The Delta Chain (50 page)

Hunter hung his
head.
‘
I don
’
t
know how I got so…sucked in. I didn
’
t
know about the human guinea pigs at first, Kate, I swear. It
wasn
’
t until later, when
I
’
d become so much a part of the project,
that Westmeyer came clean, told me there was a hidden lab
replicating my mice experiments, but on kids.
Kids
. Westmeyer kept
selling me on the greater good but I was never comfortable. He was
obsessed with his vision, ever since he saw the possibility back in
Vietnam.
’

‘Vietnam…?
’

‘He and some religious
weirdo went AWOL from their troop, disappeared in the jungle and
linked up with some Vietnamese religious cult.
’

‘He told you
this?
’

‘Yes. I know it
doesn
’
t sound like William, but this was
over 30 years ago. He was very young and they were crazy times.
Lots of those guys went troppo over there. William fell madly in
love with one of the villagers. She was deliberately drowned by the
Vietcong. Later, wandering the rivers, he and the other guy,
Vender, watched the crocs, and discussed the oxygen storing
capabilities of the creatures. William became obsessed with
discovering a way to make humans “breathe” underwater, apparently
for the memory of his great love. But mostly, I think, because of
his supersize ego. Later on, when he returned to America and a life
of scientific research, supported by his Army buddies, he
envisioned how DNA splicing could make it possible.
’

‘And that was this Delta
Chain?
’

‘Yes. William told me it
was out there, on the Mekong Delta, watching the crocs, that he was
prompted to think of the Delta Chain haemoglobin. And so it was a
chain of events from there, involving this Nexus mob, and men like
Erickson, Donnelly and Asquith that he first met in the delta. And
Vender. He runs some cult now. That
’
s
where the kids come from.
’

Kate shook her head, trying to
take it all in.

It explained the
Vietnamese name of Westmeyer
’
s
boat…

‘I thought I knew him,
thought he was a decent man. And to think A.B.C.S.
’
software helped him along.
’

‘Kate, please understand
that Westmeyer had me believing that the death of a few was worth
it for the thousands who die from drowning every year. Every year,
Kate…
’

‘I don
’
t believe I
’
m hearing this, I
can
’
t believe I
’
m actually listening to it. You turned a blind eye to
something horrendous because you preferred to keep your eye on the
prize. You wanted to be a part of one of the
century
’
s greatest scientific teams,
didn
’
t you? I knew you were a sleazebag
but how could you, how could anyone, do something like
this?
’

‘Kate…
’

‘Obsessed with some
glorious breakthrough. But what does it matter now?
’
She pushed herself to her feet. She was
exhausted. She didn
’
t think there was any
energy, any strength at all, left in her body. But she
wouldn
’
t sit here with Stephen. She
wouldn
’
t die in his company. That would
be the final insult.
‘
I
’
m going to climb out of here,
alone, or die trying.
’

Kate strained her neck, looking
up.

The shaft disappeared into
a dark, jumbled mass where it had been cut off at the ground level.
For some reason the bottom of the shaft, where they were trapped,
hadn
’
t been filled with the falling
debris. Part of the rear section must have still been standing. It
also explained the faint trickles of light seeping in from
somewhere above.

The cables had snapped and the
shaft walls looked too smooth for climbing. How could she
scale…?

No warning. Another deafening
boom and a sickening, shifting sensation as the shaft rocked and
the walls around them bent rapidly out of shape. A thick rain of
shrapnel and dust, blackening them like coalminers. Then, just as
quickly, stillness and silence.

Kate was on her knees, steadying
herself, trembling, when she heard a tortured screeching shriek of
a sound. She became aware of a dark shape filling the space above
her. She rolled herself as far as she could across the roof of the
car, collecting Hunter and rolling with him. Metal doors from
above, dislodged by the weight of collapsing layers of metal and
stone, struck the roof where Kate had been just seconds before.

Hunter groaned.
‘
Oh Christ. We
’
re
never going to get out of this…
’

‘Bullshit,
’
said Kate. She didn
’
t
know where the energy came from, but it came. It had always been
her best friend, her energy. Maybe today it was her life
saver.
‘
We can get through that lift
opening now.
’
She clambered over the
fallen elevator door. It was wedged now between the wall and the
car. She shimmied up it and into the gaping black hole it had left
behind.

And onto the sub-level.

‘There
’
s still some light filtering through.
’
Kate inched forward, Hunter right behind her. She was
looking at the ruin of what had once been a corridor. Now, with the
walls warped out of shape and sections of the ceiling caved in, it
was a multi-level obstacle course, most of it completely black,
water running on all sides like subterranean creeks.
‘
What was down here, Stephen?
’

‘A technician, maybe two,
would
’
ve been working down here. There
were labs, equipment, and a chamber with the crocodiles in covered
pits.
’
He couldn
’
t bring himself to include the girl he knew had been down
here.

‘And passageways like
this?
’

‘Yes. All leading to the
rear dock or the lift.
’

‘Adam
would
’
ve come across the technicians. But
what happened then?
’
Kate
’
s question was only meant
for herself. She didn
’
t want to face the
fact Adam was probably dead.

‘Kate, I
don
’
t know that anyone
would
’
ve survived-
’
Hunter was cut short by a crash as a slab of stone fell
nearby. It sprayed water all over them.

