80 below
1
Pr Lindon sat nervously in his seat, contemplating in his mind the horrors that might be bestowed upon him. For just one tiny mistake, he could be killed, or be turned into a lab rat, or worse still, have his memory wiped. Pr. Lindon tried to put these insane thoughts out of his head. He tried to imagine that the Colonel would have mercy on him. He tried to imagine the Colonel understanding that the whole thing had been just one huge mistake. Then, to Lindon’s surprise, Pr. Munster, one of his colleagues, strolled in completely calm and relaxed. This gave Pr. Lindon hope. He stood up to shake hands with his fellow Professor but Munster just waved his hand implying for Lindon to sit back down.
“Afternoon Pr. Munster!” greeted Lindon a little too loudly trying not to sound nervous. Pr. Munster looked Lindon in the eye and sighed.
“Do you understand the seriousness of what you’ve done? Our entire system is in danger of being infiltrated! And you know what happens if people find out about us! They start to talk and all of a sudden they don’t trust the government anymore!” Munster slammed his fist on the table.
So much for being calm thought Lindon. He adjusted his tie and realized that he was starting to sweat in uncomfortable places.
“Uh…..Well…You see Mu Mun Munster”, he stammered, “It was an honest mistake! A typical system malfunction. Everything was set up and it looked like such a beneficial program and—“Pr. Munster held up his hand.
“You are a true disgrace Lindon! The Colonel was so upset he couldn’t even come near you. Did it ever occur to you to clear it with one of us FIRST!?” Pr. Munster nearly shouted, as he lost his temper.
Lindon shook his head, his eyes growing wide like a scared young child’s.
“We were planning on an immediate memory wipe and sending you back to land….” Pr. Lindon gulped. “But we then we realized we needed you for one more assignment.”
“What would that be?” asked Lindon.
“Disposing of the children.” said Pr. Munster darkly. A look of sheer terror spread across Pr. Lindon’s face.
“B-B-But can’t we just cancel the program!”
“Well we could have if you hadn’t waited until one week before the program was to begin to tell us that you had screwed up royally!”
Pr. Lindon recalled this event. It happened during his lunch break, as most things did, when he had casually mentioned how excited he was about the upcoming Young Oceanographer’s Expedition. Pr. J, who worked in the research and development department, had nearly regurgitated his cup of coffee. “The WHAT?” he had shouted.
“That was an honest mistake…” began Lindon, sounding like a tape recorder repeating the same excuse, but Munster held up his hand again.
“Don’t bore me with your ignorant chatter.” He pulled a vanilla envelope from his inside jacket pocket and pushed it toward Pr. Lindon.
“What’s this?” asked Lindon.
“Information on the children. Two fourteen year olds, one male one female. Your mission is to get rid of them—I don’t care how as long as their dead—and we will tell everyone that the submarine crashed. Do you understand or should I write it down?” scoffed Pr. Munster. Pr. Lindon was about to ask how to go about killing such young children but decided against it. He did not want to make himself look like an idiot twice.
“I understand”, he murmured.
He looked down at the envelope. Paper clipped to it was pictures of two teenagers. School Pictures thought Lindon. Not just because those were probably the only one’s Munster could legally get his hands on, but also because of how awkward the kids looked. He remembered taking school pictures. They often included him sweating monstrously.
“Good. Be ready to meet them at the surface on Monday. You will receive further detail as soon as possible. In the meant time, stay away form the experimental files.” Lindon nodded trying to take the remark like a man but felt his face going red anyway. Pr. Munster got up from the table and was about to walk out when he turned back and said
“Oh, by the way, lay off the fries will you? We can only hold a certain amount of weight on this thing” and he left through the sliding metal doors. Pr. Lindon looked down at his ever growing stomach. Maybe all the sweating he had been doing lately would help him lose a few pounds.
Part I: The expedition
2
Craig was the type of kid who was only good at one thing and was a nuisance for anyone doing something else. For instance, when his mom asked him to straighten up his room he swept old potato chip bags under a rug, threw the bed sheet over the pillows and said he was done. That was not satisfactory to his mother, but it was enough to keep Craig happy. Or the time his father asked him to help him think of a catchy slogan for banana smoothies (his dad owned a smoothie store: Sydney’s Smoothie and Snax) Craig simply said, “Smoothies with bits of banana are good to eat!”, but his father corrected him and said that you drink smoothies but then Craig said that was not true because you have to chew bananas therefore making a banana smoothie something that you eat.
“Thanks for the help son”, grunted his father.
“Any time pops!” Craig had replied, not catching the hint of sarcasm in his father’s voice. To sum things up, Craig was not creative or organized but he was possibly the youngest scientific genius since Einstein. Well, maybe just a self-proclaimed genius. Craig was a science wiz and was especially interested in the least explored part of our planet, the ocean. He planned on growing up to become an oceanographer. This is why he was so thrilled to hear that the government was accepting teen applicants from the ages 13-17 to partake on a deep sea diving expedition. It was only to be for the most brilliant minds across the country that showed true promise in oceanography.
Craig’s Science teacher, and possibly most favorite adult in the world, notified him right away about the program and asked him if he was interested.
As if he had to ask.
Each applicant would have to right a report on the ocean explaining what allowed the creatures of the sea to withstand amazing water pressure, and how those types of genes could benefit humans. Craig had gone home and started typing write away. His brain was like an encyclopedia that kept growing. He did not need to go research things from a text book because it was all right inside his head. Not that Craig let this stuff go to his head (so to speak), he understood that he was a cut above the rest with most things, but he was very humble about it. He never over exaggerated his brainy-ness, and everybody treated him that way. In fact, Craig was ignored for the most part at school. He had a few friends here and there, but Craig much more preferred his own universe. A realm which no one could really penetrate and he liked it that way.
