Gargantua Page 8

  Now, over a decade later, he remembered that dog as the lizard cried in an almost identical manner.

  Shaking off the memories, Paul peered back into the viewfinder. The lizard had backed up against a large tree, and was thrashing about. Paul snapped another picture—

  —just as Jimmy got too close on his scooter. Three pictures in Paul’s roll chronicled the creature pulling one of its forelegs—no, arms—into a backhand motion; the arm slashing through the air right at Jimmy’s chest; and finally, Jimmy being thrown from his vehicle, blood flying in all directions from his thorax as the backhand sweep finished its arc.

  Stunned, Paul kept snapping photos, but now he was on autopilot. He just kept his lens aimed at the creature as Jack fired dart after dart into it.

  Just as the chief said, “Okay, that’s it, move in,” the creature gave out another yell and—with a dozen tranq darts protruding from its scaly hide—fell to the ground with an impact that rivaled the recent tremors.

  Paul hopped out of the jeep and moved in closer, as did Jack, the chief, and Mal.

  Suddenly, the creature reared its head and tail, and Paul leapt back involuntarily, his finger brushing against the camera button.

  The creature fell again to the ground, its beady eyes now closed. Paul sighed—the last picture in the roll would probably be of the top of one of the trees.

  Chief Movita ran toward Jimmy and knelt down beside him. “Mal, get Doctor Hart in here now.”

  Mal nodded and dashed off.

  The chief looked up angrily at Jack. “So glad you were able to bring it down unharmed.”

  “I—” Jack started.

  “Save it,” Joe said, rising and walking away.

  Hale put his hand on Jack’s shoulder. “You did the right thing, mate. Now we can study the thing properly.”

  “Yeah,” Jack said. Paul wondered what was going through the marine biologist’s head.

  Before anything else could happen, Brandon popped out from behind one of the bushes, crying, “Dad!” Paul blinked in surprise. Jack had been looking for his son all day. He and Hale had come into Paul’s office in search of Brandon that morning, but Paul hadn’t seen him. When Paul went to lunch at Manny’s, Tari said that Brandon had been in earlier, but she had no idea where the boy was at that point.

  “Brandon?” Jack said. “What’re you doing here?”

  “Uh, I, ah, saw everyone was running in here, so I wanted to see what happened.”

  The kid’s lying, Paul thought without hesitation. He knew that guilty look—he had it himself as a twelve-year-old when he lied to his parents.

  Based on the look on Jack’s face, the lie had gone as far over his head as Paul’s had to his parents. He seemed completely accepting of what Brandon said. Interesting—wonder what the kid’s been doing.

  Brandon looked over at the. prone creature. “What is that thing?”

  Jack pulled his son into an embrace. “You shouldn’t’ve come in here, Brandon, it was dangerous.”

  “I’m sorry, Dad, I didn’t—I mean—”

  “It’s okay,” Jack said, breaking the hug. “To answer your question, I have no idea what it is. What say we try to figure it out together?” He smiled.

  Brandon nodded, and smiled back.

  Well, they’re all one big happy family again, Paul thought as he rewound the film in his camera, but what about tall, green, and scary here?

  FIVE

  Derek Lawson had to admit that it was a good setup. At the direction of Hale and that American jackass Ellway, they had set up an oversized shark cage to house that thing they had captured the night before. It was hooked up to the pier and rigged it with buoys in such a way that it was part underwater, part above water.

  Derek stood with Kikko, Naru, and a bunch of other people near the pier. The three of them had missed the excitement, sadly. They were washing down the trawler—a Japanese tourist that they had taken on a fishing jaunt proved more prone to seasickness than she thought she would be—and by the time they found out that a nine-foot lizard was on the loose, it had already been brought down.

  Derek shook his head and looked at Kikko. “Thought I’d seen everything the sea could chuck up, but that thing is un-bloody-believable.”

  “What do you think they’ll do with it?”

  “Turn it into cash for themselves, most like,” Derek said with a snort.

  They were held back about twenty feet from the pier by Marc and Mal, two of the local cops. Derek didn’t know why they bothered. While everyone wanted to see it, nobody really wanted to get all that close to it.

