Authors: James Byron Huggins
Frank bowed his head, thinking he should have known. He asked the next question only for confirmation.
“GEO, according to initial programming performed by Dr. Frank, what would Leviathan logically conclude as the ultimate purpose of a genetically completed Hunter-killer Mode?”
“
Dr. Frank knows the parameters of Hunter-killer Mode. Dr. Frank created Leviathan.”
A dark tide was rushing over Frank's consciousness, sight and sound forgotten.
“I know, GEO. But I want you to answer the question. What would Leviathan conclude as the final purpose of its own independently completed Hunter-killer Mode?”
“
Leviathan would logically conclude purpose of Hunter-killer Mode to be complete elimination of unfriendly organisms.”
Abruptly
Frank sensed that everyone in the Observation Room had stopped working. Somehow touched by the corporeal focus he turned, saw a dozen pale faces staring at him. He licked his lips, knowing a quick nervousness, a transmitted fear that burned into him, feathering his heartbeat. He felt his breath increase, faster, and he was almost as surprised as everyone else when he asked his next question.
“
GEO, would Leviathan distinguish at all between friendly and non-friendly organisms?”
“
It is not probable that Leviathan would differentiate between friendly and non-friendly organisms. It would attempt to—”
“
Terminate answer,” Frank said quickly, taking a deep breath. “GEO, if Leviathan has brought itself into a Hunter-killer Mode, what is the best course of action?”
Instantly the computer replied.
“Do not awaken.”
* * *
Chapter 7
“Like I need a computer to tell me that!” Frank turned to see Chesterton standing in the doorway. The colonel stood for a second before he walked forward, focusing on everyone, on no one. He paused in front of Frank.
“
I just knew ...” Chesterton said, shaking his head. “I just knew that you people couldn't control that thing.”
Frank was motionless. His eyes darted from Chesterton to the computer panel.
“But this... this wasn't supposed to happen, Chesterton. Leviathan's neural enhancement wasn't supposed to promote itself into a Hunter-killer Mode!” He looked up. “I mean, if this thing is in a Hunter-killer Mode, it's going to want to kill ... to kill everything ...”
Chesterton stared, grim.
“I never counted on this,” Frank whispered, bowing his head. “I never counted on any of this ...”
“
Well you'd better count on it now, Frank.” Chesterton grimaced. “Because things have now and forever changed. And because I'm in charge of this place, I'm telling you right now that there's not going to be any more tests. At all.” He hesitated, surrendering a little of his hardened tone. “But ... try and calm down a little, son. This isn't something we can't overcome. I've been through worse.”
Turning to the fire wall, Chesterton placed his hands on his hips.
“Still, though, we're going to have to take some serious precautions. And that means I'm going to shut down this operation until I can find a way to permanently secure that thing inside that cavern.”
“
How are you going to do that?”
“
Honestly, Doctor, I don't know.” Chesterton continued to stare at the fire wall. “That thing is sixteen feet tall and thirty-five feet long and is without question the meanest, most vicious thing to ever walk the face of God's green earth. It's got claws and teeth that are as hard as diamond. It's armored like a tank, and it's strong enough to rip the hull out of a battleship. So containing it ain't gonna be easy. But then again, it's never been easy. We'll just have to do it. Or die trying.” He turned back. “And if all else fails, Frank, we've always got the fail-safe.”
Frank's hand tightened on the computer chair.
Chesterton continued, “But no matter what happens, Doctor, we've got to contain that thing inside that cavern. And we've got to kill it inside that cavern.” He stared down. “And you can tell Adler that this experiment is officially over. As officially over as it's gonna get.”
His mind spinning, Frank whispered,
“But I don't think that you can hold it, Chesterton. Not if Leviathan really wants to get out. That cavern was never designed to hold anything like this.” He trembled. “I don't think that anything can hold it. Or stop it.”
“
Well, you're wrong about that, Frank. Because that fail-safe of yours can stop it. Dead in its tracks.” Chesterton turned again, studying the titanium fire wall. “But you've got a point. And ... maybe you did too good a job, son. Maybe even better than they wanted you to do.” He paused. “One thing is certain, though. That thing is going to sleep as long as you've got it in a nitrogen atmosphere. And nobody is going to be waking it up. Not for anything. And in the morning, I'm going to get on the horn to the Pentagon and obtain more men to mount a company-sized defensive perimeter that can—”
But Frank was no longer listening. Because with Chesterton's words, a horrible thought had settled over him, a black shroud of a thought that had blocked out everything else. And the scientist turned away, staring blindly at the wall as if he could even now
see the black-scaled monster rising from the cavern floor, flames kindled in its mouth, hell-hating eyes glowing like coals. It was a revelation that came from Frank's back, unexpected and unseen, moving through him like a superheated soul to pass out the blackened wall.