He revised and reread his paper everyday until it was due to be sent. He did not want this amazing opportunity to slip away from him because he had forgotten to add a period. Craig was not very good at grammar or spelling so he asked his English teacher to proofread it about a billion times before she finally told him it was a perfect essay and he had nothing to worry about. The essay ended up being 11 pages total. The letter his science teacher had received said that the essay should describe in detail what each contestant would plan to learn on this trip, what new creatures they might see…etc. His science teacher, Mr. Gregor, said he was a shoe-in.
Mr. Gregor told him it would take anywhere form 8 to 10 weeks before he found out whether he had been chosen or not. During that time period, it was hard for Craig to concentrate on anything. Even science. He received a ninety-three percent on one exam and Mr. Gregor asked him if he was okay. Craig said he was fine. He just could not keep his mind off of the contest. For awhile, he thought about all the fun things he would get to experience. He dreamed about getting a close up view of all the fantastical beings that coexisted just below the sea. Maybe, if he was lucky, he would discover a new creature! One that no one had ever seen before. What if they let him name it? I mean, after all if he did discover it, he should receive some credit? It would be Craig’s first huge discovery. He would call it the Craig Fish. Imagine, being able to put that on his college application!
Won 1st place in 7th grade spelling be
Graduated Valedictorian
Discovered a new species of fish
“I can’t even begin to list all of the people I have to thank for becoming the youngest scientist to discover a new species of fish Oprah! What’s that? Oh yes of course! The money I have received from the government for further research will be set aside for my post-college experiments. Oh the rest of it? Yes, it’s true, I will be donating it to the American Cancer Society,” Craig had droned on to himself one day, staring into his bedroom mirror. He had not seen his little sister staring at him from the doorway.
“Mom!” she had hollered down the hall. “Craig’s spazzing out, again!”
After this experience, Craig decided that if he was stuck with a kid older then him he would act mature and ask engrossing questions. He had an uncanny ability to make a fool of himself by talking on and on and on. If he was with a rich kid he would play it cool and pretend he did this all the time on his father’s private submarine , which in real life did not exist. Although his dad did have an album with the Beatles’ yellow submarine on it. Craig and his family were no poor, his father owned the local smoothie shop, and his Mom had a small patching service that she kept only because her family’s women had kept it going for years. But it was simple, and Craig’s parents were very conservative. They believed in saving all their extra money. Both he and his siblings had all kinds of savings for their future. Plus, any extra money after that went to Craig’s older brother Michael who still lived at their house.
Later Craig began to worry. What if some poor kid in Louisiana whose house had been destroyed in Hurricane Katrina sent in his application and included some heartwarming story about how he watched his parents die right before his eyes and how he had traveled for miles without food or water? That would defiantly move somebody to choose him/her. Or maybe some famous movie star’s kid had applied and offered the government a ton of money to choose him/her to go on the expedition. Or maybe the child or grandchild of some former president or government authority had applied! Craig had absolutely no famous or executive ties whatsoever. The most famous person he knew was his dad, because he had appeared in those local smoothie commercials, but that was it.
Suddenly it seemed as though all his effort had been for nothing. He was not going to be chosen. Hec, he was not even going to be considered. This had all just been a colossal waste of time. Craig was not going to be an oceanographer. He was just going to be that science geek from middle school who had never kissed a girl. He could picture himself in 15 years, sitting behind a desk in his own dusty apartment, a bag of potato chips at his side wearing a dirty old t-shirt that barely contained his super-sized belly, writing boring literature on subtopics no one had even heard of.
So those last few weeks, Craig spent moping and sighing. His mother asked what was wrong but he just shook his head saying “You wouldn’t understand”. His mother didn’t argue. She had given up trying to understand Craig. But, you didn’t have to understand people to love them right?
Then, one day when he came home from school in the same sorrowful mood, his mother told him some mail had arrived for him. As soon as she said that, a tiny microscopic tinge of hope shined inside of Craig that maybe that piece of mail was from the Young Oceanographer sea expedition’s corporation. But just a tiny tinge. That tinge grew about ten times larger when he saw the presidential seal on the letter. He grabbed it, pressing his thumbs into the sides, and before his mother could stop him, he tore open the envelope and read the letter that was written on fancy stationery. He only needed to read the first two lines to know what it was for. It read:
Dear Craig Praxton,
We are delighted to inform you that you have been chosen to embark on a deep sea expedition for the Young Oceanographer’s program….
After reading that, Craig dropped the letter and started jumping up and down and punching the air screaming YES! YES! YES! Suddenly the images of his future changed. Craig was a tall, handsome, scientist at some lab in Harvard or one of those prestigious colleges, with one of those suave and mature looking chins coming up with a cure for the common cold.
His mom was not so excited.
“Craig! Look what you have done! Your first letter from the government and you tear it up into pieces! And don’t just drop your letter on the ground! Oh look at what you’ve done! Now it’s all crinkled. Sometimes Craig I just don’t know…” Craig let his mother continue to nag about any and everything. He was so overwhelmed with joy nothing else mattered. Craig was beside himself, even more so than usual. He was one of only two people in the whole country to be selected. He was THE one. What if his school made an announcement? Everyone would know of his success. Kids would come up to HIM and ask questions. Craig smiled to himself and thought for sure that this was the happiest day of his life.
