At depth

— And you have the suitable equipment for that?

— In fact, we manufactured that apparatus. It has no analogues. At least, not yet.

Cage grew even more thoughtful, and by this point, Frost had already finished his coffee.

Slowly, a look of focused anticipation began to appear on Hector’s face. After a moment, he said:

— Where do I sign?

Hearing these words, Frost broke into a wide smile. But as soon as the smile faded, he immediately adopted a serious tone:

— Mr. Cage, I have one request for you. More accurately, a condition.

— I’m listening.

— No one must know about my visit, nor about this conversation. Is that possible?

— I see no problem.

— I like that. And finally, so you don’t get bored, I’ll leave you a small gift. Perhaps you can formulate a few new theories.

Frost placed a piece of paper with an image on the coffee table and added:

— Take a look sometime. Thank you for the coffee. It was genuinely delicious, and I didn’t say that out of politeness.

They shook hands, and Hector escorted his guest to the door.

Just before reaching the threshold, Frost turned around and asked:

— Mr. Cage, may I ask one final question?

Hector spread his hands in assent.

— With such a successful career, why were you dismissed from your previous university?

Hector felt a surge of energy. No bad memory could possibly spoil his suddenly elevated enthusiasm now. He straightened his back, shoved his hands into his pockets, and replied in a matter-of-fact tone:

— I knocked out eight teeth from a graduate student who was diving into my wife.

— I respect that — Frost tossed out before leaving.

3. KAYLA FOX

In the crowded, darkened lecture hall, the voice of thirty-five-year-old Kayla Fox, Doctor of Biological Sciences, resonated. She was commenting on the images projected onto the screen:

— Before you is a sample of a human zygote — the result of the fusion of two gametes from opposite sexes. In simpler terms, this is what happens when you forget about contraception.

A synchronized burst of laughter filled the hall.

— In this image, we can observe how the tail of one of the two gametes — the sperm — has already been reabsorbed into the egg cell’s cytoplasm. The nuclei of both gametes begin the fusion process, which, once complete, restores the diploid set of chromosomes. Thus, the genetic material for the future organism is formed within the cell, half of which comes from the egg cell and the other half from the sperm. This is how a diploid cell, possessing a complete set of chromosomes — the carriers of hereditary information — is formed from two haploid cells. What questions do you have regarding this section?

— Miss Fox? — a student’s voice rang out.

— Yes?

— What would happen if multiple sperm penetrated a single egg? How would the nuclei react?

— That’s an excellent question. The truth is, for a sperm to penetrate the egg, simply reaching it isn’t enough. The egg is enveloped by a protective layer that must dissolve before the sperm can enter. And here’s the interesting part. For that layer to dissolve, the egg needs to be surrounded by no fewer than three hundred million sperm, as only in that quantity can they release sufficient amounts of the enzymes hyaluronidase and protease to break down the egg’s coat. Once a sperm does get inside, the layer rapidly hardens and thickens, which prevents any other sperm from penetrating.

From the back row, a female student’s voice was heard:

— Now that’s love. The one and only for life.

Laughter erupted in the room, and the professor couldn’t help but join in.

— Love? What nonsense! — objected a student from the row in front. — She let him into her bungalow and then bolted the door. That, my dear, is called a dictatorial matriarchy.

The laughter intensified, subsiding only when the bell finally rang.

Dr. Kayla Fox assigned the required reading and tasks for the next class, after which the students began to disperse, emptying the lecture hall.

This was her final class. Kayla gathered all her teaching materials into her bag and rushed to the parking lot. Descending the stairs, she found herself pondering the jarring slogan she’d read on one of her student’s T-shirts. The text boldly declared: «CHOCOLATE AND MILK MIX,» with the face of a dark-skinned boy pictured beneath. Then Kayla recalled a joke. It had been told that morning by a radio host announcing a countdown of the most unfunny and ridiculous jokes. He had literally said: «Why should scientists worldwide puzzle over how to revive long-extinct animals? Wouldn’t it be easier to take a more direct route? Take a motherfucker, cross it with an orthodontist, and you get a mastodon.»

