Primordial

Chapter 18

Aston was glad to get back out into the fresh, crisp day after they’d thanked Old Mo and made their retreat, but he was frustrated. If anything, they had emerged with more questions than they’d taken in. The animal migration story was a useful scientific tidbit, however. It gave him pause that they really might be dealing with something strange. And the annual deaths, the body torn in half. How did a town this small cope with the fact that someone died almost every year on or near the lake? Sometimes several someones. Aston couldn’t help thinking he’d have moved away at the first opportunity, but perhaps most of these people simply didn’t have that option, maybe for financial reasons, or simple familial loyalty and staying where they had always been. The idea of tradition had a lot to answer for in its various incarnations.

As they made their way back to the harbor, Aston decided he was really getting suspicious of everything to do with Superintendent Rinne too. The local police chief gave him the creeps on many levels. There was obviously mutual dislike, but he couldn’t blame Rinne for that if the lawman suspected them of lying to him about their reasons for being here. But Aston’s distrust ran deeper, and not based on that quip about Nazi blood. It was something else, more immediate and contemporary, that bothered him about the gruff official. He smiled inwardly, self-awareness rising. He had often run afoul of the law, since his teens and on into adulthood. He needed to remember that his distrust of the police was because they were a hornets’ nest he regularly poked. But even taking that into account, something discomforted him about Rinne. Even if the man wasn’t the local Superintendent, Aston was pretty sure he wouldn’t like the guy.

Slater broke his reverie. “We’d better get back.” She scanned the jetties with their large variety of watercraft. “Where’s his dinghy?”

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Dave’s dinghy.” Slater waved a palm left and right. “We should have checked when we arrived, but it’s only just occurred to me. If he came to town, why isn’t it here?”

Aston pursed his lips, scanning the vessels to confirm it wasn’t in sight. “I don’t remember seeing it.”

“Me either.”

“Maybe we’ll find Dave back at the boat, waiting for us.”

Slater looked at him for a moment, and then turned her gaze out over the iron-colored waters of the lake. “No, we won’t.” She turned hard eyes back to him. “Will we?”

Aston licked his lips, ineffectually as his mouth was suddenly dry. “No. No, I don’t think we will.”

“Shit, Dave.” Hurt lay heavy in Slater’s voice.

Aston put a hand on her shoulder, went to give her a hug.

She pulled away, striding off toward their dinghy. “Come on. Let’s not waste time.”

They motored back to the Merenneito in silence. It was easy to forego speech over the noise of the small outboard, but Aston was a little concerned at Slater’s coldness. Was she just concerned for Dave or was she making it very clear that last night was last night and he wasn’t to think any differently? She might, of course, be cool with him for both those reasons. He shook himself. There was no point in pining like a bloody teenager for her and she was right that they had bigger things to deal with. Play it cool, Sam. You might get to fool around with her again, but not if you’re an idiot about it.

Holloway appeared on deck as they drew near, his face stretched with a wide smile.

Slater turned to Aston with a frown. “What’s he so happy about?”

Aston shrugged. “Who the hell knows? Maybe his stocks went up a point.”

“Welcome back!” Holloway called to them. “Why isn’t Dave with you?”

“We can’t find him,” Slater shouted back.

Holloway moved to the side and lowered the cradle to help them rehang the dinghy. Sudden, almost oppressive silence descended as Slater killed the engine.

“Can’t find him?” Holloway asked, his voice subdued.

“No sign anywhere,” Aston said. “Just vanished.”

“Do you think he abandoned us?” Holloway asked.

Slater climbed aboard and Aston followed. “Maybe,” she said. “We don’t have anything to go on. No sight of him.”

“Unbelievable. I can’t abide irresponsible, unprofessional behavior!” Holloway spat. “It’s just as well you’ve proven you can manage without him thus far. Looks like you’ll have to carry on that way. Are you up for that?”

Slater nodded curtly. “Yes, we’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

Clearly she didn’t want to discuss the matter with Holloway and Aston couldn’t blame her. The billionaire’s effusive nature and innate selfishness made him the last person Aston would ever want to talk to about anything serious. Let him concentrate on his folly.

True to form, Holloway practically danced across the deck, Dave’s disappearance forgotten in an instant. The beaming smile was back. “Well, we’ve certainly had some interesting happenings while you’ve been gone. Come on and we’ll give you the good news.”

He led the way back to the bridge where they found Alvar Laine, Olli Makkonen, and Carly waiting for them. Carly held the camera trained on the large table that was now covered in printed images. She looked at Slater with one eyebrow raised and Slater shook her head. Carly frowned and a look passed between them that Aston interpreted as, ’we’ll talk later’.