3
Anne was in love with sharks. It was always strange to people that a girl like her, shy and timid, and refined would be so fascinated with creatures perceived so ferociously. Even though Anne was 14 she picked up tons of shark picture books just to study the photographs. She believed, despite what most said that sharks were simply misunderstood creatures. She would get annoyed when people talked about sharks killing and biting and leaving people maimed. She argued that sharks only killed humans out of fear. They did not kill for food, for must humans were way out of their diet. But no one believed her. They just laughed and carried on.
Not that Anne was a social outcast. Anne was not rich but she was upper-middle class. She wore nice clothes and her parents rode nice cars. Not Lamborghini and Luis Vutton nice, but Lexus and J. Crew. So naturally she gravitated some attention, whether she wanted it or not.
Anne’s love of sharks was not the only factor that drew her to enter the Young Oceanographer competition. Her Mother was always pushing her to do extra-curricular activities, enter competitions, volunteer for community service.
“It’ll look good on your resume”, she always said. Sometimes Anne questioned how important all of that was. What would all that stuff be for after she graduated from high school and college? Which credentials would she need for her final resume?
People always said Anne thought too much, over analyzed. She assumed that was the reason for her overly philosophical reasoning on the whole resume thing.
Anyway, she was not a particularly great student. She made A’s and B’s and kept to herself during class, so her science teacher was surprised to find her at his desk staring at the entry forms. Anne wrote her essay on how she found the creatures of the deep to be the most undervalued animals. She wrote passionately about how there should be a greater focus on the study of newly discovered animals, and how she hoped to be breathtakingly close to sharks, and how amazing some of their abilities were.
Anne always had her nose in books so she knew what an essay was supposed to sound like. Her science teacher, Mr. Felid, was surprised that she had such fresh ideas. Anne entered the contest thinking that it would be nice if she received some sort of top secret government information on new shark species, she did not expect to win anything. But, at the very least she would be able to say that her teacher had chosen her essay above anyone else’s in the school. That was an accomplishment right?
She was surprised when her mom, almost overflowing with excitement, handed her an envelope with a government seal as she came home one day from school. Anne looked at it strangely, then she looked at her mom who gave her an Open it already! Look. It was then that she realized who this must have come from.
Anne slowly ran her thumb underneath the envelope flap and pulled out one of the folded messages inside. She flipped it open and her eyes flew to the only important words on the page: Young Oceanographer and We are delighted to accept.
Anne smiled widely and her Mom leaped in the air and clapped and cheered.
“ANNE! Why didn’t you tell me you were entering a contest like that! OOOH I am sooo proud of you! We have so many things to prepare. Oh this is going to look so good on your resume!”
Anne’s Mother’s words flew right out of her ears. The only thing she could think about was sharks. She was going to be getting first hand encounters with REAL sharks. This was the happiest day of Anne’s life!
4
Craig had never been to Miami so naturally he was excited to find that the submarine was docked there. He was also excited to be on an airplane. Sure, he had been on one before but for Craig, seeing the whole world so tiny beneath him, was always exhilarating.
The only downside was that the program had covered all the expenses. Including air fare for a maximum of 4 additional family members. Which meant this was going to become a family affair.
Oh Joy, Craig had thought upon reading that section of the letter.
Craig’s dad could not make the trip to Florida because he had to attend some smoothie conference in New York. So, that left Craig’s mom, his 7 year old kid-sister Ashlin, and his 19 year old brother Michael. What a joy.
Craig pressed his face against the glass leaving considerable smudges against its polished surface.
“Wow,” he breathed, fogging up the window. “This is amazing…all those houses and people so tiny…”
“Craig!” his mother whispered sharply. “Would you cut that out? You’re leaving grease stains all over the window”.
Craig peeled his face away with a faint suction sound. (That just goes to show how long he had been sitting like that). His face was red, and his lips and nose tingled.
Craig and his family were sitting in the first class section of South West Airlines, reclining in leather seats. That was why Mrs. Praxton was so finicky about Craig smudging the windows. They were surrounded by successful, classy people with pinstriped suits, golden lapels, Gucci suitcases, Prada glasses. Naturally, Craig’s goofy family of four did not belong in such a slick place, but Craig’s mom did not want people to notice. She had forced everyone into wearing their stiff, starchy, Easter clothes for the entire flight.
Craig’s sister Ashlin sat across from him in their four-seater.
“Yea Craig! Don’t be so im-ma-ture!” snarled Ashlin. Craig often insulted her sister when she grew irksome by saying “Ashlin you’re so immature”.
Now the tables were being turned on him.
“You don’t even know what that means!” he retorted.
“Yea huh.” Ashlin argued pursing her lips.
“Oh yea? Prove it!”
“Would you two stop it?” Mrs. Praxton intervened.
“More champagne Madam?” asked a handsome flight attendant with a Brazilian accent.
“Yes that sounds lovely”, replied Mrs. Praxton in her fake-snooty-voice.
“I’ll have some too”, perked up Ashlin. The flight attendant laughed but Mrs. Praxton shot Ashlin a stop embarrassing me look.
Michael abruptly looked up from the book he had previously been absorbed in: Total Control.
“Ashlin, you are not of legal drinking age. Champagne is an alcoholic beverage that, for health reasons, is prohibited for persons under the age of 21 in America.”
Show off, thought Craig.
The man smiled, a bit reluctantly and said, “I have something special for the little one. I’ll be right back.” he winked at Ashlin.
