Mute (40 page)

Moni
detected a massive source along the center of the lagoon as if it were a
freight train sitting in the street. She couldn’t access it like she could with
the others. It contained something more powerful than the basic human mind.

She
suddenly snapped awake. When her senses returned, the first thing Moni realized
was that Mariella had let go of her hand.

“What
gives?” Moni stepped back from Mariella, who responded with a shrug. “Don’t get
me wrong. That blew my mind, but why’d you stop?”

Moni
understood that she hadn’t been prepared for some things. If she had gotten
drawn too deeply into their world, it could make her ordinary sensations feel
dull by comparison.

“I
am prepared,” Moni said. “I don’t wanna feel more pain or hear more
intolerance. All my life, people have hated on me. Take me out of this. Please
let me be with you.”

She
took both of the girl’s hands in hers. This time, she didn’t pull away.

Chapter 39

Aaron never showed up early for school if he could
help it. But this was more than a run-of-the-mill class, or even a mission.

Leaning against his car next to the dangling side
view mirror that Moni’s psychotic ex had smashed, he watched the red hue of the
sun climbing over the horizon to signal the start of morning. The crimson light
scattered across the healthy waters of the Indian River Lagoon along the
Atlantic
Marine Research Institute’s headquarters in Fort Pierce. Aaron wondered what
awaited him underneath the waters further north.

The
answer made the bacteria that he had dreaded earlier seem like bath oil by
comparison. After a late night of research, he and Professor Swartzman had
confirmed the presence of nano-cyborgs in an infected rat—just like the Lagoon
Watcher had described. They were herding the bacteria and calling the shots in
the animal’s brain. They must have ordered the rat to stop breathing, because
it suffocated to death once they started messing with its tiny masters. About a
minute after the host died, they disappeared.

Following
that, Swartzman doused the whole lab with sterilizer and made everyone shower
off.

The
close encounter thrilled the scientists, but it didn’t sway Sneed or
Brigadier General Colon. They didn’t believe
something so small could mastermind the wave of attacks. So Aaron and his
professor set out to prove the second part of the Lagoon Watcher’s story—the
“colony” in the deepest part of the lagoon. If they put photos in their hands,
they couldn’t deny that the source of the problem lies below the water, rather
than above it.

It bummed out Aaron that he hadn’t told Moni a word
of this. He figured that she needed some time with Mariella after rescuing her.
That served as a convenient excuse. How could he tell Moni that the girl she
loved probably had microscopic cyborgs inside her? She cared about the girl so
much, that she would never forgive him if he broke the news that severed their
bond, he thought. What’s the urgency? It’s not like Mariella has endangered
anybody.

After making sure that Swartzman hadn’t arrived
yet, Aaron took out his cell phone and dialed her up. He couldn’t tell her
everything, but she still needed his support after nearly losing Mariella for
the second time in two days.

“Hello.” Moni answered the phone as if she didn’t
recognize his number.

“Hey there. Sorry to wake you.” Aaron stopped
himself. He heard a humming engine on the other line. “Okay, scratch that.
Sorry to disturb your absurdly early morning drive. What has you hopping to it
at the crack of dawn?”

He waited for her to take an easy shot at him by
asking why he was up before noon. “There’s somewhere I need to go,” said Moni,
who must have left her wit at home.

“Yeah, that’s usually why people drive,” he
replied. “So how is Mariella?”

“Uh, Mariella.” She stumbled over her words as if
she were coming out of a trance. “She’s right here. Don’t worry about her. I’ll
make sure she’s safe.”

That didn’t exactly answer his question. If she
didn’t feel like telling him, then he better not freak her out by pressing her.
What set off even more of his alarm buzzers was that she didn’t have any
questions for him, such as: “Have you found Mrs. Mint in the forest?” or “How’d
your interrogation of the Lagoon Watcher go?”

He should tell her anyway, Aaron thought. The woman
is in shock. He promised himself that he’d go directly to Moni after he
captured some photos of the monstrosity in the lagoon and showed them to the
authorities. Until then, he could only drop on his knees and pray that she
keeps out of the fray.