Just cross a butcher with an orthodontist, and you get a mastodon.» On her way home, Kayla stopped at a supermarket. Approaching the checkout line, she joined the queue behind a young couple with a three-year-old boy. The child was unremarkable until he dropped his toy car. Kayla took her hands off the shopping cart to pick up the toy. As she handed it back to the boy, her eyes incidentally fell upon the cover of a weekly popular science magazine. This particular issue focused on contemporary genetic disorders and pathologies previously unknown to medicine. Kayla began leafing through it, her eyes quickly scanning the article headlines. When her turn came, Kayla placed all her items on the conveyor belt and continued to inspect the pages while the cashier scanned the barcodes. The magazine detailed the discovery of new genetic diseases. In Melbourne, doctors had encountered an unprecedented case. A fetus had to be surgically removed from a woman at six months gestation. The reason for this intervention was the fact that the fetus exhibited a visible tail. While a vestigial tail is observable in the very early stages of pregnancy, in this case, the tail not only failed to recede but was growing at a faster rate than the fetus itself. What particularly horrified the doctors was that, upon terminating the pregnancy, they had not killed the fetus; after its extraction, certain sounds began to emit from its mouth. There were numerous such articles.

— Will you be purchasing this?

Kayla, without looking up from page fourteen, asked:

— What?

— Will you be buying the magazine? — the cashier repeated.

— Ah, yes — Kayla replied, passing the magazine over to be scanned.

The drive from the supermarket home normally took between eighteen and twenty minutes without traffic. This time, Kayla made it in thirteen.

The first thing she did was unpack the groceries that needed to go into the fridge. Everything else, Kayla deferred, leaving the shopping bags and her work bag in the kitchen. To save time, she decided not to change out of her clothes. Once in her home laboratory, a converted bedroom, Kayla pulled on a pair of medical gloves and immediately began examining new samples from her months-long experiment. She retrieved a chicken egg from the incubator. Before commencing the work, Kayla activated the voice recorder on her phone:

— Analysis of sample number forty-five. Twelve days have passed since fertilization. The egg’s external appearance is healthy. No damage or defects are observed on the shell around the injection site where fertilization occurred. I’m autopsying the egg.

Kayla lightly tapped the shell with a scalpel and poured the contents into a plastic container.

— As in all previous attempts, the yolk and albumen are absent. In their place is the same thin, watery consistency, which is partly yellow, but predominantly dark gray. Specimen found.

Kayla lifted the creature, covered in the viscous fluid of its environment, with tweezers. She transferred it to a wide glass receptacle and continued the audio recording:

— The specimen exhibits a fleshy, pale-pink pigmentation. Its size is approximately four to five centimeters long and up to one centimeter wide. Its morphology differs from most previous attempts. At one end, there is a black protuberance resembling an eye. In the middle of the torso, along the edges, there is a distinct outline of what appears to be underdeveloped, unseparated limbs. A slit, about one and a half centimeters in length, is also visible at the opposite end. The specimen is making slight movements near the black protuberance. Compared to previous attempts, this sample is markedly more similar to a human embryo. The higher incubation temperature may have been a contributing factor.

Kayla secured the moving creature with the tweezers, took the scalpel in her other hand, and announced, her eyes fixed on the twitching limb:

— Commencing dissection.

Dr. Fox performed a longitudinal incision, then used a syringe to draw blood samples, which she immediately placed on a microscope slide. She covered it with a second slide, flattening the droplet. Kayla placed the slides under the microscope and began to examine the contents. At that exact moment, the intercom rang.

Feeling both irritated and impatient, Kayla finally made her way to the hallway after the seventh ring.

— Who is it?

— Good day. Dr. Fox?

— Yes.