The exotic man returned a few moments later with a cocktail glass filled with a red liquid. “We call it the Shirley Temple.” He said nodding toward Mrs. Praxton. “She was a lot like you”. He handed the drink to Ashlin, who took a sip, and a wide grin spread over face.
“Why thank-you sir”, she said, mimicking her Mother’s fake-snooty-voice.
She pushed a pink $50 bill from her Barbie cash register that she had stowed away in her crayon pink purse, into the flight attendant’s hand saying “Keep the change.”
The man smiled again but Craig, Michael, and Mrs. Praxton just rolled their eyes.
“What?” whined Ashlin.
“Thank-you”, said the flight attendant in his swooning accent, and he walked over to the next row.
All the while Craig had a bit of an eerie feeling. As though, someone was watching him. He constantly felt the hairs on his back tingle with excitement and arousal. His eyes kept returning to a man dressed all in black. Craig couldn’t really get a good look at him because his face was mostly covered by a pair of tinted black sunglasses. He tried to shake it off but it was hard. He just knew something was not right with that man. He could feel it.
But Craig did not want that uncomfortable curiosity to ruin his good time. He resumed pressing his face against the window for the remainder of the flight. His mother gave up trying to change his mind.
Anne’s Mother was not a fan of flying at all. She felt that it was overpriced and dangerous. So, needless to say, Anne had not done much flying. Only once in her life in fact, for a funeral in California. It had been so long ago she barley remembered the trip at all. The most vivid memory she had was of one friendly flight attendant promising to give her some honorary pilot wings and herself imagining real, fluffy angel’s wings being attached to her back so that she could fly alongside the plane.
Imagine her disappointment when she was handed a golden pin in the shape of wings.
Anne had been to Miami before, and she was excited to return. The gentle churning of the ocean was soothing to her.
She was sitting with her family in a four-seater, similar to the one Craig and his family were using. Except, of course, they were on completely different planes.
Anne was fairly still during the flight. She did not experience the uneasy feeling of being watched until they landed at the Miami International airport.
Anne had separated from her mother, father, and little sister Eva to use the bathroom. Her Mom did not believe in using the Airplane bathrooms so Anne was anxious to go.
She noticed the man in dark shades watching her as she made her way to the bathroom. Anne could see him trailing her out of the corner of her eye. He was a healthy distance away so she had no reason to believe he was not just taking a leak himself, but still. There was something about him.
Then again, she could just be imaging all of this. There were tons of people around…
Considering this was an international airport.
Anne finished her business and when she left the bathroom there was no sight of the man-in-black.
She reunited with her family and they went down towards the front doors collecting their luggage and looking for their ride.
There was supposed to be a representative waiting for them at the door with a stretch limo to “accommodate both of the families,” the letter had read. The letter she had received was long and thick with pages of information and liability wavers to be signed. She remembered the uneasy look on her Mother’s face. Anne’s Mother and Father had sat down at the kitchen table together one night and carefully read through all of the information before signing a single thing, just to make sure they were not caught in some sort of scam.
Eva grew impatient standing around the busy lobby, fidgeting, and fussing about. She was barley two and her attention-span for standing around doing nothing was very low.
She began whining.
“Shhh”, cooed Anne’s mother. “Just a little longer Eva…Honey when exactly is this representative supposed to be meeting us?” she asked turning to Anne’s father.
He checked his watch.
“Three thirty…it’s three forty now.” Anne’s Mother stood on tiptoe trying to peer over the milling crowds to find their escort.
“Oh there he is!” she said gesturing to a tall, thin man wearing one of those Hawaiian button down shirts and tan cargo pants. He was holding a sign that said “Young Oceanographers” Aside from his outfit being out of place in general, there was a limo driver’s hat perched awkwardly atop his thinning head of hair.
“Looks like the other folks are already there,” noted Anne’s father. They made their way over to the small group of people.
“Hi!” said the man smiling in a creepy way when Anne’s family approached. “You must be the Woods family!” he said. The man’s voice was a cross between a game show host and one of those people at carnivals that guess your weight. He firmly shook Anne’s father’s hand and then bent down to Anne, which was totally unnecessary because Anne was a head taller than him.
“And you must be Anne.” he cooed. He said her name in the same way the fake Santa Clause’s in the mall did to the little children who climbed onto their laps.
Ho, ho, ho.
Anne nodded politely trying to look away from the strange man’s gaze.
“Nice to meet you”, he winked. “I bet you’re excited for this trip huh? Trust me, its going to change your life. Forever.”
Anne blinked. The way he said those last words made her stomach twinge a bit. Change your life forever What was that supposed to mean?
“Well now that everyone’s here allow me to introduce myself. I’m Bob Fenermen, spokesmen for YOA, and I would like to extend a warm welcome from all of us to you”, he said gesturing towards the two families.
Anne felt like she should applaud the man after his overdone introduction but thought better of it.
“Now,” he continued. “I’m going to pull the limo around front. Until then, Praxtons’ meet Woods’ and Woods’ meet Praxtons’!” He spread his arms wide as if to signal that it was okay to talk.
It worked.
Mrs. Wood’s shook hands with Mrs. Praxton. Mr. Woods shook hands with Michael. Even Eva and Ashlin were sizing each other up. Craig seemed to be the only person completely uninterested in being social. He seemed intent on avoiding Anne’s gaze, looking at every other possible thing in the room.
Anne was slightly hurt and extremely offended. Did he think he was too good to talk to her? Fine. She could be that way too.