“Look at what we’ve got here,” Holloway said. “Two of our underwater cameras were working overtime last night.”

Carly slowly circled, capturing the moment on film.

“Which ones?” Aston asked.

Holloway pulled the lake map over and indicated two spots near the lake shore where a pair of cameras were positioned less than half a mile from where he and Slater had just been — a stone’s throw from Old Mo’s shack. “Here and here,” he said. He shoved the map aside and pulled two grainy black and white images to the fore. “What do you make of these?”

All the images showed the same thing: a grayish, diamond shape in the murky water. Aston leaned in for a closer look. “They look like flippers,” he said cautiously. “Based on the shape, it could be a seal, though with no reference to size…” His words sounded doubtful to his own ears and the others obviously shared that assessment.

Slater gave him a look, part amused, part chiding. “Is there any way we can get a scale?” she asked, turning her attention back to the photos.

“Not really,” Holloway admitted.

Aston had to agree. “If there were an object of known size in the image, or if we knew the flipper’s precise distance from the camera, we could make a reasonable calculation, but with no frame of reference, we’re stuck.”

“So, either it’s a small object that’s very close to the camera or it’s a huge object that’s far away.”

Aston nodded. He assumed Slater’s statement of the obvious was for the benefit of the slower-witted of her television audience.

“It’s definitely way bigger than a seal,” Laine said disdainfully. “At bare minimum it’s about ten feet from the camera, else it wouldn’t be in focus at all. And the shape really isn’t seal-like.”

Aston nodded, chastised. “You’re right. It’s too long, too pointed.”

“Look at the ends of the flippers,” Slater said. “It looks like there are little nubs on them, like digits.”

“Maybe,” Aston said, “but it’s difficult to tell. It could just be a trick of the camera, what with the murky water.”

“And how about this?” Holloway moved new images into view that showed a curve of dark flank that seemed to be riddled with small studs of bone or scale.

Aston leaned closer still, fascinated. “Maybe a fresh water shark no one has seen before?” he suggested, genuinely racking his brain now for answers.

Holloway pulled another picture to the top. It showed a clearer, larger section of the thing’s body and this time a crest of long bony spines was stark against the murky water.

“Jesus Christ.” Aston stood back in surprise, and then quickly went back in for a second look. “This has the hallmarks of some kind of, I don’t know, basilosaurus maybe. But they weren’t spined. Honestly, anything like this is a bit out of my area of expertise.”

Holloway pounced on the suggestion. “Saurus? You mean a dinosaur?” He rubbed his hands together in anticipation of Aston’s reply.

Aston flapped one hand. “It can’t be a dinosaur! I mean, it could be some creature descended from something like a basilosaurus or similar. I just wish we had a better idea of how big it was.”

“I’ve been doing some calculations,” Laine said. “In one of the photos you can see stones and what looks like an old diesel can. Based on the images and the small amount of visible objects, my guess is that thing, whatever it might be, is over fifty feet long.”

Everyone in the room tuned to stare at the cryptozoologist. Carly made a small noise in her throat then reddened, embarrassed. Holloway’s grin threatened to split his head in two.

“That’s ridiculous,” Aston said. Laine handed him the photograph in question and pointed out the oblong shape lying in the mud beneath the tip of the flipper. But still… “Your calculations must be way off.”

Laine shrugged. “It’s possible. But even a conservative estimate on the information available suggests at least thirty-five feet. And that’s very conservative.”

“But your reference points are not particularly clear or obvious. There’s a lot of guessing, right?” Aston said, trying to nudge the man to admit he was deliberately overstating the issue.

“I’ve lived here my whole life,” Laine replied matter-of-factly. “I know this lake and the sort of detritus that gathers at the bottom.”

There was silence for a few moments. Eventually Aston said, “We have to be careful not to get too carried away. Good science, good research, is about taking your time and double and triple-checking everything. Jumping to conclusions or making uncertain conclusions from limited data is the worst thing we can do now. We don’t even know if this thing is a predator or some kind of giant grass-eating manatee!”

Holloway threw back his head and laughed, a harsh guffaw that sounded to Aston distinctly like Ah-HA! He winced internally. What had the crazy old guy got next?

The billionaire pushed everything else aside to make a clear spot on the table then reverentially laid one more photo on the dark wood. “I would say it was an apex predator, Mister Aston.”

A variety of gasps and groans sounded around the room. The picture showed, in clear close-up, a section of bony jaw. Plainly visible were at least two rows of wickedly pointed, backwards-facing teeth.

“Just think of the money and prestige to be gained from this giant prehistoric beauty!” Holloway said.

Aston kept his silence. If Holloway was correct, and Aston still doubted it, there were plenty of considerations the man hadn’t yet measured.