Kate was silent, her eyes
roaming the ruin as her eyes adjusted to the near dark. There were
only pinpricks of light showing through the rubble. How was anyone
going to find a way through this to Brian, further below, let alone
get him back out again? She felt so helpless…

‘We just keep pressing
forward. If there
’
s a way out we find
it.
’
She walked where she was able to
walk, and crawled where the spaces were too low or too tight for
walking. It was slow going, they were mostly feeling their way.
Light still filtered through at some points but was blocked out in
others. She tried not to think about crocodiles waiting in hidden,
watery recesses.

They came into a larger space.
Here was a shallow underground pool, littered with piles of
wreckage, a mass of electrical wires hanging like vines and wisps
of light seeping through from another passage further along.

A scream from somewhere in
this underground maze, echoing along stone walls. A girl? Kate
threw a glance back at Hunter. She heard him say,
‘
What the hell…
’
and
then she saw the rustle of movement behind him.

Seeing the fear etch into
her face, Hunter began to turn. The crocodile
’
s enormous body slammed into him from out of the darkness,
jagged teeth clamping deep into his waist and holding him vice-like
as though he was a doll. The creature rolled its body over and away
into the deeper water.

Behind it, another reptile
reared up from the same tunnel. Kate realised in an instant that
the dark texture of the tunnel walls was the perfect camouflage for
these creatures.

She turned and ran. She
didn
’
t intend crying out in terror but
she did, and the cry echoed along the cavern walls.

Recovered from the effects
of the drug, Costas, Barbara and Joey, cleared by the attending
paramedics, were heading for the police centre. They wanted to be
on hand for updates regarding Daniel
’
s
whereabouts. They were just a few blocks from the station when the
news program on the car radio gave the first, sketchy report that
an eco terrorist group had detonated a series of bombs at the
Institute. The report revealed that a local detective had been in
the building and was missing, along with an unidentified teenage
kidnap victim.

‘Lord, no! That has to be
Adam and Daniel.
’
Costas immediately
swung the car about and pressed his foot down harder on the
accelerator. The Institute was fifteen minutes away.

They arrived to a scene of total
pandemonium. Throngs of people and dozens of vehicles clogged the
roadway around the perimeter of the Institute. Costas parked a fair
way back along the road and the three of them hurried forward on
foot. Barbara held on tightly to Joey, following Costas, weaving
their way through the crowd of onlookers.

Sirens filled the air as rescue
vehicles, ambulances and fire trucks arrived. A helicopter swept in
low across the ruined building. Visibility was poor. Rain created a
fine mist beneath a sky blackened by storm clouds.

Costas recognised Eddie
Cochrane in the melee.
‘
Eddie!
’
Costas pressed forward, coming level with
him.
‘
Can you tell me
what
’
s happening?
’

‘Not much is going to
happen here for a while. Area
’
s too
unstable and the storm
’
s hitting. But
there are searchers out along the cliffs. Looking for Second World
War Coastwatch tunnels. Seems there could be people down on some
basement level and they
’
re looking for
another way in.
’

‘Then I
’
m going down there.
’

‘Look for Arthur Kirby.
He
’
ll be able to direct you.
’

Costas turned to face
Barbara and Joey. They were right behind him, huddling together as
the wind and the rain raged.
‘
Go back to
the car, get shelter-
’

‘Costas-
’

‘I
’
ll be fine. I need to help, but you-
’

Barbara cut across
him.
‘
Costas, please. You
can
’
t do everything for everyone. Joey
and I need you. With us.
’

He looked at the surrounding
activity, out at the rain swept coast beyond, then turned back to
Barbara and Joey. No need for words. He went forward, placing his
strong, comforting arms around the two of them and drawing them
close.

Then he led them out of the
rain.

Westmeyer sank back into
silence in the back of the car. His mind wandered; he began to feel
removed from the world around him. The destruction of his Institute
played on his mind. He was fleeing from the destruction, just as
he
’
d fled from the ravaged village on the
Mekong Delta so long ago…

He and Vender, wandering
aimlessly along the river for five days and five nights. Heat
rising like steam off the jungle as though in protest at the
slaughter of the villagers. The drone of mosquitoes whining in
their eardrums. William, sullen, depressed, mostly switched off
from the constant ramblings of Vender, who was running off at the
mouth more than ever.

On the third night,
haunting the river like ghosts, they
’
d
watched crocodiles gliding across the water, diving to hidden
lairs. Vender, who had a strange and detailed knowledge on a
diverse range of subjects, rambled on about the crocs:
‘
They breathe air. So ever wonder how they
survive for long periods underwater?
’
Vender never required a response to keep on talking.
‘
A particular genetic property in their blood
enables them to store more oxygen in their haemoglobin than other
creatures. Read it in some science mag a while ago.
’

Almost absent-mindedly
William had said:
‘
Mai and the others
could have survived if our blood had that same genetic
structure.
’
In the days that followed the
thought gripped him. Humans could train themselves to hold their
breaths for long periods
–
the island
pearl divers of the previous century had done that; Mai and some of
the village women had done the same thing.

But with the same oxygen-storing
capability in our blood as the crocodiles, much longer periods
would be possible. Drowning would literally become something of the
past.