Lemuria Read online

  Lemuria

  John Triptych

  Published by John Triptych, 2018.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  LEMURIA

  First edition. July 17, 2018.

  Copyright © 2018 John Triptych.

  Written by John Triptych.

  Also by John Triptych

  Ace of Space

  The Piranha Solution

  Virago One

  Alien Rebellion

  Wetworld

  Grotto of Silence

  Expatriate Underworld

  The Opener

  The Loader

  The Dying World

  Lands of Dust

  City of Delusions

  The Maker of Entropy

  The Dying World Omnibus

  Wrath of the Old Gods

  The Glooming

  Canticum Tenebris

  A World Darkly

  Wrath of the Old Gods Boxed Set 1

  Wrath of the Old Gods (Young Adult)

  Pagan Apocalypse

  The Fomorians

  Eye of Balor

  Wrath of the Old Gods: Box Set 2

  Standalone

  The Girl in the Darkness

  Lemuria

  Watch for more at John Triptych’s site.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Also By John Triptych

  Dedication

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  28

  29

  30

  31

  32

  33

  34

  35

  36

  37

  38

  39

  40

  41

  42

  43

  44

  45

  46

  47

  48

  49

  50

  51

  52

  53

  54

  55

  56

  57

  Sign up for John Triptych's Mailing List

  Further Reading: The Girl in the Darkness

  About the Author

  In loving memory of Laura.

  1

  DR. LAUREN REEVES HAD been trained to deal with all sorts of emergencies, but her myriad skills and experience could not ever have prepared her for what was happening at that very moment. Death was near, so close she could feel its cold, wet fingers reaching out to her.

  The corridor was flooded, the watery black muck up to her waist. One of her shoes had been ripped away when the inner laboratory was hit by the deluge that knocked out most of the installation's power, and the sharp pain she felt on her bare ankle meant she would have to make it out of there on only one good leg. It had taken mere minutes for the odds of her survival to be reduced to a single percentile, and the fear began to gnaw at her very bones.

  Pulling out her smartphone from the inner pocket of her dirtied lab smock, she tried to call for help, only to realize the saltwater had already shorted it out, and it wouldn't power up.

  "God damn it!" Throwing the phone away wasn't going to help, but she did it anyway. The flattened device bounced off the corridor wall with a heavy thud before making a brief splash into the brackish water beside her.

  The emergency floodlight at the other end of the tunnel provided the only illumination for her. It felt like she was trapped in some underground sewer and the lone, distant orb of light up ahead seemed to be her one beacon of hope.

  Gritting her teeth, Lauren began to limp forward, every other step an excruciating ordeal. Whenever her wounded left foot touched the silt bottom a sharp stabbing pain shot up her leg. She tried to hop using her good limb, but gave up after she nearly fell sideways into the surrounding water.

  The wading was slow, but with each step she began to make progress. "Come on," she whispered painfully to herself. "You can do this."

  It had been a plum position, to be offered the job as the leader of Project Proteus. Lauren knew that once all her achievements were made public, it would make her the most famous scientist since Albert Einstein. The accolades she would garner would be a fitting revenge after the firestorm that had made her a pariah in the scientific community. Yet in the span of a few hours, it had all gone to hell.

  She had warned him many, many times before. We might not be able to control it.

  Emeric just wouldn't listen. Yes, we can. Don't worry about it. My security teams will handle it if something goes wrong.

  And something did go wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong. First it was the freak cyclone that briefly knocked out the main power, forcing them to use the island's backup generators. During the brief interruption, nobody had told the security staff to reset the circuit breakers, and so the main containment unit of the interior module had actually turned off by itself. By the time they had realized something was amiss, it was already too late.

  When the inner laboratory was suddenly plunged into darkness, she didn’t even had time to pull the alarm switch before the screaming began.

  Lauren figured she must have survived by sheer luck, for she had gone back to the outer perimeter of the lab to retrieve something when it broke out of its cage. The dying cries of her colleagues still echoed in her mind, filling her with a creeping guilt. She would have to live with those memories if she could somehow make it out of this.

  It's loose, but confined within the inner facility, she thought. I need to head over to the other side of the island and warn them.

  Lauren could see the short stairwell clearly now. Just a few more steps and she could finally get out of the flooded area and onto dry land, at least. The big house upstairs was fully stocked, and there were plenty of boats anchored along the private pier.

  Just as she placed her hand on the dry concrete steps and began to pull herself up, Lauren heard a shrill noise coming from the landing above her. It was a sound like a combination of a dolphin's squeal and the hiss of a snake.

  She looked up in horror, and their eyes met. Something powerful curled around the radiating floodlight and began to squeeze its metal housing, completely crushing the bulb and plunging the whole corridor into darkness. It preferred to hunt without the light.