Craig was not trying to offend Anne. He felt the exact opposite of too-good-to talk to her. He felt that he was not good enough. Here was this gorgeous family, nice clothes, and clean-shaven. They looked like they had it all together like they should be on the cover of Good Housekeeping. Craig and his family, they looked shabby and out of place. He felt he would only embarrass himself by talking to people so beautiful and classy. Besides, Craig never had any luck talking to girls, especially nice looking ones. It always blew up in his face.
So he stayed quiet.
In a few moments Bob pulled up to the curb near the entrance to the airport and honked his horn.
The two families piled into the limousine. It was larger and more hi-tech than they would have expected. There were two sections, separated by a window that was covered with a black sheet.
Craig immediately hopped up front so that he could annoy Bob with questions about the trip. His family followed and the Wood’s sat in the back where they had more room. Both sections had miniscule camera lenses popping up from the cup holders. Anne found this a bit strange but did not say anything. Everything about this trip is strange, she decided.
“So Mr. Fenermen,” Craig began. “Are you going to be one of the scientists on the expedition? Because I’m really curious to know about the type of vessel we’ll be transported in. I mean I know there was a little mention of it in the letter but-”
“Hold that thought Craig”, Bob cut in. Craig noticed, upon closer observance, that Bob’s hat had a little mouthpiece extending from the side.
“Uh-huh. Oh yea, their both here.” he spoke to the invisible person. He laughed. Then he turned to face the families and turned on his game show host voice “Is everybody all strapped up and ready?”
The Praxton’s nodded and Mr. Wood’s said “Yes sir!”
“Alrighty then. Hold on tight ‘cause awaaay we go!” he cheered.
5
They road stealthily along the highways and byways of Miami. Throughout the trip, Craig could be heard posing inquiry after inquiry about the most seemingly unrelated topics.
Unfortunately, Bob was not one of the Scientists. He was truly just a Limo driver.
This disappointed Craig. He had a thirst for knowledge and Bob just couldn’t quench it.
Instead, Bob would smile and ask the kids generic questions about how they liked school and if there were any improvements that they thought needed to be made in the public school system.
To everyone’s surprise though, Bob did not pull into a docking station at the edge of the beach. Instead they drove down a forest road towards what seemed like the middle of nowhere.
Anne’s Dad piped up immediately, slightly unnerved by the lack of civilization in their path. “Excuse me uhh…Mr. Fenermen?”
“That’s my name, driving’s my game!” Bob cheered.
“Right. Where exactly are we headed Mr. Fenermen?”
Bob smiled. “Why to the docking station of course.”
“But wouldn’t the docking station be on the beach?” Mr. Woods asked.
“Well I’m sure I wouldn’t know Mr. Woods”, Bob replied cheerily without missing a beat.
“Why is that sir”, Mr. Woods pressed on.
“Well, I’m just the limo driver,” And he smiled widely.
If Mr. Woods could see, he would have smacked the grin right off of the Man’s face.
He was growing annoyed now. He already felt uncomfortable about all of this. For one thing he was not always trustworthy of these government programs. He was aware that this could be an elaborate con, but the tickets had been legit, and was first class after all. Plus this man could not take 7 people down by himself. Unless they were going to a place with more people. But then again, Mr. Woods knew he could put up a pretty good fight.
He had only consented to this expedition because Anne had been excited about it. He knew that his daughter was entranced by sharks as strange as it may seem, but he didn’t like the thought of her being miles and miles away in a submarine with only to other people that she did not know, and he had no way of reaching her. It wasn’t like he could just go down to Rent-A-Sub and sail away. So he kept his guard on, not taking his eyes off those cameras in the cup holders.
Mrs. Praxton was much less suspicious of the whole ordeal. She grew up in a small town ,was married in small town, and was raising her family in a small town and she believed in trusting the good of mankind. So, yes, she thought it was a bit out of the ordinary that they were taking a forest route to get to a beach destination but only a bit. After all she was not the professional here.
The limo pulled up to what at first looked like a quarantine zone. It was surrounded on all sides by a tall electric barbed wire fence. There was gate in the very front guarded by two extremely bulky, thick necked, men in buzz cuts armed with AK 47s.
Behind them stood a long wooden building that looked more like a shack than a high security government authority. Th roof was patched and worn, it was so brown and banged up it almost blended in with the trees as if they had designed it that way.
“Well here’s our stop,” Bob announced in his game-show host voice.
“Is this right?” asks Mr. Woods, peering at the buff body guards.
“As right as my right hand Mr. Woods.” Bob stepped out of the car and headed towards the trunk to remove luggage. Everyone else stepped out silently staring at the guards. The strong men seemed unfazed, in fact they didn’t even attempt to recognize the presence of the two families. Behind their dark sunglasses no one could no what they were feeling.
Fear? Boredom? Anxiety? Stress?
Mr. Fenermen walked up to he hulking men casually. “Harry, Bill” he said smiling. The men nodded.
“These are the winners of the YOA competition.”
One guard asked, “All of them?”
“Well the rest are just their families.”
The men exchanged a long glance as if trying to decide if it was safe to let the relatives through.
“Don’t worry, their all unarmed.” Bob offered.
The guards nodded again and the one on the left unlocked the gate connected to the barbed wire fence they were guarding.
“Thank-you very much,” Bob smiled cheerily.
The families filed in, Mrs. Woods tightening her grip on Eva as she watched the lightning electrical sparks dance off of the fence.
The entered the shack and were shocked to find that the inside was the exact opposite of the out. It was stark chrome, with modern technology you would see in sci-fi movies.