— My name is Stephen Frost. I am seeking a broad-spectrum specialist in the field of biology. You were recommended by a mutual acquaintance of ours — Miguel Guimaraes. He mentioned your considerable experience in hydrobiology, molecular biology, and microbiology. In light of this, I have a business proposition for you. Will I be imposing too greatly if I take just a few minutes of your time?

A grimace of frustration appeared on Kayla’s face. She replied, trying her best to feign maximum politeness in her tone:

— No, not at all. Please, come in.

Pressing the button on the intercom panel, Kayla quickly rushed to lock the laboratory door.

Pulling the front door open, she watched from the threshold as a tall man in a business suit and highly polished shoes strode down the courtyard path toward her.

— Hello again — Frost said with a smile.

Kayla Fox nodded in acknowledgment and invited him inside. Before he had taken more than a few steps inside her home, Frost addressed her:

— Miss Fox, I will endeavor not to take up much of your time. I understand you are a busy professional, and I’ve been rushing all day myself. Therefore, with your permission, I will get straight to business.

Kayla suddenly noticed that the man was saying these words without taking his eyes off her hands. Only then did she remember she had not removed her rubber laboratory gloves.

— Ah, you mean these. It’s quite alright.

— So I haven’t interrupted anything important? May we talk?

— Of course — Kayla replied, continuing to enact the performance in her own little theater of small dramas. — Please, have a seat.

Sinking into the soft upholstery of the leather armchair, Frost waited for Kayla to take her seat opposite him across the coffee table.

— I represent «Best Technologies» corporation. Have you heard of us?

— Of course. All the labs at our university were equipped with your centrifuges and microscopes this year.

— Then we can omit that part. — Frost then pulled several printed images from his inner jacket pocket and handed them to Kayla, adding: — Before we begin our discussion, would you do me the favor of taking a look at something?

Kayla took the prints and began examining their content in detail.

— What is your professional opinion? — Frost asked, awaiting her reaction.

The biologist stared at the prints in bewilderment for almost a full minute. She turned the images over, examining them from various angles, and then asked, without taking her eyes off the pictures:

— If I may ask, where were these photographed?

— Several years ago, our company initiated a program for the exploration of deep oceanic zones. A team of specialists developed and lowered an unmanned submersible to the ocean floor. And this is what the vehicle discovered.

The first two photographs showed a specimen of a fish species unknown to modern science. The most striking features were the pointed lateral fins, the absence of eyes, and a translucent purple coloration. The other two pictures showed a strange creature that appeared to be a cross between a crab and a squid. The main body resembled a squid, but instead of tentacles, it had crab-like legs.

— The quality of the prints is not very high. We had to shoot under high-powered floodlights due to the absolute darkness. However, the main details are discernible.

Kayla said, letting out a breath of astonishment:

— Well, it is difficult for me to say anything definitive. Such an external morphology could be the result of adaptation to a highly specific external environment. Organisms are shaped by the environment in which they must survive. So, here we are no longer talking about evolution or prolonged acclimatization to external conditions. Rather, these are simply inherent characteristics of organisms that ensure survival within a particular ecosystem.

Having heard her out, Frost began to outline his proposition:

— Our corporation is planning a scientific research expedition to the abyssal zone of the Atlantic Ocean. To carry this out, we require a team of authoritative scientists. How do you feel about participating in this kind of research?

Frowning, Kayla clarified:

— Did you say the «abyssal zone?»

— Precisely.

— But… how is that possible?

— Miss Fox, high technology is our specialty.

Maintaining her puzzled expression, Dr. Fox spent a moment imagining a journey to such remote corners of the Earth. However, the proposal was difficult to fully grasp at once. She posed another question:

— And how long is this expedition planned to last?

— The voyage will extend for little more than two months.

— Is this a single expedition? Or…

— Considering the immense value of the data we stand to gain, a single expedition could provide you with work for years — perhaps for the rest of your career. As you’ve likely gathered, should we discover any novel organisms, you would be offered permanent collaboration. You will be provided with a state-of-the-art laboratory where you can fully research your findings. — After a brief pause, Frost added: — And this concerns the financial aspect of the offer.

