Leviathan(18)
“So ... a biblical reference,” Adler smiled. It was not a question, and his expression made it clear that there was no need for an answer. Yes, the smile said, I know of these things. I am not an ignorant man.
A lengthy pause and Frank nodded, simply to end the conversation. He had long ago passed the point where he wanted to leave. And the overbearing Adler finally granted his wish. He rose.
“I congratulate you on your success, Doctor,” he said. “You have reached a great achievement. And truly, there is no immediate foretelling where your research will lead. You may very well have changed the world as we know it.” Without effort he shifted into his paternal mode. “Yes, Electromagnetic Chromosomal Manipulation may herald the dawn of a new and superior life-form on the earth. In the near future it may be used to alter living organisms so that they cannot age, cannot die. It may cure cancer. Or eliminate an entire host of crippling genetic disorders.”
With tired, dead eyes, Frank focused on the director.
“Or make living weapons of war,” he said flatly.
Connor wiped sweat from a dirt-grimed brow as Chesterton led him along the steel walkway. Exhausted, he was irritable and hot and still frustrated by the secret atmosphere of the Observation Room. But now the job was done, and Chesterton was leading him back toward the elevator shaft.
Moving for some irrational reason in the same bizarre silence they had maintained in the Observation Room, they passed the cavern's Command Center. But as they neared the doorway two men walked out of the portal, shadowed in darkness.
Connor instantly recognized one of them as the young, hotshot scientist who was supposedly running the project, Peter Frank. He didn't know the older man, but his words immediately reached Connor.
“Leviathan will be tested when—”
“Hey!” Chesterton yelled, glaring. The two men turned abruptly, and Chesterton turned to Connor, then back to the older man.
Connor stepped into the middle of the walkway, sensing the seriousness of the situation and moved by some primal impulse to hold his own ground. He evenly held the older man's gaze.
A silent moment passed, Connor watching them all, waiting for them to make the first move. Then, slowly, the older man walked forward, holding Connor's gaze until he stood fully in the walkway, blocking the path. Connor estimated the white-haired man was at least six inches taller and very obviously in charge. There was something faintly ominous about how he barred the walkway.
“What did you hear, Mr. Connor?” he asked, supremely confident.
Sullen, Connor lowered his gaze, momentarily looking past the man to see Peter Frank standing in the doorway, mouth open, hands hanging limp at his sides. He seemed afraid. And Chesterton was stoic, accustomed to the sight of men throwing their weight in the paths of others. But Connor also saw a poised readiness in Chesterton's stance, as if he thought he might have to physically intervene.
Connor looked up. But this wasn't his place and he didn't want any part of it. Without blinking he held the mesmerizing gaze of the older man as he spoke. He didn't bother to make his voice friendly.
“I didn't hear anything at all.”
“No,” the old man smiled, teeth gleaming, as if the answer had never been in doubt. “Of course you didn't.”
* * *
Chapter 6
Bellowing and piled atop with a dozen burly workmen, Thor momentarily staggered on the crest of the hill. With one arm pinned by four men and another two-hundred-pound wrestler perched on his shoulders, the giant Norseman struggled ferociously to hold his ground.
A dozen men heaved together, pushed against him, over a ton of hardened muscle straining violently to knock Thor off balance, to topple him from the top of the low hill.
Laughing manically, face as red as his wild red beard, Thor crouched to plant his booted feet in place. Then, reaching down with a tree-trunk arm, he began peeling his attackers off like children or pulling them forward over his shoulders to hurl them down the tundra-mound where they would slide to a muddy halt only to launch themselves up the hill again, sweating and smiling, to rejoin the fray.
Connor heard the commotion as he stepped off the elevator, instantly smiling. Catching the spirit of the contest, he moved around the side of the facility to see Thor, a solid and unshaken King of the Hill, holding off his challengers who were mostly airborne or straining without effect to overcome his stance. Loud bets and cheers were cast from a divided crowd.
“C'mon, Thor!” someone yelled. “Just ten more seconds!”
Struck by the voice, Connor looked into the crowd and saw Beth enthusiastically clutching a fistful of money and laughing as she called out the last seconds. His son, Jordan, was jumping up and down, cheering.