  Of course, Derek noticed that Ellway wasn’t forced to stay back. He and Bateman were crouched on the pier next to the cage. Bateman’s presence made sense, him being Malau’s only real press and all, but what the hell was Ellway doing there? How did he rate?

  He voiced this question aloud to Marc, who said, “He’s the expert—he’s, y’know, a marine biologist. ’Sides, he’s the one that brought the sucker down.”

  Derek noticed Manny and Chief Movita coming through the police barricade, along with Hale and Ellway’s snot-nosed kid. Great, more bleedin’ outsiders getting special privileges. What the hell’s this island coming to, anyhow?

  He then fixed his gaze back on the caged lizard.

  What a magnificent creature it is, he thought. I could make a bundle off that thing. He smiled. The latest in a long line of fishermen from Matakana, New Zealand, Derek Lawson had relocated to Malau after a particularly messy divorce proceeding that resulted in his being required to make alimony payments that he had neither the interest nor the ability to make. Malau was sufficiently far away from Matakana that he didn’t have to worry about paying that witch Lucille, nor have to deal with those taxes he hadn’t gotten around to.

  Besides, here he got a certain amount of respect. In Matakana, he was just one of dozens of fishers. In Malau, he stood out.

  But now maybe it was time to move on to something better. He and Kikko and Naru had been talking for years about making enough money to open a restaurant on Fiji, but the honest truth was that they’d never manage it. Lawson Fishing Inc. did well enough to earn all three of them a living, but every time they thought they’d saved enough, some major repair to the boat would come up, or their taxes would be raised, or revenues would start slowing down, or the equipment would need to be replaced, or something.

  Right now, Malau was one of the South Seas’ better-kept secrets. It hadn’t become the major tourist attraction that other locales had become, rather remaining the favorite vacation spot of a comparatively small number of people from around the world. That kept the place a lot more civilized than most, but it also was one reason why Derek and the others would never have the kind of money they needed to implement the Fiji dream.

  Maybe it’s about time I change that, Derek thought. Make people start talking about Malau in the same breath that they talk about Fiji or Kalor or Tahiti. And make enough cash so that I can pay off the taxes and get that witch off my back. Maybe even open that restaurant some day down the line.

  The key, he knew, was that big lizard.

  He saw Doctor Hart approach the ever-growing collection of folks near the lizard, and Derek decided that, if they deserved a closer look, then dammit, so did he. He sidled up to Marc and whispered, “Hey, Marc, mind if I get a closer look at the thing?”

  “C’mon, Derek, you know the rules. Everyone except—”

  “Y’know, your kid’s been talkin’ about fishin’ lessons.”

  Marc frowned. “How’d you know about that?”

  Derek shrugged. “He asked me. Wanted to know how much the lessons’d cost.”

  Marc shook his head. “I told him we couldn’t afford it. I don’t want—”

  “You can afford it if it’s free,” he said. “All you gotta do is let me in closer.” He smiled. “C’mon, Marc, lemme get a gander at the thing. For the kid. Hm?”

  Marc stared at Derek for a minute, then sighed. “All ri
ght—but none of your bullshit, Derek. Free lessons, no ‘extras,’ got it?”

  “My word of honor, mate,” Derek said with a grin as he walked toward the pier.

  Paul Bateman had to admit, he was enjoying watching Jack fawn over the monster he had captured.

  Not that there was much to fawn over just at the moment. The creature was still somewhat groggy from the tranquilizers—it seemed to be moving in slow motion compared to the frightening speed with which it had ambulated the previous night. Paul had already taken several photographs of the thing in captivity, as well as a bunch while Hale and Ellway supervised the placing of the monster in the cage last night. If he spent the afternoon writing up the articles and developing the pictures, he figured his special big-lizard edition of the Weekly News would be out by tomorrow morning, if Kal came through.

  Of course, the primary question the monster’s presence raised was the same one that everyone on Malau had been asking for two days, one it behooved Paul to make the focus of his coverage. So he asked Jack, “Do you think this is what killed Dak and the two tourist girls?”

