Bad Karma

Monterey, California

Docked along a stretch of pier, the 163-foot research vessel, William Beebe, glistened beneath the cloudless morning sky, its three upper decks buzzing with activity.  Technicians in the bow were busy mounting a towering twenty-five-foot satellite communications antenna, designed to link the ship to SOSUS, the Navy's network of undersea microphones.  Low-frequency signals emitted by the transmitter attached to the Megalodon's hide were already being detected by the underwater sound-surveillance system.  Traveling by way of fiber-optic cable, the sounds fed into a global arrangement of processing stations situated along the Pacific coast.  With the antenna in place, the working stations could uplink the acoustical information via satellite to computers on board the William Beebe, allowing the crew to track the animal nearly anywhere in the world.

Jonas made his way slowly along the wooden pier, limping heavily, a duffel bag slung over his right shoulder.  The morning sun felt good on his face.  He found the cawing of gulls and the creak of boards beneath his feet somehow comforting.

As he approached the vessel, he noticed a familiar figure seated alone on one of the benches facing out to sea.

"Masao?"

Without looking up, the elder Japanese patted the bench, signaling his son-in-law to take a seat.

Masao stared at the bandaged leg.  "Why are you doing this, Jonas?" he asked, his voice raspy and weak.

Jonas noticed Masao's hands were shaking.  "I think we both know the answer to that."

Masao continued staring at the Pacific.  "There is much bad karma surrounding this voyage.  You have looked death in the face twice now.  I've already lost one son because of this monster.  I do not wish to lose another."

Jonas looked into the old man's almond eyes.  "I began this, only I can end it."

"In your mind, I know you believe that to be true.  There's too much hate in your heart to see clearly.  There's no reason to jeopardize your life again.  If you can't think of yourself, then think of my daughter."

"I am."

They watched the one-man submersible, Abyss Glider – I, as it was lowered onto the aft deck of the ship.  The sight caused Jonas's heart to race.  "Why is that being loaded on board?"

"Celeste says the sub is needed to secure the creature in its harness once it has been harpooned and drugged."  Masao saw fear wash over his son-in-law's face.  "What is it?"

"I . . . never mind.  It's nothing."

"Tell me."

Jonas rubbed his bloodshot eyes.  "The night terrors I've been experiencing . . . in a lot of them I'm piloting the Abyss Glider into the Trench."

Masao squeezed Jonas's hand.  "Terry told me about your dreams.  That is why I would only permit the AG-1  to be loaded on board, not its deep-water version."

"Thank you."

"Still, I don't want you to pilot that sub—"

"He doesn't have to."  Celeste came strolling down the pier, accompanied by a man in his late forties.  "Meet Richard Diefendorf, our new submersible pilot.  Dief, this is Masao Tanaka and Dr. Jonas Taylor."

"Hey, Doc, a real pleasure to meet you."  Diefendorf placed his cigarette into his mouth so he could shake Jonas's hand.

Jonas couldn't help but stare at the man's partially bald scalp that brandished a fresh sunburn and knotlike welt.  "Richard, have you ever piloted one of these one-man subs?"

"Hey, call me Dief, all my friends do.  Yeah, I've piloted the Abyss Glider a few times, but never in water as deep as you have.  Celeste tells me this job is fairly routine.  I'm curious why you guys even need me along?"

Jonas looked up at Celeste.  "There's nothing routine about capturing a seventy-two-foot shark."

"Don't let him worry you, Dief," she said.  "The creature will be drugged long before we lower you into the water."

"If it's so easy, why not have Dr. Taylor—"

"We need Dr. Taylor on board to coordinate the shark's capture," Celeste said, flattening the short gray hairs sticking out along the side of Dief's balding head.  "Besides, Jonas is wounded."

A deep thrumming echoed off the water.  They looked up to see a small white helicopter with green trim circling down to the forward deck of the William Beebe.

"Is it really necessary to bring Mackreides along?" Celeste asked.

"We need Mac to help us pinpoint the Meg's location."

"No offense, Jonas, but I don't trust the man.  I'd prefer my own helicopter and pilot."

"Mac and I are a team.  If he doesn't go, neither do I."

"Fine, fine, just get on board already."  Celeste marched off toward the ship, Dief in tow.

