Fan Fiction ❯ Turtle Grass ❯ The Visitor ( Chapter 1 )

Chapter One: The Visitor

 

Is anyone out there? Ninety-six feet below sea level Dr. James Conway peered out the window of his underwater laboratory, contemplating his lonely existence for the third time since he started his experiment, forty-five minutes earlier. As if to answer, the motion sensing security perimeter light buzzed to life. Dr Conway checked his security monitor on the wall to his immediate left. The Beebe Cube VI, submersible laboratory, was the size of a trailer or mobile home, so checking the entryway security camera was as easy as a push of the button.

 

The two forward suspension cables and the bottom of the habitat popped into focus.

“What the- ,”he exclaimed as manoeuvred the joystick to point the camera toward the rear of the lab to view the entrance hatch and the extended ladder.

 

James could have sworn he had left the Wet room ladder, which resembled an outboard boat ladder, in the up and locked position. But what had caused his exclamation was the indistinct silhouette of a person illuminated and distorted by the security light. The security light clicked off and James was left staring at the shadow surrounded by the blue hue of the ocean depth. He immediately clicked the light back on; not out of fear but desperate curiosity. The same scene, sans the mysterious shadow, mockingly beamed into Dr. Conway's face.

 

Groping for the communication device tethered to the wall to his right, he spilled his iris coffee on to his experiment notes. He cursed at the mess as he initiated communication to headquarters. “-k! This is Doctor James Conway, located in Beebe Cube IV, Cow Flatts. Bermuda Underwater Exploration Institute, do you copy? Is there anyone else scheduled to join me, at Beebe-C-Four? Over…”

 

Even though the lights were one inside the Beebe C-IV the window treatment, that Dr. Conway had developed, allowed him to see out but not a single lumen to be seen from the exterior. Experiment JC2X05.16 was one of James' first and top secret, discoveries while working with the institute. Like tinted windows on a stretched limousine, the Beebe C-IV was invisible to the nocturnal flora and faunal. And should have been undetectable to the naked eye; hence his mayday to headquarters.

 

The receiver crackled to life and a smooth female voice, of Dr. Emillia Dickenson, responded. “Ace boy,” the Bermudian argot reminded him of his global location. “You realise that the BBC4 is a TV/Radio Station in the UK.” The bored and chiding voice of Dr. Emilie Dickenson reached his ear. “No one is scheduled to be there- BUEI deliveries or otherwise”. She paused, to check the digital log of security camera and motion sensor alarm on the institute's network.

 

After a few keystrokes at her desktop computer keyboard, she was able to scan back a few seconds before the motion sensor was triggered. Her two screen monitor displayed the top and bottom of the Beebe C-IV. At oh three thirty nine Dr. Dickenson was the only person, save security, who had access to this classified footage.” I see a shadow…of something. JC, it's probably just a turtle, or shark attracted to your equipment.

 

“I'm going back to work.” Dr. Dickenson ran the three seconds footage again, to be sure. Seeing nothing unusual she dismissively concluded, “…and James...”

 

“Yes Doctor Dickenson,” he replied sweetly, albeit mock sweetness.

 

“Take my number off auto dial and call the security telephone number; you have a wireless telephone not a CV radio.” She made her best radio static imitation and continued, “Over and out.”

 

A definitive click resounded in James' ear. Dropping the wireless telephone onto the hook, he turned around to rant to his giraffe spotted sea creatures, Romeo and Juliet.” This is why you should never get involved with people you work with.” Dr. Conway extended his legs, covered by tattered khaki swim shorts, from the stool foot rest to the linoleum floor. Taking two steps toward the wet room, at the rear of the lab, he paused to dislodge his mini-tranquilizing harpoon, from behind the fire extinguisher.

 

He entered the wet room, to don his wetsuit shirt, mumbling about a certain epicurean marine biologist who preferred an office on land to actually getting wet, he donned his wetsuit shirt. He had gotten her wet. James had spent five years in a precarious love-hate relationship with the pretentious Dr. Dickenson and he was tired of the game they played. He hoped for an intruded just to be able to spite her with an `I told you so'. He harnessed the re-breather to his back, which resembled a blackened almond, and secured his face mask.

 

He had to concentrate on investigating his unwanted intruder. After affixing the mask to the bubble free re-breather he inhaled a test breath. “Ah screw it,” James exhaled the mild profanity and contacted Dr. Dickenson, using the voice operated radio located in the masks. He inspected the ladder through the open moon pool while he was redirected to her extension.

 

“Emillia?” He only called her that name when he was being serious.

 

“Yes James” exasperation saturated her voice.

 

“I'm going out side to check the human shadow I saw. And, I need you to watch my back, just in case…”

 

“Lucky me.” Her voice was devoid of any enthusiasm. “At least if I'm right I have a front row seat for the first underwater turtle sexual assault of a human buy a buck sea turtle” she mused; the exasperation was gone from her voice.

