Jeff Rovin - Vespers

The statue’s stone pedestal rests in the center of the starshaped Fort Wood that once guarded the entrance to New York Harbor. More than a century after being decommissioned, the fort was once again guarding the lives of those inside.

According to Gordy Weeks, the giant bat was using her hooks to make her way up and around the statue’s pedestal, and she appeared to be holding a human body in her claws. Weeks told Gentry he’d update him in a moment.

Sergeant Gilheany moaned when she heard about Officer Berk. She started for the door.

“Where are you going?” Gentry asked.

“No way am I letting that thing take him.”

T-Bone got in front of her. “You can’t do anything about it now.”

“Like hell. I can kill that monster.”

“No,” T-Bone said, “you can’t. You can get your own ass seriously killed though, and I ain’t gonna let you.”

“Sergeant, the man’s right,” Joyce said. “If you step outside, those little bats will be all over you.”

The sergeant looked from T-Bone to Joyce. Then she looked ahead as she wiped blood from a gash across her nose.

“You dumb rookie,” she said to the door. “I ordered you to come back. Why the hell didn’t you listen?”

“Because he knew what every cop knows,” Gentry said. “If we don’t block the shot, the bad guys score.”

“Save the pep talk for the cadets, Detective. If the four of you hadn’t come in like a bunch of-”

“What? Scared people who just got our butts kicked?”

“Yeah, something like that…”

The sergeant stopped speaking as a new sound came from above. It was high, muffled, and continuous. It sounded like a dumpster lid slowly being opened and shut.

“What the hell?” T-Bone said.

Weeks came back on. “Detective, it looks like the bat’s gone into the pedestal.”

“We’re hearing that,” Gentry said.

Just then the creaking stopped. A moment later so did the scratching outside the lobby.

“Now what?” Kathy asked.

“Maybe it’s naptime,” T-Bone said.

“No,” Joyce said. She turned quickly to Gentry. “It’s birth time. The statue’s right on the water. It’s cold down here, warmer up there. By how much, Sergeant?”

“About thirty degrees.”

“Which would make it well over eighty inside,” Joyce said. “That’s perfect for a new nest.”

“Detective, is that Dr. Joyce?” Weeks asked.

“It is.” Gentry held the radio closer to her.

“Tell her the small bats are starting to leave the statue. Some are heading back, some to Jersey, some to the other islands. Ask her if she has any idea why.”

“I do,” Joyce said. “The big bat’s dropped out of the ultrasonic range. She’ll be making vocal sounds while she gives birth, which means we’ve got to take her outnow. Otherwise we’ll have to deal with herand her wailing brood.”

“I hear you,” Weeks said. “I’m sending the SWAT teams right away.”

“They won’t get here in time,” Joyce told him. “If the bat’s like a normal vesper, we have about ten minutes to get to her.”

Gentry turned to Gilheany. “How do I get up there?”

“You don’t.” She came forward, her fingers wriggling for the shotgun. “This is my beat. I’m going up.”

Joyce fell in beside her. “I’m going with you.”

“I take it you’re a scientist?” Gilheany asked.

“Yes.”

“Good,” the sergeant said. “Then you can tell her ‘fuck you’ in bat talk before I blow her away.”

Gentry looked from Joyce to Gilheany. “All right,” he said as he handed the officer the shotgun. “But I’m going with you.”

“No you’re not. You’re limping.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You’ll slow us down. And you don’t have a weapon,” Gilheany pointed out. “I can’t watch your back and hers.” She pulled her radio from a loop in her gunbelt. “Besides, I may need you down here. There are security cameras in the communications center. It’s located in the administration building about two hundred yards directly behind the fort. Code 6453359 will get you in. Go there. We’ll stay in touch.”

Gentry hesitated. He looked at Nancy.

“Robert, we haven’t got a lot of time,” the scientist said.

Nancy was right. What rubbed Gentry raw was not that she was going. It was that she was going with an officer who was on the warpath. And he was afraid that saying something about calming down or being careful would only piss Gilheany off more.

So Gentry just nodded. Then he and Gilheany set their radios on the same channel.

The women turned and jogged toward the short staircase that led to the pedestal as Gentry brought Weeks up to date. Then he switched the radio back to Gilheany’s frequency.

Kathy and T-Bone wished them good luck as they passed. T-Bone had picked up his camera and was video-taping their departure.

Before they disappeared through the gate at the top of the stairs, Gentry thoughtFuck it and called after them. “She’s going to smell you coming, Nancy. Don’t forget that!”

“I won’t!” she called back. “I’m counting on it.”

Joyce hadn’t been to the Statue of Liberty since her first-grade field trip. All she remembered from that visit was the very long, very winding, very hot climb to the top. It was still long, winding, and hot.

The women took the stairs toward the top of the pedestal. The staircase wound around a wide, open shaft for the elevator that went to the observation deck at the top of the pedestal. They made their way cautiously in case the bat had decided to come down instead of up. She hadn’t. As they neared the balcony level that led to the statue itself, Gentry radioed. They stopped while Gilheany took the call.

“We’re in the communications center,” Gentry said, “and the security cameras are all dark.”

“Impossible,” Gilheany said. “Each of them has an internal power system.”

“Then maybe it’s the statue that’s dark,” Gentry replied.

“I don’t see how,” Gilheany said. “The transformers are in the base of the monument. I’m looking at them now.”

“What about the cables that service the lights?”

“They run up the statue’s central column,” she said. “They’re encased in inch-thick steel pipe.”

Joyce said, “I haven’t met a metal yet that could stop that bat. Maybe she slashed it on her way up.”

“On purpose?” Gilheany asked.

“No,” Joyce said. “But the inside of the statue would be a very tight space for her to maneuver. She could have used the column as a hookhold or punctured it by accident.”

“ Nancy, this is not looking good,” Gentry said.

“And we’re wasting time,” Sergeant Gilheany said. She slipped a flashlight from her gunbelt. She switched the shotgun to her left hand. “I’m still going up. Are you coming?”

“I am,” Joyce said. “But I’ll take the light.”

Gilheany handed it to her along with the radio. Gentry said nothing.

They moved from the pedestal into the sculpture itself. The stairs had ascended along the sides of the pedestal. Now they fed into the ceiling and up the very steep spiral staircase that led to the crown. Gilheany was in the lead. As they proceeded, Joyce circled the flashlight slowly from the steps to the copper skin of the statue to the stairs over-head.

The steps ascended in a tight, dizzying spiral up the central steel core. Almost at once they saw that the central column had been breached. There was a gouge in the side, and it appeared as if the rent metal had sliced the cables. Sparks sizzled from the frayed ends and Joyce wondered if the statue had ever seen a lonelier fireworks display.