Chapter No. 49 Final Desolation

A lone American flag flaps in a gentle breeze above a small, secluded cemetery. The whispering of leaves lends background to the cheerful songs of birds. Baskets of flowers add splashes of color to the otherwise dismal array of white and gray stones. Peace and quiet reign in this place.

Only on the outside.

Julius Stram stares blankly at the glistening gray coffin sitting above a newly dug grave. His eyes are free of tears, but inside his mind, tears flow constantly. He steps forward and places a single red rose on the container that holds the corporeal remains of his beloved wife, a woman who was both his professional and conjugal partner.

He had met her at a conference on Marine Biology in Anaheim. Impressed by her presentation of a paper on the DNA sequence variations in Bottlenose Dolphins, he asked her to accompany him on a sabbatical to the Great Barrier Reef. He marveled at her unbridled enthusiasm and her insouciance. She was fearless and relentless in her search for unusual species.

"Dr. Stram."

Stram spun around. "I'm surprised that you would make an appearance here in this unprotected location."

The large, bald-headed man's eyes narrowed. "You gave us no choice. We have been unable to contact you by normal methods."

"I've been preoccupied of late." He said with a voice tinged with sarcasm. "Recent days have been chaotic."

"Chaos is the nature of our business. We demand concentration and perseverance."

"What more do you want of me? The creatures have been released. The Institute no longer has them."

"Yes, we know this. We have other concerns, now."

Stram shook his head. "I hope you don't expect me to recover them."

The big man held up his hand. "No, Doctor. That project has been terminated. We are concerned about your presence here. We think it more prudent that you . . . shall we say, disappear."

"Disappear?" Stram's eyes widened with surprise. "Why?"

"Senator Jarvis has called a Congressional hearing on the recent incidents involving the creatures. We do not wish you to be swept up in this investigation."

"I will retire to the lab and continue my work. Marian would have wanted that." He glanced at the coffin.

"Yes," the big man said. "A plane is waiting." His squinty eyes swiveled around. "We must hurry. This place is under surveillance."

Stram's nervous eyes settled one more time on his wife's coffin.

He sighed deeply.

###

Colorful banners flap in a gentle breeze above the deserted Marineland tank. A few dolphins splash in a nearby tank, occasionally snorting and hissing. Swallows and Warblers sing their midday songs as blustery winds play with hyacinths and jasmines, blowing cyclic waves down vast flowerbeds to create a perpetual shimmer of colors in the morning sun. No evidence of the horror that had taken place here remains. Peace and quiet has taken its place.

Only on the outside.

Eric sat in the stands staring blankly at the water rippling and lapping against the sides of the tank. He was unshaven and his eyes were puffed up.

Dr. Stevens approached him, at first slowly moving down the stands in back of him, and then finally taking a seat next to him.

"What the hell are you doing here, Hauptman? I thought you were at the hospital with your wife."

Eric slowly turned his grieving face to him. "I couldn't stand it anymore, George. She just lies there holding on to a thread of life in a coma. She doesn't even know that I'm . . . the doctors don't have much hope that she'll . . ." He buried his face in his hands. "I love her. I can't imagine what my life would be without her."

Stevens bent over, folded his hands, and sighed. "I understand what you're going through."

Eric turned to look at him with an incredulous expression. "How could you know what I'm going through, George? You've never been married."

"Oh, but I was, my friend. Before I came to the Institute, when I was at Stanford, I had a wife and two children, a boy and a girl. The boy was only six months old and the girl was three."

"I don't understand . . . what happened to them?"

Steven's glazed eyes stared at a distant imaginary object. He swallowed. "They were killed in a car accident. Some idiot had too much to drink . . . The two children were killed instantly. My wife suffered for seven days, constantly in pain. Her face was so mangled, I hardly recognized her." He paused to lower his eyes. "Thank God, she finally died."

Eric's facial muscles tightened. His eyes glistened. "I'm sorry. I had no idea."

"Don't concern yourself, Hauptman. It was a long time ago."

Eric looked out at the tank and sighed. "Too bad the creatures are no longer around."

"Yes," Stevens said. "Anderson really surprised me. I can't believe that he allowed them to escape. It's totally out of character."

"He didn't have much choice. That idiot Stram has made a total disaster out of this. I heard that they discovered two canisters of Botulism toxin near one of Stram's goons. That stuff is one of the most toxic biological weapons ever . . . it only takes one billionth of a gram to kill. One billionth! And they had two canisters. What were they going to do: kill everyone on the West Coast. I don't understand how the government can allow something like this to continue."

Stevens grunted. "Stram has no need to pester us again. He'll have his hands full now that Senator Jarvis has called for a hearing on this affair."

Eric exhaled. His breath rattled with anger. "Wonderful! All they'll do is cover it up." He stared at Stevens for a few seconds. His face reflected the confusion that permeated his soul. "Do you think these creatures were created by Stram?"

"I find it hard to believe. Conners is convinced that they've been around for over six million years. I think Stram wanted them because he believed he could train them for the military."

"Then, why did he try to kill them?"

Stevens shook his head. "I don't know why . . . He's crazy." He paused, as if not sure of himself. "Maybe he's jealous. Maybe he didn't want us to find out the truth about these creatures."

Eric's attempt to laugh was more of a pathetic cry. "That's ridiculous. What did he take us for: idiots?"

Stevens bowed his head for a few minutes before he looked at Eric. "Did you read Delvin's autopsy report on the dead animals?"

"No. I . . . I haven't had much time."

"These creatures have very sensitive eyes. They can see at extreme depths. Delvin said that their eyes have an internal shield that prevents damage when they're out of the water."

"No wonder they're such good hunters. They can see much better than their prey. That certainly proves evolutionary specificity for this species."

Eric continued to stare at the water, avoiding Stevens' gaze. He didn't want him to get a good look at his face.

Stevens sighed again. "Conners has proof that these creatures evolved on this planet."

"Really? How did she do it?"

"She's done protein structures on some of their hormone- binding receptor sites. They contain the sequences that are found in the hormone receptors of all life, including humans. Those sequences go back over six hundred million years, when all species diverged from a common ancestor."

"I'm not sure that her evidence would convince the general public."

"It works for me."

Eric gave him a concurring smile. "We're scientists. We appreciate good research results."

"Not to change the subject, Hauptman, but you were right about their brains. They have the usual Cetacean paralimbic area, but their cortex layers are more densely packed with neurons than in humans and the entire layer is thicker. The frontal lopes are extremely convoluted."

"Does Delvin think they're more intelligent than humans?"

"He said there's no way to tell. Conners believes they are, though. She claims that they had language skills long before humans."

Eric shook his head. "That figures. Man has finally found another sentient species in this crazy universe, and guess what: He wants to exploit it or . . . or kill it. What a waste."

"You're right about that one, Hauptman."

Both men stared in silence at the lapping water for several minutes.

Eric turned to George. "Did you ever wonder if you're staring into the face of God when you look at one of these creatures?"

Stevens stared at him with a blank expression for a few seconds. "What the hell are you talking about? You're not going spiritual on me, are you?"

"No. I'm just wondering if humankind is being tested here. We seem to have a penchant for destruction, especially when we deal with other life forms and strange cultures. Maybe God is testing us."

"If he is, we've failed . . . miserably."

"Amen to that," Eric said, rubbing the back of his neck as if he could message away the terrible weight he felt pressing down on it.

After another period of silence, Stevens stood up. "Look, Hauptman, I've got work to do. You need anything, I'm always around."

Eric nodded and then watched him slowly walk away. He shook his head and sighed. If he had known about George's family . . . You just never know about people. No wonder he's such a grouch.

He sighed again.