“I think you know by now that Mariella isn’t safe
yet. None of us are,” Aaron said. “Jailing the Lagoon Watcher hasn’t ended
this. So whatever you do, keep a close eye on Mariella. Make sure she doesn’t
act, you know, strange.” As if she had ever acted normal, he thought. “And
don’t go near the lagoon. The stuff in there is nastier than we thought.”

“That’s good advice. You should follow it too… Please.”

Aaron glanced at the full body wetsuit in his back
seat and then replied, “You got it.”

“Good,” she said with a sigh. “I’m sure we’ll have
a lot to talk about later. See ya.”

She hung up before he got out a goodbye.

* * * *

Around the time they crossed the Sebastian Inlet
marking the ocean’s final lifeline into the lagoon, Aaron wished he had
followed Moni’s advice. He had expected the smell, even though it reeked worse
than ever, but something about the channel of water made him feel as if a
spider had crawled up his neck. He didn’t see any fish splashing, and the only
birds that approached the lagoon flew like drunks. Not only were they the only
craft on the water, no one who lived along the lagoon dared venture into their
backyards or leave their windows open. Some of the houses looked abandoned. In
some cases, the backyards had been ransacked, with the fences, piers and
anything with iron or fuel stripped away.

His fluttering stomach pleaded with him to turn the
boat around. The little baddies in the lagoon had killed cops and firefighters;
a surfing student wouldn’t stand much of a chance. Of course, none of them had
known the source of what they were up against—not that Aaron had any idea how
he could take advantage of that knowledge.

But who would step up if he chickened out? Aaron
didn’t know another jabroni stupid enough to dive into the heart of the toxic
lagoon, and photo the tiny terrors in their nest.

As Aaron adjusted the hood on his wetsuit,
Professor Swartzman undid a button on the collar of his polo shirt to air out
his hairy chest on this already-steamy morning. The professor had swimming
trunks on, just in case, and they had a spare wetsuit in the skiff’s trunk, but
Aaron knew that he wouldn’t jump into the water if he could help it. Seeing
those bizarre life forms in the rat last night had left Swartzman speechless.
The way he freaked out when they left their dead host, Aaron figured his
professor wouldn’t even let his toes got wet.

Aaron didn’t have an opt-out card, but he was cool
with it. Since he started at the institute, Swartzman had always invited other
students on his missions—sometimes going back to them twice—before getting
around to Aaron. He never got the prime slots for dolphin study, or the
week-long jaunts in the Caribbean. That’s why he got stuck on sea turtle duty.
This time, the professor invited Aaron, and didn’t bother with anyone else. It
could have been that Swartzman finally had confidence in his totally awesome
scientific skills but Aaron didn’t get caught up in that delusion. Even if the
professor had invited the other students, only Aaron had the balls to jump into
the lagoon with the invaders.

If
I pull this off, I won’t be a last resort any more. I’ll be a first-teamer.
When my dad asks me why he’s paying my tuition, I’ll show him my name on a
published research paper and make him eat it.

“Make sure that your wetsuit covers your entire
body. I mean 100 percent,” Professor Swartzman said as he studied the water
rushing by the skiff while they pressed on northward. Instead of its usual
soupy dark green, the lagoon had grown yellowish and what resembled a yellow
fog swirled through the water. “You don’t want those unclassified organisms
getting in there.”

He didn’t use the word “unclassified” very often.
The man had a biology encyclopedia lodged in his brain,but no one had a better
name for those things besides the Lagoon Watcher’s “cyborgs” comparison.

When he strapped his wetsuit hood tightly against
his scuba mask, Aaron figured that the body invaders wouldn’t get him. He
worried more about their big, toothy friends.

“I’ll be as dry as a nun’s cooter in this suit,”
Aaron said. “And if anybody tries unwrapping me, I got something for them.” He
patted his speargun. Aaron had fooled around with it on his own and nabbed a
catfish, but Swartzman hadn’t let him officially take one on the water until
now.

