Leviathan(3)
Silent, Chesterton stared coldly at the screen.
“That blast was at least ten thousand degrees,” Frank said, a confused expression. “And the whole attack came from nowhere. It hadn't made any threatening movements. It didn't uncoil. There was no increase in heart rate. One minute it was just sitting at the far end of the cavern. Staring at us. And then it just charged forward—” He raised his hands to describe a terrific image. “—and then fire! Everywhere! Nothing but fire!”
Lowering his hands, Frank quietly joined Chesterton in staring at the screen once more, watching the horrific bestial face hatefully and purposefully poised directly in front of the camera.
Captured on the monitor, a pair of glowing green eyes glared at them, unable to see through but somehow sensing their presence and blinking with a dark, malicious intelligence—soulless, unmerciful, calculating. A thick row of armored scales, black and green on the sloping forehead, bled off the top half of the screen, the lower half of the screen glinting in jagged white jaws that hung distended, smiling ...
Mocking.
“It was testing the strength of the Containment Cell,” Frank commented, continuing to stare.
Chesterton was grim. “And why is that, Doctor?”
The scientist dismally shook his head, as if the answer were obvious.
“It's hungry.”
* * *
Chapter 2
Struggling to light a large black bowl pipe with long pulls from a match, the gray-haired old man sat down at the conference table, casually waving the tiny flame into a thin spiral of smoke.
“I understand that we remain in danger,” Dr. Jason Hoffman commented encouragingly. “But I believe we are fortunate not to find ourselves in immediate peril.”
“We're fortunate not to find ourselves dead!” Colonel Chesterton fumed, leaning on the table with both forearms. “That's something all of you need to realize, Doctor. And let me add that we are not out of the woods. At least, not yet.”
Hoffman gazed over a broad, flat nose. “Yes, Colonel, I agree. I agree wholeheartedly. But, still, we are not presently in peril.” He nodded curtly to the far end of the table. “Thanks to Peter.”
Frank, tired and sweaty and still shaking from the terrifying ordeal, said nothing. Silently he pressed his hands flat against a computer printout to still their trembling from residual adrenaline.
Chesterton leaned forward, a hard edge in his voice. “Look, Dr. Hoffman, I don't mean to be disrespectful. But it is my obligation to inform you that we are not in a good defensive condition. We have sustained a catastrophic systems failure. We have very little automatic control, which means that the security vaults remain unstable.” His face grew tightened. “No one knows what will happen if that creature does something like this again. The shock might completely shut down the electrical system. It could even open the containment vaults. There's just no way to know.”
“I understand, Colonel,” Hoffman responded through a haze of pipe smoke. “Frank, does GEO remain on-line?”
Frank nodded. “Yes. GEO's redundant computer core is magnetically shock-suspended to protect it from the island's natural seismic activity. So that protected it from the impact with only temporary field distortion in the neural net. Right now it's performing self-diagnosis on all sub processors and dedicated terminal nodes. It'll finish reconfiguring secondary Cray class units, reprogramming setup standardization, and reestablishing orbital satellite net links. But the system is 75 percent dedicated in reconfiguring and self-diagnosis and those operations are taxing our already strained power supply. There's still about another two hours of processing remaining.”
“I understand,” replied Hoffman. “How long before the control panel is repaired?”
“Twenty-four hours,” Frank answered. “We have replacement parts but we have to get that electrical line repaired first. And we'll have to use somebody from the surface to do it. My people aren't qualified.”
“I see.” Hoffman frowned over his pipe. “Well, Colonel? Is it possible to use someone from the surface personnel to repair the line?”
A sullen pause, and Chesterton nodded. “Yeah, I think so. Jackson Connor can do it. He's a master electrician, a mechanic and foreman of the civilian support crew. He knows construction, engines, whatever, so there's not much he can't handle. In fact he's probably the only man on the island who's qualified to handle it by himself. But he doesn't have the necessary security clearance to enter the Containment Cavern.”
“Meaning he does not know the exact nature of the experiment,” Hoffman confirmed.
“No,” Chesterton replied. “Connor doesn't know what we. . . what they created in this infernal place. And there would probably be, uh, danger if he did discover what's in there.”