Mega 3: When Giants Collide (Mega Series) Page 6

  Other ocean creatures fled the area as fast as possible. Natural enemies that would have never stayed in close proximity to each other were forced to school in numbers that would have made marine biologists shit themselves. Fish of all sizes, from tiny, to what anglers called big game, hurried as fast as their fins and tails would take them to get away from the eating machine that had intruded upon their delicate ecosystem.

  The current surrounded the massive beast and it whipped its tail back and forth to add to the force and speed that drove it on. The lesser creatures that escaped before it, were inconsequential distractions and barely registered in its focused brain. The monster cared nothing for the animals of the ocean, it was made to find and feast on the human intruders that continued to pollute its water and home, but was it home?

  No matter how natural it felt to the shark to be swimming free in the open ocean, a small part of it longed for the sheltered bay that it had spent its short life in. It wanted to circle, circle, circle, over and over again, and wait for the screams from above the surface that signaled a meal was being thrown in. That was the focus and simplicity it truly craved.

  Circle, circle, circle, wait, listen, and then eat.

  That tiny part of its brain was overridden by the artificial need programmed into it to hunt down prey it had never seen, never known, and until a couple days before, had never wanted. The great monster could do nothing to stop its relentless drive to find the Beowulf III and devour it whole.

  Chapter Three- All In This Alone

  Carlos stood before Team Grendel, his arms crossed over his less than tone chest, and glared. He hated having to give demonstrations on equipment that any six year old could figure out.

  “The channel guns have been modified so they have more stopping power and no longer need to be submerged to be effective,” he said as his fellow weapon smith, Ingrid, held the large rifle in her hands. “The slugs are now aerodynamic as well as hydrodynamic.”

  “They fly and swim!” Max said.

  “It’s a bird! It’s a fish! It’s gonna kill the fuck outta some giant sharks!” Shane added.

  “Did you add the disco ball effect I suggested?” Max asked.

  “That was a great suggestion, by the way,” Shane said.

  “I know,” Max smiled. “I’m full of all kinds of great suggestions.”

  “You’re full of something,” Kinsey said.

  “Lame, Sis,” Max replied.

  “Yeah, that was not a burn worthy of our ears,” Shane said. “I say good day to you!”

  “Good day to you” Max echoed.

  “That’s my line, you just shake your fist and look offended,” Shane responded.

  “Like this?” Max asked as he shook his fist at Kinsey then arched an eyebrow.

  “That makes you look like a constipated chimpanzee,” Darby said.

  “Which makes me wonder how you know what a constipated chimpanzee looks like,” Shane said as he started to stroke his chin in an exaggeratedly thoughtful manner.

  “I lived with a troop for six months,” Darby shrugged.

  “You used to not encourage them,” Darren said to her. “I miss those days.”

  “I’ll still put my boot up either of their rectums if needed,” Darby replied.

  “Shhh, baby, now is not the time for sexy talk,” Max whispered loudly. “We’ll save that move for later.”

  “I want nothing to do with that,” Shane said as he held up his hands. “Let that be on the record that I-”

  “SHUT UP!” Carlos yelled then looked at the bored face of Thorne. “Aren’t you going to stop them from prattling on?”

  “I could,” Thorne said, “but this is your show, Carlos. You shut them up.”

  “Yes, Carlos,” Shane grinned as he politely took the channel gun from Ingrid’s hands. “Shut us up.”

  Ingrid giggled and rolled her eyes at Carlos.

  “Tell them the cool part,” she said.

  “There are many cool parts to our-” Carlos began.

  “You can remote detonate the channel gun rounds,” Ingrid said, her face lit up by an enthusiastic smile. “That means you can blow them up before they make contact with the target or you can let them pierce the target like a normal slug, but delay their detonation until the exact moment you desire.”

  “I like how you talk, lady,” Shane said, winking at Ingrid. “Nothing hotter than a gunsmith saying delayed detonation desire.”

  “That was a little misogynistic,” Ingrid said and frowned at Shane.

  “What? No, it was a joke,” Shane protested and looked at the others. “Tell her it was a joke.”