  Lauren screamed for the last time.

  2

  ADJUSTING HIS GLASSES so they wouldn't droop over the tip of his nose, Nick Dirkse sighed as he stared at the lines of code on his dual flat-screen monitors. The client's alpha build had been overdue for more than a week now, and his "boss" Art Treadway wasn't happy.

  It wasn't his team's fault, really. The client had unexpectedly called in, and given them a new list of things that they had to put into the main software build, and it meant they needed to completely recode the base engine. Adding the new functionalities meant all the work already done with the supporting modules had to be shelved until the core was reworked. Doreen was his lead programmer, and an unexpected bout of pneumonia had landed her in the hospital, further delaying any additional work. Nick wanted to hire a freelance coder to compensate for the time crunch, but Art told him there just wasn't any budget for it.

/>   The small Los Angeles software firm he co-owned wasn't doing too well, and they desperately needed this project. The night before, Nick had sneaked back into the office just after dinner to finish up his code review on the build, and he had inadvertently spied on Art. His partner had still been there, locked inside the conference room, and Nick could hear Art's pitiful sobs while begging his creditors over the phone to give him just a little more time.

  He’d known Art since they’d both started out as IT interns with a tech startup during their college days. They kept in touch over the years, and when Art bumped into him while Nick was taking his family to the Redondo Beach pier for a Sunday outing, they both discussed their desire to strike out on their own. Art had a bit of money left over from his inheritance, and he asked Nick if he would like to work together.

  Nick naturally said yes.

  The first few years were tough. It was a crowded industry, the competition relentless. Software builds had to be turned in on time, with as few bugs in them as possible. Contract negotiations were like a feast of piranhas where clients ran hard deals, whittling down their software firm's potential profits until all Art and Nick could hope for was to break even. There were times they even took a project for a loss, just so they could gain a new account.

  Art had been somewhat carefree when it came to spending at first, but Nick soon realized his friend's petty cash was fast running out. The staff needed to be paid, operating expenses covered, even on failed or rejected projects. The overdue bills began to pile up. To help Art out, Nick began spending more time at the office, sometimes sleeping over, just to finish a build on time. What was once an extraordinary sacrifice soon became routine.

  Nick narrowed his eyes as he spotted another mistake in the assembly code. After making the corrections he leaned back in his chair, took his glasses off and rubbed his tired eyes. The local time on his monitor screen was half past four in the afternoon. With more than several thousand lines of code to check and recheck, there was no way he would be back for dinner at the house. I'm going to have to order something at the pizza place next door.

  A hand gripped the top divider of his cubicle. Art poked his balding head through the opening. "How we doing, Nick?"

  Nick kept his eyes focused on the screen before putting his glasses back on and resuming his work. "I got the latest build from Rhee, and I’m just checking the code for bugs now."

  "Does it work reasonably okay?"

  "It should. I've started it up a few times, and there are just a few glitches I need to straighten out. I promise I'll have this in your hands for the presentation tomorrow morning."

  Art rubbed his lower lip. "I know this is asking a lot, but can we make an interactive presentation with it by seven tonight?"

  Nick looked up at him in surprise. "But that's just three hours from now."

  His partner hesitated slightly before answering in a low whisper. "Yeah, about that. Benny Orenstein told me he's coming over. And—"

  "And what?"

  "He said if we don't have a working build by then he's cancelling and going with Stoakes's firm in Silicon Valley instead."

  Nick could hardly believe it. "But he signed a contract with us. He can't back out now."

  "There's actually a cancellation clause in the paperwork."

  "What? I've never read anything like that in the docs."

  "It was added in, just before he signed it," Art said softly. "His lawyer insisted on it."

  Nick tilted his head up and let out a low groan. "Jesus H Christ."

  "I'm sorry, Nick. I know your team is understaffed, and if I could do anything you know I would help."

  "I know, I know. You don't have to explain."

  "I was on the phone with him all day," Art said. "I got him to agree to come over and check out what we've done so far. If we can pull this off, then he could refer us to an even bigger fish, he says."

  Nick frowned. "I know what he's trying to do, the damn cheapskate."

  "This is important," Art said. "If he sticks with us, it will be enough to pay off our outstanding bills. I'm afraid I’ve got no money left in the bank, so we really need this."

  Nick cracked his knuckles. "Don't worry, I got this. You'll have the build ready to go in a few hours’ time."

  "You sure?"

  "Damn sure. Once I'm done with this, he'll be eating out of your hand for once."

  Art beamed. "Thanks, Nick. I'll leave in a bit so I can go home and put on my best suit. Will you be okay holding down the fort till I get back?"

