Kingdom of Monsters by John Schneider (microsoft ebook reader .TXT) 📗

Now that she was in the world, she found she got a little bit of a glow from most people.  Usually, it was just a vague sense of mood and temperament – some she felt more strongly than others.

When she had touched Cameron's hand, it was if she'd suddenly known all about him.

Not facts, not where he was born, his favorite color, but the essential him.

Even on her island, Shanna had not completely missed the attention of men.  In fact, it had mostly been hard-core military studs, who had certainly made their appreciation for her face and form well-known.

So Shanna knew what she looked like.  And even if she hadn't, her online nerd-contacts at Area 51 would have let her know.  Among the pictures with Otto in Santa hats at Christmas, were a long line of propositions, should she ever make it state-side.

But with Cameron, all it had taken was a touch.

And now she found herself missing him.

Shanna wondered what Rhodes had in mind for him and Maverick.

She could only guess, because from Rhodes, she felt nothing.

Some people were closed off that way – like a dead circuit – a hardness that blocked them off.  It wasn't necessarily a lack of empathy, so much as deliberately unemotional – doctors could be like that, people who couldn't let themselves feel.

It was different from bad people.  Shanna had encountered a smattering enough of those to know the difference.  Among the ships that had periodically come to her island, she'd met the odd soldier in it for the wrong reasons – but a man who liked to kill was no less emotional or empathic than the next, sometimes more so.  Sadism was simply a matter of taste.

Which turned Shanna's mind to Otto.

Otto was not like Rhodes – she always felt the little lizard's presence.  But in terms of higher emotion, he emitted only the most basic reptilian stimulus.  If not for the fact of his direct creation from her DNA, Otto likely would have been like the big plant-eaters or the more primitive carnosaurs, where she only felt the barest glow.

With Otto, it was general awareness and not much else.

But clearly, there was more there.

What happened on the island – what it implied?

Shanna had not seen it coming.

General Rhodes had several long discussions with her on that point.

Rhodes also informed her that they had in their possession a lot more footage than just Kate's thumb-drive.  They were, in fact, keeping a number of incidents under wraps.

As he put it, “We seem to be having a bit of a crypto-zoological crisis.”

Incidents had been reported all over the world.  Not in remote areas, either, but just outside some of the biggest cities.

It didn't seem likely until you looked on a map.

In North America alone, seventy-five percent of forest-lands were protected and off-limits, and the largest concentration of these protected forests surrounded the big cities, where local lawmakers were more inclined to pass laws locking them off.

Which meant there was a blind spot there, and close to major population centers.

And 'crypto-incidents', as Rhodes called them, were on the rise, with a spike starting six months ago, after a cruise ship went down along its Central Pacific tour – an incident that had no casualties until the shipwrecked passengers made it to shore.

“A hundred castaways,” Rhodes said, “according to two survivors, were eaten by monsters.”

Then there was the matter of Kate's e-mail video from Monster Island.  They never did quite figure out where that leak came from.  Kate herself swore she didn't know.

“She's my daughter,” Rhodes had sighed.  “And she's been a handful all her life.”

Shanna felt a blip from him then, when he talked about Kate – a single note of regret.

Then it had dried-up like a tear-drop and he had turned his direct eyes, focusing cybernetically on Shanna.

“What about you?” he said.  “Do you have any idea where that leak might have come from?”

Shanna, who had suspicions, told him no.  She had not told many lies in her life, so she wasn't sure if he believed her.

Not that it mattered.  Rhodes had other plans for her.

It had been her first day in the states, still sitting on board the ship, docked at the Brooklyn shore opposite the river from Manhattan, looking up at the skyline of New York City – a dream all her life, and now near enough to touch – staring through port-windows not much different than a prison wall.

But she wasn't a prisoner.  She was an asset.  Rhodes had told her so.

And then he had showed her what they wanted.

He had taken her to the nondescript warehouse on a quiet corner of the Brooklyn docks – a three-mile stretch of storage lots bordering the East River.

These buildings, however, were a lot bigger on the inside, dug many levels deep.

Rhodes had taken her to see Congo.

The makeshift cage was a re-purposed weapons-bunker, well-fortified and big.

Congo lay slumped against the far wall, drugged near-comatose.  His eyes were half-closed and glazed.   Shanna could see the green glow between his slitted lids.

It had been a week since the island.  The big gorilla had been infected via direct injection – clearly not a large dose, as the infection seemed to be progressing slowly – perhaps Otto had been using his stores sparingly in order to contaminate the whole island on short notice – but the chemical's effect was still obvious.

Measured at full maturity, Congo had stretched nearly twenty-three feet tall, and just over eight tons.  Now he was at least twice that.

“He's growing,” Rhodes said.

“He's dying,” Shanna said.

“Maybe,” Rhodes said, “you can do something about it.”

Shanna sighed.  Without having to hear it, she knew what they wanted.

“Dr. Shriver,” Rhodes continued, “says that your father was working on an antidote.”

“Not an antidote,” Shanna corrected.  “There's no way to reverse the growth effect.  The intent was to alleviate the rabies-like madness that killed the subjects.”

Shanna shook her head.  “But it doesn't matter.  We lost everything on the island.”

“Dr. Shriver,” Rhodes said, “believes you can extract