  “Probably,” Jack said. “I took a cast of its claws and teeth for Alyson to compare to Dak’s body. She’ll do that when she has a minute.”

  Paul nodded. Alyson’s first priority was treating Jimmy and the people who were injured on the beach. There certainly wasn’t a rush on checking the casts—it’s not like the monster was going anywhere.

  “In any case,” Jack continued, standing upright, “the big guy here is certainly strong enough. I fired enough tranquilizer darts to knock out a killer whale. Of course, its metabolism could be unbelievably slow—or its blood vessels constricted.”

  Also standing upright, and grinning, Paul said, “Or maybe it’s just one tough mother.”

  Returning the grin, Jack said, “Right.” He turned back to the creature. “Beautiful coloring, for a male. Superficially, it looks like a member of the order urodela—which includes about three hundred different species of salamanders.”

  Paul was startled by an Australian-accented voice from behind him, “How the hell did it get so big?” He turned to see Hale, along with Manny, Joe, and Brandon, approaching them from behind.

  Jack, for his part, didn’t seem at all startled, but simply answered the question: “There are salamanders that reach a length of six feet—but they’re exclusively aquatic. Terrestrial salamanders, or amphibious ones like this thing, are rarely longer than a few inches—and none has ever been observed walking on its hind legs, which is what makes this thing so unique.”

  “And dangerous,” Joe added.

  Paul sighed. Leave it to the chief to find the cloud in the silver lining.

  Jack looked like he was about to reply, but Manny came to the diplomatic rescue before the marine biologist had a chance to put his foot in it. “This poor creature does not seem capable of much harm at the moment.”

  Jack seemed content with that answer, and turned his attention back to the lizard. The chief, for his part, still looked angry, but said nothing more. Paul couldn’t entirely blame him, though the latest word was that Jimmy would survive. Still, as far as he’s concerned, the only thing that matters is that the big guy mauled one of his men.

  Brandon wandered closer to the cage, standing next to his father and in front of Paul. “Can’t you just turn him loose? Maybe he’ll go home.”

  Paul blinked in surprise at the question. Brandon hadn’t struck me as being that naïve before.

  “Maybe he can’t go home,” Jack said. “Maybe he came onto the island because he was having trouble surviving. We’ve never seen anything like him. He might be the last of his species—or one of a kind.”

  “What if—” Brandon hesitated. “What if he isn’t one of a kind? What if, like, another one came along? Then would you let ’em go?”

  Jack shook his head. “No. Certainly not right away. I wouldn’t be much of a scientist if I did that, Brandon. C’mon, you know the drill as well as I do. We’d need to find out what they are and where they come from.” He smiled. “If it’s a new species, maybe I can name it after you: a Brandonomadon.”

  That got a rise out of the kid, and he, too, smiled. Paul, though, was curious as to why Brandon was asking these questions—especially in light of what he said, and didn’t say, the previous night in the jungle. Methinks the boy knows more than he’s saying, Paul thought. Of course, it could just be twelve-year-old weirdness. Still, I’d better keep an eye on him.

  “That day,” Brandon said, “what I was trying to tell you—”

  “If there are more of these monsters,” Joe interrupted, having listened in on the conversation, “we must prepare a defense.”

  Brandon whirled on the chief. “What does that mean? Does that mean you’d kill ’em?” The boy sounded anguished, like Joe was talking about murdering the kid’s pet cat or something.

  Joe had the good grace to soften his expression when he replied, “I would do what was necessary for public safety.”

  “Dad,” Brandon said, turning back to his father, “you wouldn’t let ’em be killed, would you?”

  Jack hesitated, and spoke very slowly. “I’d do everything I could to prevent it. But it might be beyond my control.”

  Just then, Alyson approached. Paul took the fact that she had the time to leave the clinic as a good sign.

  “How’s Jimmy, Doctor?” Joe asked.

  “He’ll survive. He’s lost a lot of blood, but we had plenty of B-positive on hand, and a few donors for backup. I wouldn’t put him back on duty for a couple of weeks, but he should recover.”

  “Good,” Joe said, with a pointed look at Jack.

