TRWD26

My Journal
By
Harriman Nelson
26

I was too distraught to sleep a wink last night. I doubt if anyone aboard did. Our search and rescue operations continued around the clock. When one ‘tour’ returned to Seaview aboard the Flying Sub, the next group of divers and qualified pilots would continue, and so it went, on and on.

While the public and press waxed on about Lee’s ghoulish death, select top level U.S. and U.K. officials including top military brass, were sworn to secrecy regarding the suspicion that Lee might actually have been captured, the act disguised by a kelpie hologram.
All of the eyewitness’s phones had been collected by the police as evidence of a most tragic incident. In turn that ‘evidence’ is now being examined by MI-6 and Scotland Yard’s forensic teams for signs of any tampering. But they also loaned us one video at my request, for our own examination.
I had no choice but to head to the Observation Nose and see what those examinations were or weren’t uncovering. We’d set up our own command center there for our search and rescue operations.
The monitor was tuned to the BBC…
“…Loch Ness,” a reporter was saying in front of a road sign boasting the loch, “and shoreline have been closed to visitors, to allow for the continuing search of the captain’s body. Some owners of lakeshore businesses, however, including the Land’s End Pub, are none too pleased....”
“…I’m not a saying it’s a bad idea,” the Land’s End Pub’s bartender was saying in front of the Inverness city hall, “after all, everyone deserves a decent burial, but there’s probably nothing left of him, even if they find the dang creature’s lair. But closing me pub down is depriving me of my livelihood! And none of us would be in the way of the searchers, not with all that fancy equipment they been a hauling all over and under and around the loch.”
“…Ach, stop yer bellyaching’,” Angus McDonald said, “ye don’t see me complaining’ about shutting ye down fer’ a spell. The lad deserves better from ye. He were a good lad and….”
“…Didn’t say he weren’t! But would he be a wantin’ to deprive me of my livelihood when there’s more chance for a snowflake survivin’ in hell than for any part of him left.”
“…And where are all those angels that were supposed to be protectin’ him?” a woman asked Angus.
“…I said,” Angus replied, “the lad were anointed from On High, and sure enough he were, but when yer’ number’s up, yer’ number’s up, poor lad. What a horrible way to die. Hope it were quick so he didn’t feel himself being eaten before he were snatched up to Heaven.”
Ayes and nods of agreement.
The reporter held up his hands for quiet.
“…Do you think the government should reimburse the businesses affected by the loss of access?
“…Only fitting,” someone said. “It weren’t our fault the captain were in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“…I’m losing money already,” a woman said, “my one of kind souvenirs are collecting dust.’
“…It’s only been one day, woman,” Angus complained, “and you get your Loch Ness Monster pillows and the like from an online wholesaler. Ye don’t make em’ yourself.”
“…I add my own embellishments.”
“…Stop it!” Angus roared. “A man’s been killed! A fine man. And eaten by one of our own critters! Have you no feelin’s for the poor lad? For his family? For his friends? And he were good to us, so he were.”
“…Emotions,” the reporter said, “will probably continue to run high about Captain Nelson-Crane’s ghastly death and the closing of one of Scotland’s most famous landmarks. In other news….”

O’Brien, who had the conn, joined me.
“ONI can only confirm that the image was crafted,” he said. “MI-6 and Scotland Yard can’t verify anything. “Any luck, Joe? I told them you’d managed to peel off a few layers of pixels.”
“Not enough to see who or what grabbed Lee.”
“Well, don’t give up, Lad,” I told him.
“Never, sir. How are you coming with those TX images, Frank?”
“Not very well. Even augmented by our systems, we only found what could be a few mining tunnels or volcanic tube holes, leading nowhere. But Sparks says there could be man-made or natural geological shielding. The Flying Sub certainly didn’t pick anything up anything.”
I hope the bastards who have Lee will rot in hell!” I shouted.
“You’re still convinced he’s alive?” O’Brien asked.
“Why kidnap him if they wanted to kill him,” I said. “He’s alive, he has to be!” I said slamming my fist on the table.”
“You won’t do him any good if you’re exhausted. Why not go get a sleeping pill, or a bite, you and Joe.”
Neither Joe or I wanted to abandon our work, but Frank was right. Soon we were headed aft. As we passed by Mrs. C’s cabin, her door open, Emmie and Edith, all in their night attire, were trying to comfort her. Emmie looked at me sympathetically, knowing full well that I was just as miserable as Lee’s mother.
I couldn’t remember if we’d clued all of the women in on the hologram. I’d have to check with Chip before I did anything.