Too good a job
...
“
Oh, no,” he whispered.
Releasing some of his tension, Chesterton was still going.
“—and in a few months, we'll have cemented the corridors so that it can never escape to kill everything that walks or crawls on the face of the—”
Frank broke him off, touching the headset with a trembling hand.
“GEO,” he said quickly, a gathering fear in his voice, “use analysis of Leviathan's numbered molecular DNA strands to calculate if it is numerically possible for polyploidal chromosomes to achieve the following mutation: Determine if Leviathan can replicate an immunity factor to a nitrogen-based atmosphere.”
Frank's quiet command brought a horrified Hoffman to his feet. Chesterton suddenly paled, pausing from his doomsday drum to stare, mouth tight and grim. In a moment the computer replied.
“Presuming accuracy of assumption that Leviathan has genetically self-promoted Hunter-killer Mode to evolution by mutation of polyploidal chromosomes, it is certain that Leviathan has achieved dual-strand polyploidal DNA of sixteen billion, two-”
“
GEO, I don't want to hear the calculation. I just want the conclusion. Is it numerically possible for Leviathan's polyploidal DNA chromosomes to continue mutation until it achieves an immunity to nitrogen?”
A pause.
“If Leviathan's DNA has reached Hunter-killer Mode by self-mutation, it is numerically possible for Leviathan to replicate mutated polyploidal DNA to make a nitrogen-based atmosphere nonpoisonous.”
Frank closed his eyes. He had never expected this. It had been one of the unknowns. But now, in this single surreal moment, he knew that everything had changed. Would never be the same. He
spoke distinctly into the headset. “GEO, I want you to extrapolate from this morning's attack and tell me how much longer, from this second, it would take Leviathan to attain an immunity to nitrogen.”
Hushed breathing could be heard in the room.
“Leviathan would require an additional ten hours, fifteen minutes and thirty-two seconds to replicate sufficient dual-strand DNA to achieve an immunity to nitrogen” came the calm reply.
Lab techs reacted, clutching. Frank's mind had accelerated to computer speed. He asked quickly,
“Will Leviathan be able to generate flame in a nitrogen atmosphere?”
“
No. Oxygen level must exceed twenty—”
“
Terminate answer,” Frank interrupted, unable to wait for the computer's response. “Will Leviathan have full-strength use of all other weapons in a nitrogen-based atmosphere?”
A blood-hot wind, dark.
“Yes.”
Frank was already moving for the room.
“I've got to talk with Adler,” he whispered, sweating.
As he neared the door, Frank recognized the deep, rich fear that liquefied his entire body an
d he fiercely resisted the overwhelming need to rush, not wanting to spur panic. But as the doorway loomed up, he felt himself rising higher on his feet, moving lighter into it, and as he cleared the frame with the hallway open and white with air before him, he gave in.
Running.
* * *
Thor belched loudly over his empty plate, rubbing the corners of his mouth to smooth out the mustache of his bright red beard. He nodded to Beth, gesturing with his usual theatric flair.
“
A finer meal I have never tasted,” he laughed, leaning back in his chair to place both hands on his expanded gut. With an air of supreme contentment he patted his ample waist, gazing at Connor.
“
My strength is returning,” he smiled.
“
Uh-huh,” Connor replied, leaning his chin on a hand. “You sure you had enough? I mean, I could go kill a steer or something if you need some more. There's some big ol' mountain goats up in the hills that—”
“
No, no,” Thor replied, gesturing. He glanced slowly to the window; the long red sunset had faded to black. “Perhaps, yes, on my next trip, we shall hunt one of the longhorns. But for now, I think, we should proceed to coffee.”
Connor blinked, turned to Beth.
“Darlin', you better put on the big pot.”
“
I've already started it,” Beth smiled, placing dishes in the industrial-sized sink. She turned back as she began washing. “Hey, Thor, I've always wanted to ask you something. How come your parents named you Thor? Isn't that the name of a Viking god or something?”
