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AMBYSSUS | Ch. 11 - The Cerberus
🕑 Added 2023-08-01 09:52:53 +0000 UTCThank you for your very kind support.
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The waitress grabbed the silver coin Geoffrey gave her and turned it over in her hand, trying to determine whether it was the real thing. Satisfied, she walked over toward Peter Hilton. Geoffrey leaned back again into the shadows of the corner of the tavern as he followed the waitress going up to Peter Hilton and then pointing back at him. Excusing himself from his friends, Peter Hilton came to Geoffrey’s table and sat facing him.
From what Red had told him, this man would be expensive, but his services would undoubtedly be worth the price. Peter Hilton was one of the most renowned balatee stockmen on the lake. When whales went extinct, other than their oil, one resource that soon became much desired was baleen. Many whales had rigid yet flexible whiskers on their mouth, which they used to filter plankton and eat krill. This valuable material could be used to make springs, corsets, and other infinitely varied industrial applications. With the extinction of whales, there was no more supply to meet the increasing demand.
Even though scientists had discovered that it was possible to synthesize baleen-like material from petroleum, the research in that direction had been blocked by the Science Academy after being judged potentially catastrophic to the environment. Fortunately, it had been discovered that baleen could be harvested from the balatees, one of the relatives of the dugongs and manatees, more closely related to the Stellar Sea Cow.
Balatees were animals that could grow as large as eight meters long and weigh 2 to 3 tons. Even though their blubber wasn't as good for sirenia production, its mouth contained whiskers with properties similar to baleen. This trait was explored and, after careful selective breeding, soon improved.
Balatees, like other sea cows, were mild and meek beasts. Unlike their cousins, they favored the deepest reaches of Lake Grassum, where they could find food better suited to them. Geoffrey’s herd had been entirely made of dugongs. He had no previous experience with balatees. These sensitive animals required one to pay extra care not only to how plump they were but also to how their health affected the quality of the baleen in their mouths. This man would be an important asset to bring over to this side.
Peter was taller than him. His face was squared, and he had a large forehead. He seemed to be in his mid-forties. The expressionless look on his face conveyed life experience and calm. He patiently waited for Geoffrey to state his business. After Geoffrey was satisfied with examining the man's character up close, he started by poking at the man's soft spot.
“How goes work?” probed Geoffrey.
The sting of pain on Peter’s face revealed that the question had scored a hit. He soon recovered his composure, revealing his life experience.
“Things are a bit… underwhelming at work. Times are tough. But I’m not worried. I'm good at what I do and I'll find something soon.”
“Perhaps, you just did.”
Peter listened in. “I am all ears.”
“I represent a businessman who has been expanding his activities lately. He'd like to invite you to a job interview.” As Geoffrey said it, he slid a card with the symbol of Geoffrey’s estate. A flash of surprise appeared on Peter’s face. Geoffrey could see the gears turning in the man's head.
“What do you say, Mr. Hilton?”
“I thought Mr. Geoffrey only kept dugongs. I work with balatees.”
“And your expertise is why you’re being offered this opportunity. Come to Mr. Geoffrey’s estate tomorrow. Compensation will be more than appropriate for a man of your talents.”
"I'll think about it."
“One more thing.”
“Yes?”
“Any noteworthy competent friends of yours that are unhappy about… underwhelming working conditions?”
*
The day was spent, and even though the professor had kept asking for five more minutes in the lake, Red had eventually made the call to start heading back. The sea cows had grazed to satisfaction and leveled a lush underwater jungle into a neatly trimmed prairie. With their bellies full of seagrass, they now happily followed their dolphin friends and the submarine, probably hoping to be fed some dessert in the form of juicy apples, back on the lake shore.
Throughout the day, Joey had gone from not knowing what the word cline meant to becoming a quasi-expert. They had seen all sorts of shapes and sizes of clines through the window of the nautilus. In most of the lake, it seemed like the freshwater had been brought to the surface, and saltwater was at the bottom. However, the stratification wasn’t uniform everywhere.
Sometimes, columns of saltwater formed pillars that rose until they touched the surface. Other times, the freshwater extended itself in complex rootlike patterns cutting through the deeper saltwater. The seagrass continued to enjoy its needed salinity. Fish that favored saltwater stayed within the boundaries of it, not crossing to the clearer side. Dolphins and dugongs went freely between layers but spent more time in the saltwater.
It baffled Joey that it could all be water but not mix. Professor Esther had spent the day researching chemoclines, haloclines, pycnoclines, thermoclines, and lysoclines. He caught her fidgeting her leg restlessly as she thought up theories to explain this phenomenon.
