Chapters (49)
- PRAISE FOR BENEATH
- PRAISE FOR JEREMY ROBINSON'S CHESS TEAM SERIES
- INSTINCT
- PULSE
- BENEATH
- ALSO by JEREMY ROBINSON
- DEDICATION
- ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
- PROLOGUE -- COLLISIONS
- EARTH
- CHAPTER 1 -- IMPACT
- CHAPTER 2 -- LAKE VOSTOK
- CHAPTER 3 – GLOBAL EXPLORATION CORPORATION
- CHAPTER 4 -- THE CREW
- CHAPTER 5 -- PREPARATIONS
- CHAPTER 6 -- GOING UP
- EUROPA
- CHAPTER 7 -- ORBIT
- CHAPTER 8 -- THE ATTACK
- CHAPTER 9 -- DEPLOYMENT
- CHAPTER 10 -- GOING DOWN
- CHAPTER 11 -- FIELDS OF RED
- CHAPTER 12 -- EUROPHIDS
- CHAPTER 13 -- INFECTION
- CHAPTER 14 -- CHANGES
- CHAPTER 15 -- INTELLIGENCE
- OCEAN
- CHAPTER 16 -- THE DEEP
- CHAPTER 17 -- THE POD
- CHAPTER 18 -- PREDATORS
- CHAPTER 19 -- DIVE
- CHAPTER 20 -- HELP
- CHAPTER 21 -- PRESSURE
- CHAPTER 22 -- PASSAGE
- THE DEN
- CHAPTER 23 -- AWAKENING
- CHAPTER 24 -- THE DEN
- CHAPTER 25 -- THE CREEPS
- CHAPTER 26 -- ANXIETY
- CHAPTER 27 -- STALKING
- IMMUNE SYSTEM
- CHAPTER 28 -- TOPSIDE
- CHAPTER 29 -- BLUE
- CHAPTER 30 -- ESCAPE
- CHAPTER 31 -- IGNITION
- CHAPTER 32 -- BALLISTIC
- CHAPTER 33 -- THE RETURN
- CHAPTER 34 -- HOME
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
The first: infectious diseases, which she had spent the better part of her adult life battling on the job for the CDC, and personally after being diagnosed with Hepatitis C, which she contracted from her mother at birth—a fact that was kept from her employers at the CDC, and now, at the GEC.
The second was almost as bad: professional adults getting goo-goo eyes for each other, which she had spent all her life avoiding. She could feel the energy from Peterson and Connelly like it was a static charge in the air, and it made her cringe. To Choi, it seemed that the only human diseases that had no cure were lust, desire, love, and a slew of other emotions that made things of importance seem insignificant.
As she led Peterson and Connelly to the conference room from the bio-lab, she listened in on their conversations. Most topics seemed innocent enough, astrogeology, oceanography and extremophiles, but after joining up with the GEC, Choi spent enough time around crush-struck scientists to know that talking science and using big words was the equivalent of talking dirty to the layman. She'd attempted to be patient with them in the bio-lab, even amiable, but her patience was wearing thin.
Ever since making the move from the Center for Disease Control and Prevention, Choi had discovered a new world of annoyances. Six years ago an outbreak of a mutated common flu swept across the globe. Science predicted common illnesses would reemerge as modern plagues, but mankind had ignored the warnings, bathing in antibacterial soaps, popping antibiotics whenever a sore throat struck, and taking vaccines for every ailment imaginable. The resulting super germs were nearly unstoppable and humanity's immune systems—adapted to having antibiotics and vaccines do all the work—were weaker then a newborn baby's fifty years ago. But of all the new strains of germs, bacteria and viruses that cropped up around 2015, the flu was the worst.
The original outbreak started in Omaha, Nebraska and spread across North America, moving with the produce shipments. It had reached both coasts in three days and before anyone realized it was worse than the seasonal flu, it had leapt to every continent on Earth. Choi was relatively new to the CDC, but they recognized her talents immediately and put her on the first response task force.
Choi's work led to the development of a vaccine, which was mass produced and administered globally, saving countless lives. But the result, while a success for Choi, had been a stunning failure for the human race—two million people died from the flu in 2015.