Bob casually nodded to a woman sitting behind a desk as they walked towards another door at the back. Bob pulled it open, and behind it was a white room with two white couches covered in those thin white papers they had at doctor’s offices. A man in a white coat came out without a word and pulled on a pair of latex gloves.
“Craig, Anne, this is Dr. Schenlick. He will be giving you some injections but do not be alarmed, they will aid in helping your bodies adjust to the water pressure and some other sciencey stuff,” said Bob grinning.
“What exactly do you mean by Sciencey stuff?” Asked Anne’s mother in her no-joke- tone. “I don’t want my child to be injected with anything unless it’s absolutely necessary.”
Anne felt a little embarrassed that her mother was making such a scene but that was typical behavior for her when it came to things like this.
“Look ma’am, I’m just the limo driver. I apologize if I cannot answer any of your questions but I was just instructed to get you here and make sure that your kids got these shots. I think they should have them, just to be safe.”
Mr. and Mrs. Woods did not look impressed. “Well can’t he explain this to us?” asked Mr. Woods.
“Dr. Schenlick? Of course not, he doesn’t speak a word of English,” explained Bob laughing.
Anne’s Mom looked offended, and was about to protest when Anne stopped her.
“It’s alright Mom,” is what she said, but her eyes clearly read Please don’t embarrass me.
“Well I suppose that’ll be alright,” Mrs. Woods grumbled.
“Good!” cheered Mr. Fenermen. He nodded to Schenlick who tested his syringes and turned to Anne.
Ladies first, she thought.
He felt around her arm for a good injection site, then squeezed the top of the syringe. Anne winced and almost wanted to cry out as the needle went in. It stung ferociously.
“Ow,” she whimpered silently.
Schenlick moved on to Craig who, despite what Fenermen sad, tried to communicate with the doctor.
“Are you German? Because you name sounds German, maybe Russian, but who am I to judge by names right? I mean, you could Native American and Schenlick could be the name of some ancient on discovered tribe. Are you native American? Of course if you were I’d think you spoke English, but then again if you are Native American but just didn’t grow up here I can understand.”
Schenlick looked at Craig the same way Anne had when he had started in on Fenermen, complete shock.
“Well anyway, I was just wondering. I speak a little bit of German you know so maybe I would get the idea of what you were putting in our blood. Guten tag? Sprechen sie Deustch? No? Well alright. I don’t much Native American since every tribe was a little bit different but—YOUCH! Boy did that hurt, almost as bad as my meningitis shot. Have you ever given one of those before? They really sting. But you know what’s weird, the pain went away right after the injection. But with my booster shot, I didn’t feel a thing until like twenty minutes later and my arm actually felt numb! Have you ever done any research on that?”
Schenlick stared at Craig with a blank expression. Anne thought she almost saw him turn his head ever so slightly, but it must have been a trick of the light. He didn’t speak any English right?
“Mama, I don’t want a shot, it hurts!” Whined Eva, burying her head into her Mother’s chest as baby’s do.
“Don’t worry baby that shot’s only for Anne and the other little boy.”
Little boy? Thought Craig feeling offended. He was most defiantly not a little boy. He was fourteen years old, going on fifteen, and he was 5’9 and muscular. Little was the last adjective to describe him.
Craig did not understand Mrs. Wood’s reasoning like Anne did. In her mother’s mind, anyone who wasn’t grown, was little. And grown could be as young as fifteen or as old as 36.
“Hope old Schnelly here didn’t hurt you guys too much,” grinned Bob. Now if you’ll follow me, we will proceed to the underground docking station where we will have to say our good byes.” Bob made a fake sad face. “It was so nice getting to know you guys.”
Anne and Craig wished they could say the same.
6
Pr. Lindon paced the main hall of the docking station. It was a modern style space with a high ceiling and sliding metal doors separating the outside from the in. The main hall was an all white room with a few pieces of ‘abstract’ modern furniture in funky colors, and the tiny reception desk. Behind that there was another set of metal doors that opened up to the hangar that led to the sub.
Still trying to think of ways to get rid of the children, sweat dripped down the Professor’s face and dampened the palms of his hands. There was always the easy way. Take the nine mm and call it a day. But he knew he would not have the guts to do that. Not to children. Then there was always the poison route. He could slip a few drops in their food and that would create a lot less mess. But what if the kids could smell poison? No that was not going to work. There was always….
“Pr. Lindon!”
The professor looked up to see Karen, the desk receptionist speaking into a Bluetooth earpiece excitedly.
“Your protégé are here”, she announced grinning. Lindon managed a nervous smile but he was sure it probably came out crooked and disturbing by the reaction on Karen’s face.
He cleared his throat in an effort to cover the silence and said, “Let them in.”
Karen pressed a button at her desk and the metal doors opened and two families walked in. To the right were 4 people, a woman, a man, a toddler, and a teenager all African American. Lindon immediately new which one would be his victim. He swallowed painfully thinking of how he would ruin such a sweet happy family. To the left he saw 4 people as well, a woman, a gangly boy with his nose stuck in a book, a small girl bouncing anxiously on the balls of her feet, and a teenage boy who was almost equally excited. The ones on the left all had distinct blonde hair.
“Mommy when are we gonna see the fishes!!” whined the little blonde girl.
“Sweetie WE are not going to be seeing the fishes, your brother Craig is”, she said gesturing to the excited looking boy. The girl stuck her tongue out at Craig.
“Are you professor Lindon?” asked the woman to the right holding the toddler.
“Yes I am! And you must be Anne’s mother!” he said extending his hand. Shifting the child the woman shook the professor’s hand, but pulled it away quickly because it was dripping with sweat.