  “Your grave,” Lucy responded, “you sleep in it.”

  “No, stop, I didn’t mean anything by it,” Shane said. “I was just riffing with what she said.”

  “Gotcha!” Ingrid laughed. “You’re too easy.”

  “That’s what the chimpanzees said,” Max replied.

  “Okay, high-five on that one,” Shane said as he raised his hand and high-fived his brother then looked at his cousin. “See, Sis? That’s a burn.”

  “What else is there?” Lucy asked. “Let’s hurry this up so I can go take a nap.”

  “Dude, you’ve been asleep for like two days,” Shane said.

  “Your point?” Lucy replied.

  “Rarely does he have one,” Max said.

  “Again with the wit!” Shane laughed.

  “Ah, I hope I’m not too late and have missed the big reveal,” Ballantine said as he joined Team Grendel in the Toyshop. “I’ve obviously missed many jokes, though.”

  “Many jokes,” Max said.

  “So many jokes,” Shane added.

  “I hate them,” Carlos snarled.

  “Yes, well, they are a necessary evil,” Ballantine replied. “Where are we in the tech breakdown?”

  “Channel guns go boom when we want,” Max said.

  “Something important hold you up?” Thorne asked Ballantine.

  “Let’s table that for later,” Ballantine said. “I’d like Carlos to finish his presentation first.”

  “It’s not a presentation,” Carlos snapped. “I do not present. I’m not an emcee at a roast or a model at a car show.”

  Shane looked at Ingrid and started to open his mouth then closed it quickly.

  “He’s learning,” Darren said.

  “Oh, god, will you all be quiet?” Carlos yelled. “I want to go through this and get back to work!”

  Team Grendel all stood there and glared at the master weapon smith.

  “I believe you have the floor, Carlos,” Ballantine said, “go ahead.”

  “Channel guns you know, mustache rebreathers you know, compression suits you know,” Carlos said as he checked off a list of equipment the Team had used to fight off the cloned sharks before. “This thing, this technological marvel, is something totally new.”

  He stood there and looked about as smug as any human being could look. Then continued to stand there, and stand there, until he looked over at Ingrid who was standing and smiling as well, but not in a smug way.

  “Ingrid?” Carlos asked.

  “What?” she replied.

  “The sensory concussion grenade, please,” Carlos said.

  “The what?” Ingrid asked.

  “The sensory concussion grenade,” Carlos repeated.

  “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ingrid replied.

  Carlos sighed heavily. “The pineapple.”

  “Oh, that,” Ingrid grinned. “I’ll be right back.”

  “She totally set you up, dude,” Shane said as Ingrid hurried through the shelves of the Toyshop.

  “Yes, I know,” Carlos said.

  “Here!” Ingrid announced as she held out a small, bright yellow grenade in front of everyone. “It’s called the pineapple because regular fragmentation grenades are green and look like avocados, while this one is bright yellow and looks like a mini pineapple.”

  “It looks nothing like a p
ineapple,” Carlos muttered.

  “How does it work?” Ballantine prompted.

  “Triggering mechanism is here,” Ingrid said as she pointed at a recessed button on the side. “Don’t worry, it can’t accidentally go off. You have to push in so the button pops out then press again and the button locks back into place. Once it’s locked back in place, then you have about thirty seconds to get clear of the blast.”

  “Or your eyes, ears, and sense of smell will be overloaded,” Carlos added. “While that may not sound like much danger to you macho people, it is a hundred times worse than standing over a flash-bang.”

  “Who are you calling macho?” Kinsey asked. “Do these tits look macho to you?”

  “Too easy,” Max said, shaking his head. “You just make it too easy.”

  “We worry about you, Sis,” Shane added, “setting yourself up like that. It’s careless.”

  “Reckless,” Max nodded.

  “Senseless,” Shane added.

  “Not until a pineapple goes off,” Max replied.

  “Good one,” Shane winked.

  “Anyway, the shark that has been released after us is 115 feet long, so it’s not like one of those will stop it,” Ballantine announced. “It will take a coordinated effort to stun the creature so you can kill it.”

