Chapters (42)
- BENEATH THE DARK ICE
- Table of Contents
- Copyright
- Dedication
- Acknowledgements
- Prologue
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-one
- Twenty-two
- Twenty-three
- Twenty-four
- Twenty-five
- Twenty-six
- Twenty-seven
- Twenty-eight
- Twenty-nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-one
- Thirty-two
- Epilogue
- One
- Two
- Three
“But you said it yourself. We don’t know how long these things live. What if it’s the same creature or what if they have the ability to pass on their memories like, like . . .” Monica was trying to remember some Discovery Channel nature program she had seen in another life, when Aimee assisted.
“Flatworms.”
“That’s them. Could it remember, Aimee?”
“We just don’t know. We don’t know how long today’s giant cephalopods live, let alone a creature that should have been extinct four hundred million years ago and may have caused the collapse of the first great human civilisation. However, I doubt very much it could live for tens of thousands of years. But the problem we have down here is that this is a very different world to ours with unique environmental effects resulting in very different natural laws. Could it find a way in? Sure, given enough time; it’s certainly smart enough. Could it remember a way in? I just don’t know, but there are studies now on cellular inherited memory where transplant patients are recollecting tastes, smells and even images from the donor. I’ve read papers on memory inheritance that . . .” Aimee stopped talking. She had forgotten herself; the look on Monica’s face told her the information wasn’t helping.
Alex noticed that Aimee had omitted to share her theories with Monica about the image of the girl and baby in the old-fashioned clothing. He got to his feet and walked back towards the giant stone doors. He removed his glove and placed his hand flat on the polished red stone. He felt for vibrations and more; he felt for the leviathan’s presence—there was nothing. Aimee approached softly behind him and spoke quietly when she was close.
“Sorry, I don’t think I was making things better back there.”
“Don’t worry about it; we’re all exhausted. But I’ll tell you one thing. I have no intention of donating my organs to this thing.”
“Ha, is that what they call battlefield humour, Captain Hunter?” After all they had been through Aimee still managed to laugh gently at their predicament. Alex couldn’t help resting his eyes on her beautiful upturned face, now dusty and streaked by the tracks of perspiration and tears. She made him feel at ease and comfortable; he liked that.
“So, Dr. Aimee Weir, how does a sensible, modern woman like you end up a paleobiologist working for the government?”