“And you must be Craig’s mother”, said the professor extending his hand to the other woman. Before she could shake, Craig popped up between them and took the professor’s hand instead.
“Hi! I’m Craig Praxton! I just wanted to let you know that I am so honored to be here. I really hope to learn a lot on this field trip, but not too much. The government has to keep some secrets right? I bet there are tons of new species that are being discovered RIGHT NOW.”
“Uh…”
“Is this your submarine?” asked Craig pointing to an elaborate picture of a sub on the wall, “Is that the Typhoon?!” Craig cut in before Lindon could answer. “I figured we would be using that one; Nuclear accelerators are definitely a plus…..”
Anne could not help but stare as she watched that nerd, the same one who had been so reluctant to talk earlier, wasn’t his name Craig or something, babble on about nuclear submarines. The funny thing was, Craig did not look like a nerd. He had on denim cut-off shorts and a t-shirt. His hair was long and scraggly. He actually had a skater look going on but when he opened up his mouth all of that changed. Anne shuffled around impatiently as Craig lectured them about the Typhoon. After a while Pr. Lindon cut him off with a wave of his hand.
“I…uh…see why you were chosen for our program. You have an impressive knowledge of sea vessels.”
Craig beamed with pride. “Well…actually it’s mostly submarines but I do know a thing or to about naval ships especially-,”
“And I am sure that you can tell me all about it once we start the expedition! But for now you are going to need to bid you affiliates farewell and come with me to the private hangar where we will board the sub.”
Anne had an emotional good-bye with her mother and father. Her Mom had been reluctant to let her go. She didn’t really trust these little experimental governmental programs. But it had been free, and Anne had really wanted to go. Her daughter had a strange but healthy infatuation with sharks.
She hugged Anne tightly telling her to be safe and have fun.
Her dad hugged her too, in one of his bone crushing bear hugs.
“We’re going to miss you baby girl”.
“I know daddy”, she said.
“Now don’t you be afraid to call us if something goes wrong. You know I’ll be down there with my own submarine in a minute.”
“I know daddy.”
Her little sister, Eva, tugged on her sleeve.
“Hey, don’t forget me.”
“Bye Eva,” said Anne, grinning as she hugged her little sister.
“Where are you going”, Eva whined.
“To the ocean.”
Craig had a much less sentimental parting with his family.
“I’m really going to miss you guys…” said Craig turning is head looking for Pr. Lindon.
“Likewise”, murmured Michael, not turning his eyes from his book for a moment. Michael was never one for emotions.
“Well I’m not gonna miss you!” teased Ashlin. She placed her hands on her hips. “I hope they turn you into a fish! Then I can put you in my room and dress you up like a little girl!”
“Ashlin! Be nice…” warned Craig’s mom. Ashlin stuck her tongue out at Craig.
Craig’s mother held her sons face in her hands.
“We’re all going to miss you sweetie.” She leaned in to kiss Craig on the cheek but he pulled away.
“MOM!” Craig protested. “We’re in public”.
Craig’s mother began tearing up. She didn’t want to see her son go. He was so much like his father. Ambidextrous, smart, adventurous.
“Remember Craig, your guardian Angel is always watching you.”
“Mom,” scoffed Michael. “Could you please refrain from religious statements in front of Craig and Ashlin? You can’t force Christianity on them. It’s un-American. They have a right to choose their faith.”
“Well I’d rather they have some faith than to believe in nothing…”
Suddenly, Craig felt that his family was going to be okay without him. Their petty arguments were a sign of normalcy.
Pr. Lindon, now having to periodically having to mop his brow because of extreme sweating, stood in between the two young oceanographers as they said their final goodbyes to their families.
They had stepped just a few feet beyond the metal doors leading into the docking station on the main land, directly facing Craig, Anne, and Pr. Lindon on the other side.
“Are you sure this is safe?” asked Mrs. Woods, Anne’s Mother.
“Mrs. Woods and Mrs. Praxton, your kids have nothing to worry about.” He placed his hands on Anne and Craig’s shoulders, “Their in good hands!”
Pr. Lindon felt absolutely sick lying to them. He couldn’t even try to fathom the heartbreak these people were going to feel when Karen had to make that pain staking phone call telling them that their child was dead.
With a wave of his hand Pr. Lindon signaled for Karen to close the sliding metal doors and the families of the two lucky young oceanographers disappeared.
“Well”, cheered Lindon clapping his hands together. “I’m going to go prep the sub for departure. I’ll just let you to get to know each other and-”
“Oh can I come with you? I promise I won’t be a nuisance. I’ve read all about preparing a sub for departure, all the system checks and everything! However it would be really nice to-”
“You know Craig,” the Pr, interrupted. “I really think you should take the time to get to know your comrade before we begin…” She’ll probably be the last girl you ever see… thought Lindon grimly.
Craig turned to Anne as though he had just noticed she was there at all. Craig did not like talking to girls very much. In fact he really didn’t like talking to his peers at all. They usually ended up staring at him as though he was a freak of nature. But then again, he thought, this girl had to be a little bit like him right? I mean she had been chosen for her interest in sea life.
“Hi”, said Craig extending his hand. “My name’s-.”
“Craig.” Anne cut in curtly. “I know”.
Craig felt his face flush a little. Of course she knew that! Now what was he supposed to say? He didn’t know her name. It had been in the letter her received but he hadn’t bothered to read it.
“Well I’m sure you and Anne will have plenty to talk about…” said the Professor slipping away.
“Anne!” Craig announced a little too loudly. “That’s your name! But you already new that. Everybody knows their name right? I mean only a complete idiot wouldn’t know their name, right?”