Masao stood.  "I wish you'd reconsider."

"I'm sorry Mas.  I'm sorry about a lot of things.  It was my fault you had to sell the institute to Singer."

"Stop.  No one is to blame.  Since you won't listen to reason, go and do what you must, just come home in one piece.  Terry and I will be waiting."

Jonas started to say something, then thought better of  it.  He squeezed the old man's shoulder and headed for the end of the dock.

*        *        *        *        *

As the newest addition to the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institute's Shipboard Science fleet, the William Beebe was a floating laboratory designed for a wide range of ocean research missions.  The vessel was divided into three upper and three lower decks.  An enormous mast rose high at its center, holding lights, navigation antennas, a crow's nest, and the ship's radar.  Below the mast, occupying the smallest of the upper decks, was the control room and pilothouse.  One deck below was the officer's quarters, followed by the third or main deck, which housed the staterooms and ship's labs.  At the stern of the main deck stood an enormous A-frame and winch designed to raise and lower heavy equipment overboard.  Two motorized rubber rafts hung suspended on either side of the ship, along with a heavy cargo net.  The net would be used to tow the galley, the sick bay, and an enormous engine room comprised most of the lower decks.

Jonas boarded at the stern, pausing to watch a high-tech harpoon gun being mounted into the deck.  When readied, the barbed head of the harpoon would be filled with a massive dose of tranquilizers.

Two of the ship's officers approached.

"Professor Taylor, I'm George Morgan, Captain of the William Beebe.  This is my first officer, Harry Moon.  Harry's had quite a bit of experience with SOSUS back at Woods Hole."

Harry extended his hand.  "I know you've been through this before.  Any advice you care to share with us?"

"Yes.  After you harpoon the beast, move your vessel away as fast as you can."

"Why?" Harry asked, tugging at a gray hair in his bushy eyebrow.

"The drugs caused the first creature to react violently.  It attacked and crippled the Kiku, which was a lot larger than this vessel."

"That's because you had no idea what you were doing."  A man in his late twenties joined them.  He was wearing a tie-dyed shirt, his shoulder-length brown hair pulled back into a tight ponytail.

"Professor Taylor, this is Mike Maren—"

"Doctor Maren, if you don't mind.  I'm an ichthyologist.  You amaze me, Taylor, you really do.  Four years ago you shot up an adult Carcharodon megalodon with near lethal doses of Ketamine and pentobarbital, and you wonder why the fish went ballistic on you.  Unbelievable."

Jonas felt his temper flaring.  "At the time, no one could have predicted how the creature would react."

"You should have tested your concoction on smaller sharks first, or, at the very least, contacted us at Woods Hole.  If you had, we would have advised you against using the pentobarbital.  It's amazing your little chemical cocktail didn't kill the animal.  Instead, it wore off prematurely, allowing the fish to slaughter a few more innocent people—"

Jonas stepped forward, pushing Maren backward with one hand.  "Do you have a problem?"

"Yeah, I have a problem with gutless stupidity—"

Jonas grabbed Maren by the shirt collar with both hands and lifted him off his feet.

It took the combined effort of Captain Morgan and Harry Moon to get Jonas to release his grip on the stunned scientist, whose tie-dyed T-shirt was torn apart in his assailant's hands.

"You're nuts, Taylor!" Maren yelled.  "And you're dangerous.  It's your fault all those people died—"

"Maren, get out of here," the captain yelled.

Jonas pointed a finger menacingly at the younger scientist's face.  "Stay out of my way or I'll shove a hook up your ass and use you for bait."

Mac joined the group as Maren skulked back to his lab.  "Damn.  Looks like I missed all the fun."

"I want to apologize for Maren's behavior," Captain Morgan said.  "You should know that he's as brilliant as he is obnoxious."

"He's devised a method to feed medication continuously into the Megalodon, once we harpoon it," Harry added.  "It's like a giant IV tube.  We won't have to worry about the creature waking, and the mixture of drugs should put it to sleep right away—without the violent side effects you had to go through."

"Wonderful," Jonas said.  "When do we get under way?"

Captain Morgan checked his watch.  "Twenty minutes.  Harry, would you show these gentlemen to their quarters."

Jonas picked up his duffel and followed the first officer inside.