I’d decided against a pill, as Joe had, and had no appetite for food or coffee.
Chip entered, dark circles under his eyes, and sadly sat down.
“Nothing from Sharkey’s tour that just docked, sir. With your permission, instead of my relieving O’Brien, I’d like to take the Flying Sub out next. Not on the schedule but Frank’s willing to keep the conn awhile longer and…”
“You’re acting captain Chip, you don’t need my permission,” I said, bowing my head in despair.
“We’ll find him, sir…”
“There’s nothing to go on! Nothing.”
“Got some breaking news,” Sparks said over the PA and the monitor turned on to show the exterior of the International Geographical and Geophysical branch in London….
“…If the creature is found and captured,” some official was saying, “we will endorse surgical removal of the gastrointestinal contents. However, it could be that any such creature found might not be the same one that ingested the captain. We might also recommend an endoscopic examination prior to any surgery. And one does have to address the fact that it might be far better to allow any indigestible remnants of the captain to remain in the creature. Horrible to think of it, and Nelson must, if it comes to that point, decide if it wouldn’t be best to just let nature be nature, leaving things until the creature’s natural death, then retrieve Nelson-Crane’s remains after the kelpie’s decomposition.”

I was, of course, quite sickened, but at least I knew that no such thing had really happened.
“…We also have breaking news from checkpoint Urquhart,” the reporter at the BBC anchor desk interrupted. “Urquhart Castle is now the base of one of the U.K.’s search operations and live video is courtesy of them….”
A very tired Army major was holding some items in his hand.
“… Good Evening. It’s with great sadness that I show you these retrieved items from along the shore not too far from the ground zero. These broken rings are believed to be Captain Nelson-Crane’s. This piece has in what’s left of a locket ring, strands of pink hair. This other half of a ring, the black onyx stone cleaved in half and blood stained. We should be making contact with U.S. government sources to compare DNA with the captain’s on file and….”
“…Look!” a soldier shouted, pointing to the shore, the army lights illuminating the darkness.
The major, and the cameraman immediately ran toward the men shouting and pointing to the large red eyed, coal black horse emerging up out of the water, splashing its fishy tail.
“Shoot it!” the major yelled, apparently not having been informed of the kelpie being anything but. “Use your Tasers! We want it alive!”
His soldiers followed orders and their aim was true but of course, to no avail. The monster splashed its front hooves as if it was playing in the water, his fishtail moving side to side. The ‘kelpie’ was chewing something. Blood dribbled down from its mouth. Suddenly it spat out something that looked like a hairball. As it splashed into the shallows, it floated up, revealing a scalp with black curly hair on it, streaked with blood and green goo,
Some of the soldiers began to vomit, the cameraman managed to stay upright and continued recording. Then the monster spat out a small piece of silver with a Celtic design. Just like the design the Nelson family ring had. My boy’s ring, what was left of it splashed into the shallow water of the shore.
Then the monster dove back under the water and was gone, though several divers went after it. Only to come back up shortly, dismayed and confused that it had simply vanished.
The live feed from the camera went black at a signal from the major.
“…We’ll return after a brief pause,” the anchor said, pale, and the BBC went to a test screen.

“Oh God,” Chip said, ashen faced, “I know it was a hologram but what have they done to him?”
“Admiral?” Sparks said, “I enlarged the rings.”
The photo-images of Lee’s two broken rings in the major’s hand, and the bit of silver the ‘kelpie’ had spit out, along with the chewed up scalp came into view .
I was as sickened as everyone in the Wardroom. The hologram was fake but the pieces of Lee’s rings and his scalp were real.
“SEA has something” Sparks said and a new split screen formed.
“Admiral Nelson,” a man in a clinical lab coat said, “I’m not sure if our satellites can help but here are the enhanced images that the captain had requested before…well, before…you can see the marked differences in the water temps right there, and there…indicating an underwater system of tunnels to what might be mines and caves under the hills around Loch Ness.”
“Send us the data,” Chip said, “to ONI and MI6 as well. We’ll have the Flying Sub check those tunnels out.”
“Right away. And good luck…hard to believe he’s gone.”
“Clue him in, Joseph,” I said and retreated to my cabin.

And so we waited. I think everyone knew it was best to leave me to my grief. For, alive or dead, Lee had been mutilated, and had suffered only God knew what. Lee might even have been traded off to another country, or he might even have been executed by his captors.
ONI was pretty certain that Gustav Gamma had nothing to with the hologram as he’s been quite vocal about the theft of several of his patents, his artificial intelligent hologram one of them. He’s been put under protective custody in case whoever this evil mastermind is who took my boy might try to do harm to the inventor as well.
God help us