Anne stared at him quizzically. “Right…”
Craig laughed nervously feeling smaller and smaller.
“So uh…what brings you here?” Stupid, stupid, STUPID! Thought Craig.
Anne smiled more to herself than to Craig.
“I love sharks.” She cooed dreamily. “That’s why I entered the contest.”
“Oh cool!” Craig burst. “ I love sharks too. I mean not love sharks ’cause you know that’d be a little weird but they are fascinating creatures. I mean not that your weird or anything you know it’s cool to love animals. That’s better than abusing them right? I like tiger sharks though. Do you know how many layers of teeth they have?”
Anne nodded praying that Pr. Lindon would be back soon.
Craig sighed. “Sorry. I don’t normally talk to people. Much less girls. When I get nervous around people I sort of have a tendency to babble on and on and just won’t stop talking. I mean I know lot’s of people who-.”
“You mean like right now?” asked Anne raising her eyebrows at the babbling boy.
Craig turned pink. His entire face flushed in embarrassment. To Anne, he looked like he had come out of a can of Campbell’s chicken noodle soup. His blonde hair the yellow noodles and his pink face like the cubed meat. Anne had never been much of a fan of canned chicken and noodle soup.
7
Pr. Lindon scrambled around the control room of the sub frantically searching for his weapon. The only prep he needed to do for the sub was to have his gun loaded and ready.
Not over here, not over there…Not ANYWHERE! He thought manically as lifted up boxes and threw books from their shelves and peeped under every piece of furniture.
“Looking for this?” Pr. Lindon looked up to see Karen staring at him with her trademarked blatant expression holding up his 9mm in a some type of James Bond pose, with her head leaned against the threshold, her front leg bended, and the gun held up right next to her cheek. If they had been in Hollywood, this may have been remembered as one of the best scenes from the film.
The Professor cleared his throat. “Ah…yes! I’m not quite sure how I misplaced that…”
“You’re a mess,” Karen spat in disgust as she approached him, “A fat, Ogre, of a mess”. She thrust the flat side of the gun against his chest. “Try to keep up with it this time if it’s not too much to ask.”
Pr. Lindon began nervously sweating. Was it strange that he found the receptionist both hostile and attractive? Contemplation caused Lindon to sweat even more feverishly.
Karen sauntered over towards the threshold of the hangar.
“It’s loaded.” She said, reading the professor’s mind. “Just, try not screw up this time, and don’t make a huge mess. The janitors are on strike again.”
Craig seemed as though he would not be able to contain himself as they inched down the hangar. Anne had a look of both annoyance and excitement as professor Lindon led them down the hangar path and briefed them on a few safety guidelines.
“Now,” he said, steadily as he gripped the hangar door leading into the back of the sub.
“Before we board, I need to address the most important rule of all,” Pr. Lindon slightly cracked open the door and began pushing forward a little more with each word. “Don’t, touch any-”.
“Oh, my, GOD!” shouted Craig in awe as he raced passed a disgruntled Pr. Lindon, dropped his bags and walked onto the sub.
“This is no Beatles’ Yellow Submarine.” Craig sighed. “It’s not even a Typhoon. It’s…It’s….”
“The Lochness,” Pr. Lindon finished. “It’s a prototype, still in its experimental phases. No one outside of military personal has any idea it exists. You two will be one of the first civilians to ride her.”
Anne’s expression turned grim. She remembered how her mother had always felt about new technology. She always made Anne wait a year to buy any type of alien technology so that the programmers would have time to fix any bugs. “Let someone else be their lab mice”, she had always said.
Now, Anne realized, she was going to be one of lab mice.
The Professor must have noticed the worry on Anne’s face because he immediately doused the fire by saying “Of course we would never be allowed to journey in this ship unless it passed specific military safety guidelines for all submarines. Sure, the beds may be a little uncomfortable but that is the most you’ll have to worry about.” In all truth, Pr. Lindon didn’t even know if his base had run tests on the vehicle. In fact, he had never seen it leave the Research and Development Workshop.
Oh sure, He thought. Leave me to kill some kids on a ship that’s sure to drown anyway.
Oh, Wait. Submarine’s can’t drown…, he reminded himself.
In fact, Pr. Lindon was beginning to wonder if that had been the plan all along; quietly get rid of the nutty Pr. Lindon and the two kids by putting them on a sub sure to crash, or explode or worse.
He tried to push that thought aside. He had two lives in his hands, but then again those were the hands destined to pull a trigger and end those two lives. Lindon was so confused, frustrated, and angry that he was almost beside himself. His head began spinning and he was starting feel light headed. He sunk slowly to the ground, balancing himself with his hand on the wall.
Anne immediately rushed to his side. “Professor Lindon!” she screamed. Craig came out and joined Anne at the Pr’s side.
“I’ m fine,” grumbled the professor getting his bearings together, “Never better”. He slowly stood up with the help of Anne and Craig and was able to regain his balance.
Pr. Lindon did not want to, and could not think. That was one of the perks to working for top secret military plants your job involved not thinking and not asking questions. As long as you did what was asked of you, nothing more and nothing less, you were ok.
So, pr. Lindon did what he always did when he wanted to clear his mind.
He pulled a bag of Salt n’ Vinegar potato chips from his inner breast pocket and clung to them for dear life.
Anne looked up at him with a disturbed look on her face. Great, she thought. We’re on an experimental ship with a captain that’s sure to kill over from a heart attack at any moment.
She had no idea how right she was.
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