Edward Lee - Slither

"Wow," Loren said.

No one stood waiting for them, but they immediately saw old desks and tables pushed together to form a platform for some very fancy-looking security monitors.

'These are the highest-tech LCD flat screens I've ever seen," Nora said of the dozen one-foot-square panels. Each panel framed a different area of the island.

"We were right," Nora said. "All those little cameras are operational."

"They're monitoring the entire island." Loren leaned toward the glowing screens. "Look, there's the shower, our campsite, and-shit!" He pointed to a frame. "I was just there! That's where the girl killed herself, on that boat."

Nora saw the canopied Boston Whaler anchored in a small lagoon. "We never even knew that lagoon was here."

"Here's another lagoon," Loren said and pointed. "And another boat…"

This panel showed another lagoon hemmed in by trees and mangrove roots. Tied off to one of the roots was a small, unoccupied skiff.

"Jesus, there really have been a lot of people on this island," Nora guessed.

"Yeah, and they're probably all dead now, infected. The girl who shot herself said they were being used for a scientific test, and that these military people in the gas masks were monitoring them."

"Which means they've been monitoring us too," Nora reminded him.

They both chewed on the thought for a while. The silence began to unnerve Nora.

"Why monitor the north beach and not the others?" she said next, looking at the one frame that showed the shore.

"Well, for one, that's where the bristleworm nest " was.

"Yeah, and it's also where the trench is, where these guys parked their submersible." She'd almost forgotten about that. "They came here in it, in secret, to set up. But I'm sure there's a lot more than this," she said of the room itself. Security equipment was suspicious. But Nora needed more proof.

Proof of genetic experiments.

'Let's look in some more rooms."

"Or let's not," Loren posed. 'Ms is crazy coming here in the first place. We're going to get caught. We already know the navy or army or some military agency is engaged in a secret project. So let's just go."

'You go, then. Go back to the campsite and wait for Lieutenant Trent. I'll only be another few minutes."

Loren scowled. "Shit. Come on, I'll go with you."

They left the room and went into the next. More screens on more tables, and old shelves filled with cases almost like tackle boxes.

"More of that code," Loren said when he looked at a screen.

"It must be their research data after being encrypted."

The screen was filled the same dots and dashes they'd seen on the cameras and the key.

The first line on the screen read:

"I wish I could take a picture of this," Nora said. "Or print it out."

Loren looked around. "I don't see a printer hooked up to any of this gear."

She pointed. "Look and see what's on those shelves. I'll check this closet."

A rusted door narrower than the others stood in the corner. I was wrong it's not a closet, she thought when she opened it. It was another room, illumined by more of the small round lightbulbs. Hanging along the wall were several black rubberized suits with hoods, and widely visored gas masks. From pegs on the opposite wall dangled narrow black belts, and connected to the belts were fabric pockets containing tools.

The tools, too, were black. Nora slipped one out. What the hell is this? A ruler? The tool extended via a slide mechanism, but for the life of her she didn't know what it might be used for.

These narrow doors must connect all the rooms, she gathered when she opened another door like the one she'd used to enter here. She was looking into the first room they'd searched, with all the surveillance monitors.

"Nora," Loren whispered. "I think I hit pay dirt."

She went back out. Loren had taken down one of the cases and opened it. It reminded her of the bloodsample cases that doctors' offices sent to labs. When the case had been opened, racks popped up on either side. The racks contained what she could only guess were-

"Specimen tubes," Loren said, holding one up. "They're square instead of round, but it's obvious that's what these are. Check it out."

Nora took the tube. Floating in a fluid that looked like light mouthwash was a spotted ovum identical to those they'd seen all over the island.

"Here's another one."

The next tube contained a half-inch-long worm.

"There's your proof," Loren said, "so let's go."

Nora looked at more tubes, which all contained either pristine examples of ova or worms. Are they alive? she wondered. Preserved? Are they prototypes? Ultimately, it didn't matter.

And Loren was correct: Here was proof of what she'd come here to find out. A military test in the field. A worm that's obviously a cross-species, the product of either a mutation process or a genetic splice…

And humans are what they're testing it on.

Loren put the case back, then squeezed her arm. "How can I put it more eloquently, Nora? We have to get the fuck out of here."

"All right, all right…"

He practically dragged her out of the room. The door remained opened at the end of the hall, light pouring in. Nora peeked in the first room as they brushed by; then she tugged back at him.

"Wait a second-"

"Damn it, Nora!" he whispered. "We're going to get caught in here!"

"I don't think anyone's here right now," she said.

"Then where are they?"

"Outside. Look at that…"

She was pointing to the security monitors in the first room. Loren edged in behind her, seeing what she meant. "That's one of them," he said.

On one of the higher screens, a man was kneelinga man in a gas mask and decon suit. He was kneeling at a large slab of concrete.

'fhat's the RTG, isn't it?" Loren noticed.

"It sure is." A chill went up her back. "We were just there a few minutes ago."

"And look, there's two more of them-"

Yet another screen briefly showed two more masked and hooded men moving down a trail.

"Three of them total," Nora counted.

"Plus the one I shot…"

Both of them looked back at the RTG screen, and the mysterious figure kneeling before it. A gloved hand produced a small black box and rested it on the slab. Then he opened the box and withdrew a black disk that looked like a hockey puck.

"What the hell is he doing?" Loren asked.

"That disk," Nora said. "What's that rod he just pulled out of it?"

They both stared. The man extracted a short rod from the disk; from the end of the disk, he seemed to remove a cap.

Then he pushed the rod against the slab's cement face. A moment later, the disk had been mounted onto the concrete.

"The rod must be some kind of stand," Nora said. "And… shit. I've got a bad vibe about this."

Loren looked right at her. "Me too. Nora, why do I have a funny feeling that black thing is a bomb?"

"I… don't know…" She was thinking the exact same thing. "It's not big enough to be a bomb is it?"

"A piece of C-4 the size of a hockey puck? It could probably break that concrete slab in half."

"And then the pressure from the explosion might split the fuel-source casing."

"Instant dirty nuke. Shit, Nora. If that really is what he's doing…-…"

"It would look like a terrorist operation," she realized. "The radioactive dust from an explosion like that would contaminate the entire island."

"And anyone or anything on it would die from radiation sickness in a matter of days."

This is madness, she thought, still staring at the screen.

Then the man in the gas mask got up and walked away, leaving the disk propped up on the slab.