  All eyes turned to Ballantine and more than a few jaws dropped.

  “I’m sorry, but did you say 115 feet?” Darren asked. “That’s nearly double the size of the other sharks we’ve dealt with.”

  “Good to see arithmetic is alive and well with Team Grendel,” Ballantine responded.

  “Don’t be a dick, Ballantine,” Thorne grumbled, “tell it to them straight.”

  “It is a very large shark,” Ballantine said, “is that straight enough?”

  “Uh, a shark that big is going to require heavier ordinance than just some channel guns,” Darren stated. “Please tell me we have bigger guns.”

  “We do,” Carlos responded, “Moshi?”

  The diminutive woman stepped out from one of the shelving units and gave a shy wave.

  “Hey, Moshi,” Lucy smiled.

  “Moshi, my boshi!” Max said.

  “Dude, you can’t just make up words,” Shane responded.

  “Blerby blop,” Max said.

  “That’s better,” Shane grinned.

  Moshi walked forward and held out a three foot long steel rod. Team Grendel stared at it for a second then turned as one and looked at Ingrid.

  “Why are you looking at her?” Carlos asked. “I developed it.”

  “Yeah, but she’s not an asshole,” Shane said.

  “Exactly,” Max agreed.

  Ingrid didn’t bother to hide her grin as she took the rod from Moshi. “This is completely next gen tech,” she announced. “In fact, it could even be callednext next gen.”

  “We are impressed, Ingrid,” Ballantine said. “Let’s move along.”

  “Yes, sir, of course,” Ingrid nodded. “Stand back for a second.”

  No one argued and they all took a couple steps back.

  Ingrid waved the rod back and forth and in seconds the air lit up with blue sparks and strange green lines.

  “This is the particle field,” Ingrid said, “and anything that crosses this field will basically be evaporated.”

  “That is not technically accurate,” Carlos said. “A liquid would be evaporated, but a solid would be-”

  “I think she was dumbing it down for us,” Thorne interrupted. “How about you let her?”

  “I really wasn’t trying to dumb it down,” Ingrid said. “I just know you are in a hurry and didn’t want to bore you with detailed explanations that have no bearing on how it works.”

  “I believe all the details have bearing on how it works,” Carlos snapped.

  “Continue. Please,” Ballantine growled.

  Ingrid stopped waving the rod and the blue sparks and green lines disappeared almost immediately.

  “Let me demonstrate in the tank,” she said and walked back into the Toyshop. “Follow me.”

  “Will this be worth our time?” Ballantine asked Carlos. Carlos just shrugged. “Wonderful.”

  Team Grendel followed Ingrid through the shelves until they came to an open space about ten feet square. She tapped at a tablet and a large tank of clear liquid lifted from the floor.

  “We just keep those hanging around?” Max asked.

  “You know there’s like a ton of water outside the ship, right?” Shane said.

  “This isn’t water,” Ingrid smiled. “It’s a containment gel we use to keep projectiles and explosives from damaging the ship when we test them.”

  “Oh,” Max smiled, “cool.”

  “Can we come down here and play with it sometime?” Shane asked.

  “No,” everyone said at once.

  “Well, fuck you too,” Shane pouted.

  Ingrid grabbed a step ladder and climbed up so she could dip her hand and the rod into the gel. She started waving it again and the blue sparks and green lines reappeared. Then she flicked her wrist and the sparks and lines shot away from the rod.

  Everyone stared in disbelief as the gel in the sparks and lines’ path was vaporized, leaving a completely empty space. Then the gel above the space crashed down and the concussion rocked the sides of the vat, making everyone cover their ears as a loud bang echoed through the Toyshop.

  “Sorry,” Ingrid winced, “I should have suggested ear protection.”

  “That was a sonic boom,” Darren said. “How the hell…?”

  “The particle field,” Carlos began then cringed. “Evaporated every atom in its path, leaving a swathe of dead space.”

  “True dead space,” Ingrid smiled. “For a split second, there was nothing there. Absolutely nothing.”