Thor nodded, working studiously with a toothpick.
“Yes, it is the name of the Norse god of thunder,” he commented, clearly eager to speak forth now that dinner was complete.
Connor leaned back, smiling slightly. He knew that Thor, starved as he was for someone to talk with, would dominate the conversation for the better part of the night.
“It has always been a common and popular name in Nor-way,” he continued. “I have two uncles by the same name, Thorson and Thorwulf. And my father's name was also Thor.”
“
Is that where you were born? Norway?”
“
Yes,” Thor said, picking at a stubborn gap in his teeth. “I was born in the Northland, where there are few people. My family were sheepherders. I was raised in the Lofoten Isles located between the Norwegian Sea and the Vest Fiord.”
Beth looked up.
“On the sea? It must have been awfully cold.”
“
No.” Thor shook his head. “Not so cold. Here, so close to Iceland, we are in the southbound Arctic current that comes down from the Pole. It is a cold current. An iceberg current. But Norway is far to the east. It is located beside a northbound current coming up from the Atlantic. It is a warm current, so the Norwegian coast is well above freezing. It only becomes cold when you go inland to the fiords, where the sea wind cannot warm the air. Then it is much like this place. Very harsh. Very cold.”
Connor spoke.
“Why were there so few people in the... uh, the...”
“
Lofoten Islands.”
“
Yeah. The Lofoten Islands.”
“
It is a brutal land.” Thor frowned. “The closest village is Harstad, over 120 kilometers away.” He gestured with the toothpick. “It was a hard life, I tell you. We were forced to make everything for ourselves. Our houses, clothes, lamps, fuel, saddles and bridles. Whatever we had, we made from the land. Our boots were sealskin stuffed with sedge grass.”
Screaming gleefully, Jordan ran into the room, still wet from a bath. He crashed wildly against Connor, crawling quickly and with fierce determination into his lap. Connor laughed, hugging the small naked body, wiping the wet brown hair from the childish eyes.
“Time for bed, Jordan,” Beth called from the kitchen.
“
But I don't want—”
“
Jordan,” Connor repeated, attempting to appear stern and unbendable. “You heard what your mother said.”
Jordan stared back at him, seeming to weigh Connor's conviction, deciding he could risk a protest.
“But Thor is here and ... and ... and Thor always tells me a stooorrry.”
Thor laughed gustily.
“Thor can tell you a story on his next visit,” Beth said, wiping her hands as she walked forward. “Now give Daddy and Thor a hug. I'm going to read to you and then we'll tickle feet. Thor can visit you again tomorrow, and then he can tell you a big, long story.” She cast a weighty glance at Thor. “A
big
story. Just like he always does.”
Thor smiled as Connor wrapped his arms around the tiny form, and then Jordan leaned back, staring intently at his father.
“Are we still going fishing tomorrow?” he asked.
With a laugh, Connor replied,
“Yeah, boy. Of course we're going fishing. I promised you that we'd go fishing, didn't I?”
“
Uh huh.”
“And don't I always keep my promises?”
Jordan smiled.
“Yeah. You always keep your promises.”
Laughing, Connor hugged him a moment.
“Okay. Now it's time for bed. But tomorrow you and me are going fishing. And Thor will even come back and tell you a story. So give Thor a big bear hug and say good night.”
Jordan descended to the floor and walked around his chair, vanishing for a moment in Thor's gentle, massive arms. Then the child leaned back, gazing into the bearded face.
“You'll come back tomorrow after we go fishing and tell me a story?”
Thor held the tiny hands, gazing down.
“For sure, boy. I'll even come back tomorrow and tell you a long, long story about a magical sword and a great king who used the sword to destroy a terrible beast.” Thor nodded seriously. “It is one of my best stories.”
“
Okay,” Jordan said, enduring the disappointment of not hearing the adventure this minute. He turned to give Connor a kiss.
“
Nite-nite,” Connor said.
“
Nite-nite.”
Beth smiled and picked him up and in a moment had disappeared into the back of the stone house. Connor rose from the table and went to the kitchen, returning a moment later with two large containers of coffee. Thor nodded gratefully and reached out to drain half of his with a long swallow. When he set it down, he cast a glance at the door where Jordan had vanished.