Frankencorn, I’ve been calling it.”

Stone looked at Lou queerly. “But if it’s not airborne, how’s it making the people sick?” he asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Well, we’ve got to find out. I got some more troublin’ news to share with you. More proof, I guess, that something really wrong is happening here in Kings Ridge.” Stone pulled a kerchief from his pocket and used it to mop his brow. “Roberta Jennings accidentally killed herself yesterday.”

“What?”

“Poor dear took some painkillers and alcohol, then sliced open her belly with a kitchen knife. Apparently, she was trying to lose some weight the quick way. The ME says she cut a couple of arteries and bled to death.”

“Oh, God,” Lou muttered.

He swallowed hard. Roberta Jennings had completed the pathetic circle John Meacham had begun. Another terrible decision. Another violent death. Lou considered disclosing then and there what he knew of Darlene Mallory, Double M, and a huge shipment of corn, maybe Chester’s corn, headed someplace by train, but he needed to clear things with her first.

“Can we get inside?” he asked, pointing to the green door. “Do we need a warrant or anything? I’m fairly certain that the source of whatever is going on here is behind that door.”

Stone’s eyes flashed. “Of course we can get in. I’m the damn chief of police.”

“Do you know what this building is used for?”

Stone nodded dully, then said, “Sure I do. Heck, I authorized it.”

Lou looked up at the man, bewildered. “Well, what is it?” he asked. “It doesn’t look like much.”

Stone snorted a mirthless laugh and pointed down. “That’s because it’s all belowground,” he said.

“What is?”

“William Chester’s research laboratory,” Stone said, a note of impatience creeping into his voice. “We excavated it years ago. He already owned the land and wanted a place where he could conduct research without attracting much attention. Hardly anybody even knows about this access road.” Stone pointed to the dirt road behind them. “The seed business is very competitive, you see. Chester was worried about trade secrets being stolen-industrial espionage and such. We gave him the permits to build an underground lab because, well, Chester Seed Company is what makes Kings Ridge a viable community.”

“So do you know what they do down there?”

“Not really. The security system feeds to a room in the basement of the Chester mansion-the place you and your friends visited. As far as I know, these people have been complying with all our permits and regulations. We never gave them permission to radiate bugs, though, and turn ’em into mutants, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“Do you know whose car that is?”

“Actually, I think it’s one of Bill Chester’s.”

“He’s here,” Lou said. “Maybe he can finally provide some answers. How do we get in?”

“Well, we can pound all night on this door, or we can use this.” Looking somewhat puffed, Stone held up a key. “Like I said, I’m the chief of police.”

With a turn of Stone’s key, the green metal door swung open on well-oiled hinges. Brushed steel wall scones illuminated the cinder block entrance and a staircase with a metal handrail. Stone removed his gun from its holster and started down, with Lou following.

“Should we send for backup?” Lou asked.

Stone turned. For the first time, his expression had darkened. “I saw what Roberta did to herself,” he said. “If the cause of what happened to her is down these stairs, I intend to uncover it here and now.”

Lou nodded as Stone cautiously resumed his descent. They came to another locked steel door at the bottom of the stairwell. A keypad secured access to whatever was behind it. Without hesitating, Stone punched in a short series of numbers. Then after a soft click, the red LED light on the pad turned green and the lock responded.

“What now?” Lou asked, somewhat surprised by Stone’s familiarity with the place.

“Now we go in,” the cop said simply.

Remembering Chester’s thugs, Lou glanced up the stairwell behind them, wishing at least that reinforcements were on the way. At the same time, he wondered again about precisely how tight Stone was with the mogul at the center of Kings Ridge’s prosperity.

The cop pulled open the door without first peering inside. Either he had no reason to believe any threat existed, or in his zeal to get to the bottom of Roberta’s death and the rest of the troubles in his town, he had become reckless.

Or maybe, Lou found himself wondering, it’s the corn at work.…

He fell into step behind Stone and followed him down a short corridor that dead-ended at another windowless metal door with another keypad.

“Better stay back,” Stone said. “Not sure what we’re going to find behind this door.”

At least he’s finally being cautious, Lou thought.

Again Stone keyed a number sequence, and again the access panel’s red light gave way to green.

“I hope you’re right about forging ahead like this, Gilbert,” Lou said.

“I’ve had just about enough strange things happening in my town.”

Pistol at the ready, Stone went in with Lou following. The space ahead of them was brightly lit.

Just inside the threshold, Lou stopped abruptly, his mouth agape at what he was seeing. A series of conveyor belts snaked throughout a large area. Corn seed, lit by banks of powerful overhead lights, covered every inch of the conveyor belts in a golden river that seemed to have no beginning or end.