  “Why isn’t Gunnar here?” Kinsey asked.

  “Not now, Ms. Thorne,” Ballantine smiled, “let them finish.”

  Kinsey glared at Ballantine, but let it go and nodded to Ingrid.

  “So that was a sonic boom?” Max asked.

  “More like thunder,” Ingrid answered, “but, to be honest, it’s actually like nothing else ever done before.”

  “You two didn’t come up with this, did you?” Thorne asked.

  Carlos frowned, Ingrid smiled, and they both looked around until they found Moshi peeking at them from behind a shelf.

  “Our very own Moshi developed this technology,” Ballantine said. “She has been working on it for some time now, well before her tenure on the Beowulfs.”

  “So we just have to wave a rod and flick our wrist and it wipes out everything in its path?” Shane asked. “Cool.”

  “How many do we have?” Darren asked. “Will we each get one?”

  “This is the only working model,” Carlos admitted, “and it is a prototype. We do not have any ready for the field.”

  “Tease,” Max said.

  “I was all hot and bothered and now I’m just bothered,” Shane said. “You, sir, have bothered me.”

  “The elves are working hard on duplicating the technology,” Ballantine said. “Hopefully we will have more very soon.” He glowered at Carlos. “Or at least one that’s field ready.”

  “Don’t call us elves,” Carlos whispered through gritted teeth.

  “Okay, so no heavy ordinance to kill the giant shark?” Shane asked.

  “They give us hope then take that hope away!” Max exclaimed. “Why? WHY?”

  “Are we finished here?” Ballantine asked as his phone rang. “Carlos?”

  “Yes, please,” Carols answered.

  “Good, then we should adjourn to the briefing room for today’s update,” Ballantine said, “and someone let Gunnar know, please.” He answered the phone. “William? Good, good… Protocol Fifty-four? Excellent… They know? Even more excellent…”

  Ballantine turned and left. Everyone focused on Ingrid.

  “Show us that again,” Thorne said.

  “Ballantine said there was an
update in the briefing room,” Ingrid replied.

  “Show us again,” Thorne said, “this time don’t dumb it down. We need details and we need to know the pros and the cons of this weapon for when we can use it. Educate us.”

  Carlos snorted then pretended he stifled a sneeze when he received a roomful of glares.

  “Go ahead,” he said to Ingrid, “I have something else to do, uh, somewhere else.”

  He hurried through the shelves, leaving Ingrid alone with Team Grendel.

  “Phew,” Max said, “I thought he’d never leave.”

  “Let’s kill some atoms,” Shane almost giggled.

  ***

  “I should be down there with them,” Mike said as he sat on a stool in the corner of Gunnar’s lab. “Technically, I’m part of Team Grendel.”

  “So am I,” Gunnar replied as he stood in front of a counter, a tablet in his hand, “but we have work to do.”

  “You have work to do,” Mike said as he rapped his knuckles on one of his robotic prosthetic legs. “I’m just here for maintenance.”

  “Which you wouldn’t need so often if you’d listen to me and keep your legs from getting wet,” Dr. Morganton said as she rolled a cart of equipment into the lab. “I am getting tired of telling you that, Michael.”

  “We live on a ship,” Mike replied. “It’s a little hard to keep my legs dry.”

  “Which is why I am trying to develop a prophylactic that will do the job for you,” Dr. Morganton said as she stopped the cart next to Mike and opened a large case on top. “This should be the answer.”

  “Prophylactic?” Mike asked. “You want to put rubbers on my legs?”

  “Yes, Michael, I want to put rubbers on your legs,” Dr. Morganton replied.

  She pulled out a long piece of skin tone rubber and smiled at him.

  Gunnar looked over his shoulder and laughed. “I heard the sarcasm in your voice, Lisa, but that does look suspiciously like a leg rubber.”

  “It’s synthetic skin,” Dr. Morganton replied. “If you’ll extend your left leg, Michael.”

  He looked at Gunnar, but all he got was a shrug.

  “Fine,” Mike said, “rubber me up.”