"So, if there are all these types of clines, this means that there must be a logical explanation for this, right?" tried Joey.
"This is not my first time seeing clines before, Joey. But this is a complete mess. I can't understand how there would be so many different types of clines stratifying the water column in such a chaotic way."
"What should it be like, then?"
"Typically, it would be a horizontal water cline. I once was part of an expedition to an underwater cave where the heavier saltier water sank to the bottom, while the lighter, fresher water stuck to the top, like what you saw in most parts of the lake."
"Right..."
"I've also seen vertical clines. Sometimes when two rivers meet, the water remains undivided for miles before mixing. Or when river waters and sea waters meet, vertical clines can form." Joey nodded. They had seen both types of clines during their trip today.
"You can consider sea currents a type of cline too. Sea currents form a complex tunnel system in the ocean waters. The forces that drive these currents include differences in temperature and salinity."
"Then this is normal."
"No, Joey. It isn't. Seeing all these combined in so many different patterns and shapes so close to each other is unprecedented. And for the life of me, I can't think of a reason for the weirder shapes in the clines that we saw. What explains those root-like patterns? Or the pillars? It makes no sense... it makes no sense..." Her explanations again devolved into mumbled whispers. Joey gave up trying to understand."
By the time they coasted the submarine, the sun was already setting. A full day had already passed. Red, agilely, stepped out of the submarine first. Even though he was the oldest, his experience made Joey and Esther look clumsy and elderly. As Red hauled them up onto the pier, Joey felt the relief of stepping again onto dry land.
“Thank you, Red. We appreciate you letting us tag along with your crew for the day.”
“Don’t mention it, Joey. We all want what is best for the town.”
Esther stood beside Joey, eyes on the sunset over the lake, lost in her thoughts. Joey thought that the fatigue of the overnight journey and a busy day of scientific exploration had taken its toll. He should take the professor back to her hotel promptly.
"Shall we go, professor?"
Awoken from her thoughts, Esther finally responded. "Of course, Joey. Thank you, Mr. Red. I appreciate your help.”
"Don't mention it."
Joey and Esther started heading toward their locomotive while Red returned to the pen. He started barking orders to the other foremen while whistling commands to his shepherd dolphin pod to get the cattle into the pens.
Soon they were going back through the woods toward the city, accompanied by the clickety-clack of the locomotive.
“So? Is this now the time we exchange theories, professor?” prompted the constable.
“Sure. I think so, yes.”
“Ladies first. What do you make of what you’ve seen today? Any theories?”
“I have an inkling of an idea, but its implications are far larger than I can imagine.”
“Maybe talking about it with someone else will help you get your thoughts sorted. Let’s hear it.”
“Very well.” Esther investigated the rucksack and searched the newspapers she had read earlier. She found the one dated the day of the flood. “Here.” That day’s newspaper headline read: “Green Comet Sighted by Observatory.”
“I don’t follow. I read about this. Apparently, there is going to be a good vintage of wine this year. What does that have to do with anything?”
“Constable, do you know the difference between a meteor and a comet?”
“Uuh… not really. Aren’t they the same thing?”
“From a certain perspective, you could say so. Essentially meteors and comets are rocks that travel through outer space. The difference is that comets go past our planet while meteors are caught in the Earth’s gravity and enter our atmosphere. If they are big and resistant enough, they make it to the planet's surface. You can see some meteorites in the Natural History Museum of the capital.”
“So, what is your point?”
“What if this wasn’t a comet? What if it was a meteorite? What if it fell into the lake?”
Joey pondered for a moment.
“So, you’re suggesting that the rise in the lake's water level was because this meteorite crashed into it, and it was big enough to make the water level rise? Kind of like when you have a bathtub and enter it, causing the water to overflow.”
“Precisely.”
“But wouldn’t the meteorite have to be enormous to cause such a big lake to flood?”
Esther paused for a moment. “You’re right. Lake Grassum occupies an area of roughly ninety thousand square kilometers. The water level rose by a full meter. The meteorite would have had to have the size of ninety cubic kilometers to be able to displace this much water.
“Is that a lot?”
“It’s the size of the biggest mountain on Earth. Imagine a nine-kilometer-tall mountain falling from space into the lake.”
Joey gulped. He couldn’t wrap his head around the scale.
“But wouldn’t the fall of a large meteorite be seen from everywhere around the lake?”