Suspended above the conveyor belt was a thick metal tube, four feet long, with gauges, control knobs along the side, and smaller tubes running down its length. It appeared to be a ray gun of sorts with a short, six-inch muzzle, half the diameter of the main tube. The rest of the space reminded Lou of Oliver Humphries’s lab on steroids-stainless steel tables, centrifuges, multiple microscopes, glass cabinets stocked with flasks, beakers, plastic tubing, pipettes, and other scientific materials.

Lou composed himself and quickly covered the gap between him and Stone. “My radar machine picked up some sort of expanse down here,” he said. “I suppose this is it. Do you have any idea what’s going on?”

Instead of responding, Stone surveyed the crowded underground laboratory, training his gun wherever he looked. With a nod, he motioned Lou down a central corridor toward another door. It was stainless steel, like the others, but this one had no keypad. Lou moved up beside the cop.

“I think you’ll want to see what’s behind this,” Stone said.

“Aren’t we being a bit cavalier, not sending for backup?” Lou asked.

Stone did not reply. Still training his gun ahead of him, he opened the door. It seemed to Lou as if the man knew precisely what he would find, and was not at all concerned. From where Lou stood, the space ahead was dark. Stone disappeared through doorway, reached to his left, and flipped on high-powered fluorescent lights. Moments later he motioned with his gun for Lou to follow.

Lou hesitated, feeling increasingly uneasy. Oh, well, he thought, in for a penny-

One step through the door, and he froze.

The space, warm and humid, was at least the same size as the laboratory. Echoing off the stainless steel walls was the machinery-like humming of insects-many, many insects. He stepped forward onto a grated steel walkway with heavy metal pipe railings and three- or four-foot chain-link sidewalls that crossed a pit at least twenty feet deep. The whole space just below the walkway was covered with a dense metal screen. With the overheads reflecting off the fine mesh, it was difficult to see what was in the pit.

But Lou had no doubt.

Stone reached over to the wall next to him and depressed a large red plastic button. Smoothly, gears engaged and the vast screen slid back on tracks and rolled up on a reel at the far end. Revealed below was a terrible, surreal landscape. The sides of the massive pit were lined with brushed stainless steel, gleaming beneath the overheads. The surface of the space looked like an alien moonscape, formed by at least a hundred termite mounds of various heights and sizes, some of which reached upward to within ten or fifteen feet of the walkway. The chilling diorama was swarming with Macrotermes bellicosi. Like the mound in the forest, more insects were humming about through the air-some actually flying above the steel catwalk.

For a time, Lou remained transfixed on the bugs below as they moved with blind purpose in and out of the mounds. This was their city-their home. The clicking of thousands of feet and jaws made his fillings ache.

The walkways were three feet wide, crossing at right angles to one another over the precise center of the pit. Thick metal rods, descending from the ceiling, held the walks firmly suspended in place. There was a door ending the walk to their left, and a third door, painted red, directly across from them. That door featured a large decal with the yellow symbol for a biohazard. Even from where he stood, he could read the words below the symbol: CAUTION RADIATION AREA.

Lou batted at a huge termite that buzzed past his face. “Behind that door is where they must be mutating the termites,” Lou said as much to himself as to Stone. “And the conveyor belt in the lab we just passed through is where they fire the termite reproductive genes into the corn seeds.”

He had been so astonished by what he was seeing that it took some time for him to register that the police chief was not.

Stone nudged the toe of his boot against a sturdy metal pole resting by his foot. The pole had what looked like several extension segments, and the head of it had a rotating claw for grabbing and gripping. Lou wondered if it was used for feeding.

“I’m guessing these are your bugs,” Stone said, too nonchalantly.

Lou looked over at the heavy service revolver and felt himself shudder. “No ladders. There’s a reason people don’t want to go down into that pit. The termites must not be able to scale that surface.”

Stone appeared somewhat troubled. “And you think the bugs little Joey adopted slipped out of a crack somewhere in the foundation here?”

“I do. Or else enough of them flew out and escaped this place to start a colony.”

“Let’s see if we can find where that leak might have happened. That infernal clicking and grinding can really get to you. Can’t hardly hear your own footsteps sometimes. It’s like they’re constantly eating.”

But eating what?

Stone stepped out onto the catwalk until he was standing above one of the larger mounds.

Now with his senses electrified, Lou followed. Stone’s haphazard approach to investigating the lab and observing the termite metropolis continued to gnaw at him. Even without firsthand knowledge of police departmental procedure, Lou assumed that Stone had violated many safety measures in this investigation.

If he’s so familiar with this place, Lou wondered, why did he even let me come down here? If anything happens to me, it would be Stone’s responsibility.

Lou glanced down into the pit again. Something between two mounds directly beneath him caught his eye-a glint of gold. He strained to get a better look. Then his body tensed and he broke into a chilling sweat. The golden object was a necklace with a handcuff pendant attached-Notso Brite’s necklace.

It was at that moment Lou knew exactly why the chief had let him tag along.