  "No sweat."

  "I know this has been hard on you and Cathy, but I think we're about to turn the corner, bud."

  "Don't worry, I got this," Nick said. "Now get going and go bother somebody else. I need to concentrate."

  Art chuckled and walked away.

  Nick's mind became laser focused, and for the next half hour he managed to find and correct a few more bugs in the software. Just before he tried to run the program, he suddenly remembered today was his wedding anniversary.

  Using the autodial on his smartphone, he tried his wife's number, but all he got was voicemail. He decided to leave a message, just in case he forgot to call again.

  3

  CATHY'S PHONE VIBRATED inside her handbag, but she ignored it while gesturing at the couple beside her. "And this is the living room."

  The portly, silver haired couple standing alongside her looked at each other and made some hushed murmurings that she wasn't able to discern.

  The man nodded. "It looks okay, but I didn't see a garage."

  "I'm afraid there isn't one. You can park your car on the street," Cathy Dirkse said.

  The woman standing beside her husband had white curls in her hair. "What about this whole neighborhood? Is it safe?"

  "Reasonably," Cathy said. "It's a quiet cul-de-sac."

  The man gave a solemn look to his wife. "What do you think?"

  "I think it's okay," the woman said to him before turning towards Cathy. "Though if we include the insurance and all that, it would really put us in a bind. Is there a way we could get a discount on it?"

  "I'm afraid the insurance and the house are two different things," Cathy said. "California state law requires homeowner's insurance. I could try to find another broker for you on that, and maybe he or she could offer a better price."

  "If you could, please," the man said. "My company pension and Social Security benefits will be just enough to cover the down payment and very little else."

  "Sure, I'll look into it."

  The woman smiled at her, showing a pair of yellowing dentures. "Thanks, Cathy. We have another meeting to go to, so we'll talk to you again soon."

  Cathy walked briskly over to the front door and opened it for them. "Oh, no problem. Let me guide you both to your car."

  The man smiled while shaking his head. "No need. We can get there on our own. Thanks again, Cathy. We'll call you."

  Cathy waved goodbye as the retired couple got into their car and drove off. She had spent most of the day stuck on the freeway, and her clients’ cooling attitude meant they might have found a better house elsewhere since they were making up excuses when it came to closing the deal. They must be in touch with a few other real estate brokers, she thought. I hope they won't buy it from Jonathon or Lorraine, anybody but them. I need to beat those two this month.

  Watching their car disappear down the street, Cathy remembered the vibrations of her smartphone. Taking the multipurpose device out from her bag, she started combing through her messages while walking back to her sedan parked along the street. The afternoon sun continued to cast muted golden rays at her face, and the only sounds she could hear were the seatbelt reminder beeps her car made as she sat down in the driver’s seat.

  After reading all of the texts from clients and colleagues, she opened her message inbox and heard Nick's recorded voice. "Hi Cathy, it's me. I'm so sorry but things have come up here that need my attention, so I won't be home until late tonight. Oh, I was
supposed to pick up Scotty after his soccer practice, but is it alright if you do it? Thanks. I'll try calling again later. Bye."

  Cathy looked away, a lethargic feeling of apathy drifting in her mind. Nick was never home. The only time they had together was on Sundays, and he would spend all afternoon sleepily watching football games from the couch before going to bed early. They would acknowledge each other's presence with small talk, and the subjects spoken about rarely went beyond the mundane.

  She remembered the early years. Their children were still small, and they truly couldn't get enough of each other back then. Waking up right next to him was electrifying, and there was enough time to spend in clubs or by the beach while their own parents looked after the kids. They even managed to convince Nick's mother to keep Kim and baby Scott for a whole weekend once, and they were able to rent a cottage up by Big Bear Lake, just for the two of them. How she missed those halcyon days when nothing mattered but mutual love.

  Things started to go downhill when their parents passed away, one by one. After his mother's death, Nick became quiet and withdrawn. Gone was his loving, jesting warmth, replaced by a cold, detached aloofness. Her therapist said it was a way for Nick to cope with the loss, but Cathy often wondered why she was always on the receiving end of it.

  When Nick decided to go into business with his old buddy Arthur Treadway, it all finally hit rock bottom. Cathy's husband would sometimes work all night at the office, leaving her to take care of the kids. She had to put less hours into her own job as a real estate broker just to deal with Kimberly and Scott. The magic gradually went away, and all she had left were her parental responsibilities and a growing resentment towards Nick.

  Her phone began ringing just as she closed the car door and started up the engine. She took a look at the caller ID and hesitated for a brief second before answering it. "Hello."

  Brad's soothing, baritone voice came over the line. "Hi. I'm not disturbing you, am I?"