“That’s where things start to get tricky. A fall of a meteorite that big would have cataclysmic effects. It could very well have killed everyone on the continent. That’s where things don’t seem to add up. Even if the entry angle into the atmosphere was just right, and the meteorite fell into a deep part of the lake that could soften its fall, I still think that the explosion would have killed everything in a radius of thousands of kilometers.”
“I see. Since we're all alive, that theory doesn't work, right?"
The professor shrugged. "It seems unlikely. But at the same time, it’s too big of a coincidence.”
“Yes. It is."
"Just in case, I would send letters to all the coastal towns of the lake inquiring if any meteorite falls were spotted. If the atmosphere broke the meteorite into small enough chunks, perhaps there would be the possibility of that much mass falling into the lake while not having a cataclysmic impact.”
Joey took his little notepad and started taking notes. He would ask the commissioner to send letters to distant towns.
“As you know, the prevalent theory in town is that there was some underwater volcanic eruption. Doesn’t that sound more likely? What do you have to say about that?”
“It’s also plausible, and I haven’t discarded the possibility. The problem with both possibilities is that big occurrences must mark events of such magnitude. Earthquakes, for example. Or smoke coming out of the lake. A change in the water’s chemical composition.”
“If you think about it, there was a change in the water’s chemical composition. The salinity and the clines.”
“True. What troubles me most is that the way the water is stratified looks too organized, too defined. How could an event be cataclysmic enough to trigger this type of change while being meticulous enough to cause this sort of change."
Joey sighed. The emissaries of the Science Academy were legendary figures. Professor Esther easily discussed hydrology, chemistry, and astronomy showing great mastery over all the different fields. She had also revealed already, throughout the day, incredible knowledge in mechanical engineering and socioeconomics. He wondered if asking how many degrees she had would be impolite.
On top of that, she had traveled the world at the academy's service. She had seen the world and had a vast reserve of experience and knowledge to draw from. For even such an insightful figure to not be able to make sense of the situation made Joey have a bittersweet taste in his mouth. On the one hand, it was a boost to his self-esteem. If an emissary from the Science Academy hadn't cracked this, there was nothing wrong with him not having done it either. On the other hand, it filled him with worry. There was no one else they could call. Professor Esther Lincoln was the best help they would get in sorting this.
“Joey, leaving the ecological phenomena aside, I would still like to ask what you make of the situation. How is the city coping?”
“Well, the situation is unprecedented. There hasn’t been panic buying like this since the Whale Wars. It’s scary how fragile the world is. One flood in a lake can destroy a country on the other side of the planet.”
Esther nodded.
“To the city’s merit, the mayor and the ranchers have all come together and presented a united front to the public. Every day they encourage people to stay calm and say that everything will return to normal soon. Although some greedy idiot wiped the storehouse of the oil market clean before anyone else could get a hold of what was going on in the lake, the mayor was able to put together a stock of sirenian oil from the ranchers' and the city's reserves."
"And why is it that you're suspicious of Mr. Geoffrey?" Joey stared at her wide-eyed.
"You saw through that, didn't you?" The professor nodded.
"You're not the first trying to use the presence of an emissary of the Science Academy as a political maneuver."
"I wouldn't say it was political. I'm no politician."
"Still..." Joey sighed.
"Geoffrey and I went to school together. He used to come to school barefoot because he couldn’t afford even a pair of shoes. Now, he is the businessman hero who single-handedly ensures that the supply chain of sirenian oil is not interrupted."
"And..."
"I bumped into him on the day of the flood. He seemed strange. He has explored the weakness of the other ranchers and is sucking them dry."
"And..." This professor's insight was uncanny. It felt like she could see through him.
"Look... I can't help but have a gut feeling that Geoffrey is somehow related to the flood in the lake. I can't explain to you why. I do. It almost feels like he knows exactly what happened. There's something strange going on with him."
The professor remained silent. She was probably wondering why her escort was behaving like a child and bringing along one of the most prestigious academics on the planet on this sort of fool's errand.
"I see. He did know about the clines already, didn't he?"
"You don't think I'm acting crazy?" asked Joey in surprise.
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because I got the same feeling." Joey's heart skipped a beat. "Listen, Joey, the human brain is the greatest frontier. In spite of how far we've come in our pursuit of science, the way the mind works is beyond us. Sometimes, these gut feelings are hints from our subconscious. I wouldn't dismiss Geoffrey withholding information from us. Keep observing him discreetly. I'll do the same."