“If you need any backup, I’ve got this.” Swartzman
pointed to the rifle strapped to the side of the skiff. Aaron doubted his
professor had actually fired one of those before. If he did, the kickback might
throw his putty-strength body overboard.

“You sure you can handle that bad boy?”

“Well…” The professor pushed his sunglasses further
up his nose. “I didn’t think you could handle these missions at first. The dean
initially forced me to take you along so you wouldn’t flunk. And go figure,
you’re the most valuable student we have when it comes to the most important
investigation in the institute’s history. If a lollygagger like you can pick up
this job so quickly, an old man losing his sea legs can fire a gun when he has
to.”

The smile stuck on Aaron’s face until they passed
beneath the Eau Gallie Causeway. A few minutes later, the professor cut the
motor and the skiff drifted to a stop. The time had come.

Aaron made sure his scuba mask was air tight, and
then slipped on his flippers. He tethered the speargun, and the underwater camera
to his belt. Then he took few deep breaths of the concentrated oxygen in his
tank.

Having finished his mental checklist, and passed
the professor’s inspection, Aaron sat on the edge of the skiff with his
flippers dangling just above the yellowish water. Before every other dive in
his life, Aaron hadn’t hesitated for a second at that point. Back then, he
couldn’t wait until he dove underwater, and soared through the blue overtop
gardens of coral or sea grass. This time, Aaron choked. The blood vessels in
his head swelled and pulsated. He had a feeling that something lived down there
that he wasn’t meant to see.

He had no idea what the Lagoon Watcher had meant by
a “colony” in the depths of the channel. Trainer hadn’t explained how he had
found it, or whether he had gone down there himself or simply lowered a camera.
Aaron would have preferred the latter option, but the professor said it
wouldn’t work. The last time a research mission tried that in an infected
section of the lagoon, the rope came up sans camera.

That story didn’t make Aaron feel any better about
his chances.

“Are you feeling okay?” Swartzman asked.

“I’m fine,” replied Aaron, who noted that he didn’t
ask him whether he still wanted to go through with this. Despite his nerves,
Aaron was glad he didn’t ask. Moni needs this. She won’t be safe, and Mariella
won’t be cured until he flushes the cyborgs back to wherever the hell they came
from.

“Keep a sharp eye out up here, prof,” Aaron said.
“I’ll be back in a jiff.”

He popped his mouthpiece in, and dropped into the
lagoon. Immediately, he found that the changes on the surface were nothing
compared to what had occurred below. Instead of sea grass, and a sandy bottom,
he found the underside of the lagoon lined with what resembled blurry, yellow
stained glass. When he brushed his gloved hand against it, it didn’t give. He
smacked it harder. The smooth surface didn’t vibrate. He noticed the sand
shifting beneath the glass. He wished he could sample that dirt. If he could,
Aaron would bet his left nut that it contained a ton of sulfur and iron.

Aaron snapped a few photos of the strange lagoon
bed. He knew that wasn’t the main attraction, though. For that, he skimmed
along a foot off the bottom until he came to a slope where the lagoon floor
descended from a depth of seven feet down to twelve feet. Without following the
slope down, Aaron couldn’t see far enough through the hazy yellow water to view
the bottom of the channel.

His skull rattled, as if the jet engine of a 747
roared a foot from his head and his teeth trembled. Even though he didn’t feel
any change in the water, Aaron thrashed his arms and legs and frantically
backed away from the edge of the channel. Quickly regaining his senses, he
remembered that struggling would use up his oxygen faster. He steadied himself.
Aaron let his heart and breathing rates ease. The racket in his head faded into
silence. He stared at the hazy channel and treaded water.

Aaron remembered his father’s words when he made
him try out for little league. He had earned a starting spot with solid play in
practice, but he had struck out in all three at bats in his first game and
quit. His father had told him, “Sure, you stick with it when it’s going your
way, but you always give up when things get hard. If you don’t suck it up, and
go back out there, you’ll never learn how to pick yourself up.”