Read The Farpool Page 17


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  Nessie was placed initially in the Graham Amazon Gallery at the aquarium. Room had to be made for the new exhibit, so other snakes, spiders, birds and lizards were temporarily re-located. Fort arranged to make a full physical exam of their newest attraction, while she was still sedated.

  Fishermen use way too much of that Maropitant citrate, he thought. The poor thing’s been knocked out since Kitticut put into port.

  He and two vet techs performed the exam, taking notes and snapping pictures the whole time.

  They didn’t realize that Nessie was awake and conscious the whole time.

  Angie waited a decent interval, until the last of the vet techs had left the gallery, then opened her eyes further and tried to take in her surroundings. She was in a large pool of some type, warmer than the ocean. Fake trees and vines hung low over the water…it was, after all, the Amazon Gallery, though she didn’t know that. Mists shrouded some of the side decking. The pool was an elongated double-oval shape, large enough to take a few strokes but definitely not the Gulf of Mexico.

  Where the hell am I? Then it came to her: this is a freakin’ aquarium, just like Scotland Beach. But this wasn’t Gulfside, no way.

  Somehow the Farpool had deposited her in another place. And she had no idea what time she was in, and no way she could see to find out. Aquarium galleries didn’t post calendars for their exhibit animals.

  Pretty depressing, all in all. But maybe it was cosmic justice. Kloosee and Pakma had wound up in an aquarium on their last visit to Earth. They’d been shot and treated as monsters, then treated as lab rats, before she and Chase had sprung them free.

  Jeez, now I’m an exhibit. In a freakin’ aquarium, for God’s sake. Angie was depressed at the thought. I’m must look like a dinosaur or something to them, with all these scales and skin and all.

  She figured the best thing was to try to explain things, explain to somebody just who the hell she was and how she had gotten there.

  A door to the gallery opened and light blazed in. It was one of the vet techs. Or maybe it was a custodian. She didn’t really care.

  Now’s my chance. Angie staggered to her feet—the pool wasn’t really that deep—and slogged her way through the water to the edge. The custodian hadn’t seen her yet; he was untangling a pail and a mop.

  She reached the edge, found a point of purchase, and started to haul herself up over the edge, calling out to the man as she did so.

  “Hey…hey…I’m human…it’s not what it looks like--!”

  The custodian whirled about, stood mouth open at Angie crawling dripping and hissing out of the ersatz swamp water and immediately dropped his pail and mop. He stared dumbfounded for a moment, then streaked for the still-open door, screaming at the top of his lungs.

  “Jesus…it’s escaping…it’s vocalizing…it’s getting loose--!!”

  The custodian fled the gallery. That’s when Angie saw two silhouettes blocking the door he had just gone through.

  She immediately recognized a security guard by the gun in his hand. The other figure was Dr. Maureen Corley, veterinarian on duty that evening.

  “Help me…can you help! I’m…my name’s Angie--!”

  Dr. Corley put her hands to her mouth. She had just finished reading Justin Fort’s examination notes on the proto-ichthyosaur the aquarium had just purchased from some whalers up at Port McNeill. She had planned to come down to the gallery later that evening and make a few notes of her own….maybe a few pictures…they’d look great at the conference in Seattle next week.

  “Oh, my God---it’s trying to vocalize---“

  The security guard lifted his gun, but Corley put her hand over his arm.

  “Don’t shoot, Joe…let me get some tranquilizer…” she hustled off for a moment, then came back with a tranquilizer gun herself. She loaded one of the darts and aimed at the creature’s chest.

  “Please don’t shoot me—I’m just--!” Angie pleaded. She took another step, then felt the first dart hit, sinking in just below her neck. In seconds, the world turned gray and she dropped to her knees, then pitched forward, slamming her chin on the tile floor of the gallery.

  In her last few wisps of consciousness, Angie saw Dr. Corley and the guard approaching cautiously, creeping forward step by step, a Glock and a tranquilizer gun both trained on her.

  I came all the way back for this, she thought as the black closed in. Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea after all. Chase, if you’re—

  Then there was nothing.