*
Deep in the sewers that ran under New Lisbon was a massive chamber. Its archways and high ceilings made it look like an underground cathedral. This used to be a warehouse used by the workers who had constructed the underground sewage system decades ago. One could easily imagine hundreds of workers, heavy steam machinery, and depots of building materials fitting here. With the construction of the sewage system complete, the chamber had been forgotten and abandoned. Regardless of what it used to be, it was now the black merchant’s lab.
A young woman sat somewhere in the center of the chamber, strapped to a metal chair. She seemed to be twenty-six or twenty-seven years old. Her brown eyes were open but unfocused and distant. She appeared completely oblivious to her surroundings. She wore a gray tunic, something that a patient in a hospital would wear. Her shaved head only strengthened that impression. She was wearing what seemed like only half of a helmet.
Off the leather of the helmet, hair-thin metal rods stood out like the spikes of a hedgehog. They kept slightly moving. As they moved, a similar contraption hanging down from a metal crane mirrored its movements. The equipment seemed extremely delicate as if the slightest tension would break the helmet's needle-like rods or contraption in half. The girl’s head had been fastened to prevent her from making the tiniest move.
The seemingly small apparatus that connected the head of the woman to the crane branched and grew, expanding into a titanic machine that occupied most of the massive facilities. Cogwheels and gears turned. Some cogwheels were as large as houses, and others were as tiny as acorns. Pistons fired and then reset. Throughout the machine, gauges kept moving their dials in faster or slower movements, indicating their performance. Whistling jets of steam sometimes screeched loud enough to pierce through the mechanical humming of the giant machine.
A few minutes earlier, an intruder had arrived. He had triggered an alarm on his way in but had avoided all the booby traps protecting the lab’s entrance. He wore a business suit and had curly blonde hair. He now stood next to the woman sitting down. His eyes were closed as if he were asleep. That didn’t seem to hinder the precision of his movements. He had come in carrying a water skin, which he had opened, and he was now helping the young girl to drink.
As she slowly swallowed some of the lake’s water, her blank expression focused for a moment, and then, she closed her eyes. Having fulfilled his sleepwalking mission, the man dropped the water skin on the ground and, turning back, left the secret lab. On his way out, as he seamlessly and effortlessly again avoided the traps set by the lab master, he tripped on the same wire as before. As his figure disappeared in the shadows of the tunnel, the lamp's light glimmered one last time off the man’s silver pocket watch, and then he was gone.
After the sleepwalker had disappeared, a cloaked figure rushed into the lab no more than thirty seconds later. He tried to walk stealthily, a task not difficult with the background mechanical noise. The heavy determined steps gave him away as being a man. He dashed from shadow to shadow, always cautiously pointing his rifle in different directions, before he moved again. He made it to an aperture in the machinery where he could have his back toward the machine while keeping an eye out for the intruder.
As soon as he was sure that he was in a safe spot, he leaned his head in and put his ear against the machine. He quietly waited for a few seconds. To this man, what was noise to everyone else was a song rife with information. After all, he had built this machine, and only hearing its hum was enough for him to conclude that it hadn’t been tampered with. The noises from the machine also told the Black Merchant that the intruder hadn’t tried to conceal himself inside the machine, either. Smart. That would have been suicide. The Black Merchant would have found him and terminated him in a blink of an eye.
Now that he knew that the Cerberus was not compromised, he confidently turned his back to it and slowly sidestepped toward the console with the rifle ready to fire. He tried to resist the desperate urge to check in on his daughter. That could be the moment the invader was waiting for. His mind worked furiously. He had gone to great lengths to ensure no one else suspected this place existed. He was the only one who came here.
After some patient minutes, he reached the control console, pushed one of the buttons, and a thick paper strip came out. Precariously holding the rifle with only one hand while keeping an eye on his surroundings, he searched the ribbon with his finger finding the holes punctured by the machine. As his knowledgeable fingers ran through the length of the strip, he discovered that the lab had been broken into nine minutes earlier, and the invader had left four minutes later. No traps had been triggered.
“No need for all thessse theatricss.” The black merchant froze. On the one hand, the voice he was hearing was familiar, which touched his being to the core, instantly causing tears to form in his eyes. On the other hand, he couldn’t recognize the accent. It was strangely sibilant. Hearing the voice of his beloved daughter, the man threw all caution into the wind and ran for the chair where he had left Miriam. Before he could throw himself into her arms, he was stopped by her alien expression. This wasn’t Miriam. It couldn’t be.
“Who? How?” the black merchant stammered. “M-m-miriam?”
“You were a difficult man to disscover, Arssuriuss.”