  “The others,” Alyson continued, “have only minor cuts and scrapes.” She turned to Jack. “I shipped the casts off to Kalor, so they can check it against Dak. I don’t have the equipment for a proper comparison here, though my gut tells me it’ll be a match.”

  Alyson then looked down at Brandon, who, Paul noticed, looked a bit distressed. All this forensic-evidence talk can’t be good for a twelve-year-old, Paul thought. Then again, when I was twelve, I would’ve thought it was cool, so what do I know?

  “You okay, Brandon?” Alyson asked with what Paul, to his surprise, would swear was a maternal tone.

  “I’m okay,” the boy assured her.

  “I been thinking,” said a voice from behind Paul. He turned to see Derek Lawson approaching the cage. Christ on a crutch, what did we do to deserve this? I thought the chief’s guys were supposed to keep the riffraff away from the lizard.

  Derek continued: “We could build a nice little enclosure right over there.” He pointed to a spot near the pier on the edge of the beach. “Charge five dollars for adults, children under twelve half-price . . .”

  I don’t believe this, Paul thought. He’s already got the amusement park built in his head. “Big-Lizard Land.”

  Jack looked at Derek with something like revulsion. “A freak show isn’t really what I had in mind.”

  Derek laughed derisively. “What you had in mind? It’s all about you again, innit, mate?”

  “Look,” Jack said angrily, “no freak show. Got it?”

  Paul had only known Jack Ellway for a couple of days, but the impression he had gotten was of an even-tempered, if occasionally absent-minded, man. He’d only gotten angry twice that Paul had seen—both times at the instigation of Derek Lawson. That’s our boy, he thought, always bringing out the best in people.

  For his part, Derek turned to Manny. “What’s going on here, mates? The creature wandered onto our island. We should be calling the shots.”

  “Putting it in your terms, Derek,” Paul said, “Jack’s the guy who bagged the thing. He’s got the claim. Kinda like that huge swordfish you got last year that you insisted on hanging on your wall instead of selling to Manny.”

  If Derek had a reaction to Paul’s dig, he didn’t show it, much to Paul’s disappointment. Instead, the fisherman turned to the president. “C’mon, Manny, e
xercise some authority. Think about tourism.”

  Manny was his usual phlegmatic self as he calmly responded. “I shall exercise moral authority and think of this creature and what is best for the people of this island. As long as public safety is not an issue, I will defer to the scientists.”

  This time, Derek’s facial expression did change—to one of disgust. He turned and walked off, pausing to crouch down on the pier next to the cage. “I could’ve made you famous.”

  Then—in one of those moments that Paul would spend the rest of his life regretting that it happened too fast for him to capture it on film—the lizard made a lunge toward Derek, crashing futilely against the bars of the cage. Derek jumped back, startled, tried to stand up, lost his balance, and fell backward off the pier and into the ocean.

  Joe, kind-hearted person that he was, went over to help Derek out of the water, to the tune of the laughter of the assembled multitudes. Not surprisingly, Derek refused the help, clambering out of the shallow water on his own and stomping off toward his trawler, on which he also lived.

  “By the way, Jack,” Hale said after everyone’s guffaws at Derek’s expense had died down, “I got those satellite prints in from the Institute. Now that we got somethin’ a little better to go on . . .” He trailed off.

  “Right,” Jack said.

  The wheels started turning in Paul’s head. “Listen, Jack, I was hoping to talk to you guys about this for the special edition of the paper I’m doing.” Now he’s going to tell me that he and Hale are too busy.

  “I’m sorry Paul, but Doctor Hale and I have a lot of work to do, and—”

  Paul held up a hand. “It’s okay, I kinda figured that. How’s about I talk to Brandon instead?” He turned to the boy. “It’ll give you a chance to see how an actual newspaper works.”

  Hale grinned. “How an actual small-town newspaper run by one bloke works, anyhow.”

  Shrugging, Paul said, “Well, yeah. And it’ll give me a chance to get some factoids for the paper without disturbing your Dad from his work.”

  “Whaddaya say, Brandon?” Jack said. “This is the sort of thing scientists tend to fob off on their assistants anyhow.”