Stephen used a pen to write a specific sum on a notepad, then tore off the sheet and handed it to Kayla Fox.

— This figure excludes the bonus component, which will become available should we successfully discover specific deep-sea organisms.

Kayla’s thoughts turned to her experiment: the time she had invested and the limited results she had achieved. She understood perfectly well that she could dedicate her entire life to this research and ultimately gain nothing. And yet, here was this… She placed the prints and the sheet of figures on the coffee table, crossed her legs, adjusted a strand of her black hair, and finally spoke:

— Well, what can I say? I am a scientist first, and a lecturer second. One cannot subsist on theory alone, and an opportunity like this may not present itself again. Given this circumstance, I don’t see the point in prolonged deliberation. I would tell you I agree right now. But, you know, I need a little time for the reality of the destination to fully sink in. I’ll be frank and tell you immediately that I can hardly imagine any reason why I would want to refuse such an offer, but I still require a short period.

— No, no, Miss Fox. No one is rushing you. Please consider everything carefully. Naturally, decisions of this magnitude are not made in a couple of seconds. This isn’t exactly a trip to a nightclub. So please, take your time. You have it.

Kayla paid little attention to his last words. She understood that nothing was truly holding her back.

— I only have one request for you, Miss Fox, one favor?

— Of course.

— Our conversation must remain strictly confidential. It must not go beyond these walls. Can I rely on your discretion?

Without the slightest tremor in her voice, Kayla replied:

— One hundred percent.

The next day, Kayla dialed the number of a former college classmate who worked overseas at a medical research institute in Austin.

— Hello? — a man’s voice answered the phone.

— Hi Miguel. It’s Kayla. Fox.

— Hi beauty. What’s up?

At the word «beauty,» Kayla involuntarily recalled how, during their first year of college, Miguel Guimaraes had asked her out multiple times, only to meet with failure each time, succeeding only in becoming a close friend, as did most of the guys who had set their sights on her.

— Everything according to script — Kayla replied.

— Still married to your microscope?

— Yeah… The years pass, but your humor never changes.

— My bad. It’s just that for the first time in a whole week I woke up without diarrhea, so my mood is soaring this morning.

— Actually, I said your jokes never change, but I didn’t say I don’t like them.

— Got it. My mistake.

It was noticeable over the phone how cheerful Miguel was.

— Well, since you haven’t lost your sense of humor, perhaps you can answer a question?

— Which one?

— Are you still wearing a size three, or have your twins grown to a four?

— I don’t know. I haven’t complained to gravity yet.

Miguel acknowledged the joke with a loud burst of laughter. Waiting for it to subside, Kayla asked:

— I hope I’m not distracting you from anything?

— Not at all. Don’t worry. There are traffic jams this morning, so I have to hoof it to work. Everything’s good. Tell me more.

— Listen, I’m calling to say thank you for recommending me to Frost.

— Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that! There were dump trucks going by! Could you repeat that?

— I said thank you for giving them a lead on me at «Best Technologies».

— What lead?

— What do you mean, «what lead»? Frost came to see me today. He said you recommended me.

Silence held on the line for several seconds. Then Miguel spoke:

— Brown-eyes, you must be mistaken. I don’t know any Frost.

4. TUCKER HUGHES

With unparalleled bliss, he stepped out of the SUV and headed toward a beachfront bar thirty-five kilometers from the city of La Plata, anticipating rivers of rum and whiskey. The forty-five-year-old paleontologist, Tucker Hughes, had spent nearly a month in Argentina, leading a team of archaeologists. For twenty-three days, they had gently and meticulously excavated the remains of a Megaraptor. Now, he and his colleagues planned to get utterly wasted and relax without restraint.

The bar was situated on the ocean shore, where the magnificent sound of the crashing waves, combined with the moonlight, created an especially favorable atmosphere for bidding farewell to sobriety slowly and with small sips.