 

True, his re-breather did somewhat resemble a turtle shell, but Emillia was just trying to goad James. Emillia started to type in the code to configure the camera to do a scan.

“No one's getting turtle raped today, thank you very much,” he asserted, as he stuck his head out the moon pool to scan the sea floor. The view was clear, from what he could tell of the poorly lit underbelly of the Beebe C-IV. James disabled the motion sensor, as not to startle the intruder; he slipped into the water and stood barefoot on the last rung of the ladder.

 

“See anything?” His words were a hushed exhale. In the blue-black hue of the moonlit shadow of the lab, he was able to discern a few blurred shapes. The moon light on the island often resembled sunlight; he saw the sea floor out side the shadow perimeter as clear as day. From what he could see, everything was in its place.

 

“Shush, will you” He could the creaking of Emillia's chair as she lean closer to the screen.

 

“I have the night vision on already, but the moonlight is so bright it's making everything look ghostly and vague. There's a rock or something in front of you. I'm going to rotate the camera and zoom in, hold on for a few seconds.”

 

A catalogue of nocturnal creatures waded through Dr. Conway's mind. The only animals he could think of were somewhat dangerous. The adrenaline pumped through his body, he concentrated on keeping his breath level. Sharks, eels, and fish with large teeth swam through his imagination. Being molested by a sea turtle was sounding better by the moment.

 

The camera began to swivel and zoom when the keystrokes fell silent. Anticipation and puzzlement furrowed her brow. “Looks like… a three headed jellyfish with curly tentacles- no, three mushroom anchors and chain links… hardly an intruder.” Rotating the camera to view a puzzled James, she saw a rope tangled on the end of the ladder leading up over the edge of the Beebe C-IV. “There's a rope tangled in the ladder that leads up over the side, I'm going to follow it. It's probably just some buoy the summer sailing camps left out, or put too many weights on. As Emillia typed away, James followed the rope from the anchor, beneath him and up over the edge of the lab. As he swam to the edge the motion sensor engaged. What he saw could only be described as a silhouette of a naked woman.

 

“Are you seeing what I'm seeing?”

 

A few more key taps and Dr. Dickenson saw the ankles, the rigid knees, and the cream completion of the torso floated on her screen. She didn't realise who she was staring at, until she saw the face. “You've got to be kidding me,” Emillia scoffed. Astonishment burst her bubble of anticipation.

 

James rushed up toward the figure. “Oh my” was his sorrow ridden response as her stared into blank dead eyes. Eyes he had seen before, years ago. Emillia's voice snapped him back to the present.

 

“If you and… Blowjob Betty are done reminiscing, I have work to do. That is after I make a copy of this footage and our communication.”

 

“Me and Betty's past is none of your concern. Besides a copy would only serve to prove that you were wrong and I was right.”

 

“Wrong! Your person turned out to be some lewd party favour. You were hardly right.” She countered.

 

He ignored he retort. “She looks fairly new. She must have been `bon-voyaged' by some intoxicated holiday celebrators.” He eyed the loose rope around her neck and torso, and wondered how it had remained around Betty after the initial plunge. He fingered to loos reef knot then shifted he gaze to Betty's torso.

 

“Ecstasy below,” Emillia heard Dr. Conway exclaim through the receiver of her phone.

 

“Excuse me…would you, um, like some time alone with Betty…” He rotated the torso toward the Camera. For her to see the dark writing with a thick arrow pointing down: it read `XTC'.

 

“Hmm. Strange. I guess you do have a new visitor. You should take her inside to reminisce though, because a hammerhead is closing in on the front end of the Beebe-”

 

James took out his pocket knife and sliced cleanly through the yellow nylon rope. He put Betty in a headlock and began to swim as fast as he could back to the moon pool entrance. As he neared the underside, the light clicked on. He peered under the lab while reaching for his mini tranquilizing harpoon. The path to the ladder was clear, but the motion sensor had been tripped, this time, by a lumbering five foot green turtle grazing on the grass growing on the starboard side. James reached for the ladder as he swam, dragging Betty along.

 

“Ok. You were partly right. Go ahead and make your copy” he broke the surface of the Beebe C-IV moon pool, letting Betty shoot up. But that turtle was interested in grass, not my ass. Good day Dr. Dickenson. And thank you for your assistance.” He disconnected.

 

Emillia smirked as she switched her view to camera seven, located in the wet room: Dr. Conway was emerging from the water. She scanned around the room with the camera then her screen went blank and flashed `insufficient feed'. The smirk on her face faded to a look of horror. Behind Dr. Conway, going in the direction of the main room of the submerged laboratory, was a trail of bloody footprint shaped puddles.