Tucker was accompanied by his colleague, Jan Vogel, a junior research fellow in the Department of Paleontology, and Fernando Rivera, a staff member of the Trelew Paleontological Museum. Rivera was the one who had initially reported the possible find and requested government permission to involve highly experienced foreign specialists in the excavation.

No sooner had the team of archaeologists finished extracting the Megaraptor remains than Tucker, Jan, and Fernando immediately and synchronously headed for the coast, still wearing their work clothes, which bore traces of sand.

The waitress took their order for a bottle of rum, a bottle of brandy, and three bottles of beer as an aperitif.

Looking toward the incoming waves, Tucker spoke, maintaining a dreamy expression:

— If I could choose the exact moment my life would end in this world, I would choose this one. What could be better than the sound of the surf in your ears, the moon and starry sky before your eyes, and a glass of premium rum in your hand?

— Agreed — Fernando confirmed. — Even losing one’s virginity pales in comparison.

A shadow fell upon the table from behind them. They turned around, expecting to see the waitress with their order on the tray.

— Gentlemen, good evening.

It was a stranger, dressed in white trousers and a black shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbows.

— Are you Dr. Tucker Hughes? — the stranger asked.

— Yes, that’s me.

— Stephen Frost. A pleasure — Frost said, extending his hand and shaking Tucker’s. — Mr. Hughes, if you don’t find me too intrusive, may I steal you away for a moment to discuss something privately?

Tucker did not even attempt to conceal his surprise. The stranger spoke crisp English, which strongly suggested he was not from Argentina, nor from this continent at all. The accent was distinctly British. Tucker found it difficult to imagine that someone had flown across an ocean just to speak with him about something. It was even harder for him to fathom the topic of conversation that had prompted the stranger to travel such a distance. He glanced around, searching for the waitress with their order. Not finding her, he rose from the table and, gesturing toward the far end of the bar’s veranda, said:

— Certainly. Let’s go.

Having settled down at a vacant table in the very corner, Frost asked:

— And how is your fossil doing?

— Apparently, it was a large specimen.

— Do you regret that it will remain here?

— Regret it? — Tucker Hughes retorted in an indifferent tone. He answered the question while maintaining an utterly impassive face. — By no means. I’ve been granted permission to work with the remains. I can fly back later and continue working on the skeleton at any time. As for British schoolchildren not being able to see the skeleton of a robust prehistoric monster, I couldn’t care less. In that respect, I am an egoist and a sociopath. That is just how it is.

— I would call that a very pragmatic approach.

— So — Tucker said, urging them to get down to business.

— I represent the «Best Technologies» corporation. Our firm is organizing a scientific research expedition to the floor of the Atlantic Ocean. We are currently assembling a team of scientists, and there is one remaining vacancy: that of a paleontologist. We require an authoritative specialist with extensive experience and expertise in the field.

— You said «to the floor of the ocean», correct? — Tucker asked with some skepticism, narrowing his eyes.

— Absolutely correct.

The waitress approached the table. Tucker cancelled his order. Frost requested a glass of cold mineral water, and then handed the Latina woman with the golden tan a fifty-dollar bill, asking her to bring the drink after he had left the table.

After the young woman departed, Tucker resumed the conversation:

— Of course, I’ve heard a great deal about your breakthrough technologies, so I won’t ask how you intend to navigate such depths. I don’t doubt that at all. But I have significant doubts about something else. Mr. Frost, I don’t want to sound like a skeptic, but I highly doubt that any preserved remains of creatures could be discovered on the ocean floor.

Before Tucker could even finish speaking, Stephen Frost took several printed photographs from the breast pocket of his black shirt, unfolded them, placed them on the table, and said:

— Mr. Hughes, I, too, do not wish to mislead modern science, so I simply suggest you look at something highly intriguing.

Tucker began examining the photographs, which showed the same object captured from different angles and with varying degrees of clarity. For several minutes, he meticulously assessed every detail of the object.