The Deep Zone

“I thought of you as a good friend. With affection and trust. But that was all.”

“You’re lying.” He spat out the word, and it was the first time she had ever seen him really angry. His face reddened and his features contracted. “Why are you doing this? Don’t you remember our lunches together? All the things we talked about?”

She did remember the lunches. Sandwiches and coffee in the grubby little canteen. They had talked about the weather, politics, co-workers, and baseball. Period. Then, suddenly, she understood what was happening and mentally slapped herself for not having figured it out before, but fatigue had dulled her brain. This was not the first time a man had conjured up a fantasy romance with her. Misinterpreting casual remarks, reading too much into smiles and accidental touches, investing meetings and phone calls and emails with imagined meaning.

She also knew how to dispel such fantasy once and for all.

“Of course I remember the lunches,” she said. “And our talks. I don’t remember talking about anything romantic. But it doesn’t matter. Perception is reality. So if I gave you the wrong impression, or misled you in any way, even unintentionally, I apologize. It was certainly not my intention. I thought of you as my friend, and just that. Still do, in fact.”

As she’d been speaking, he had been moving toward her. Slowly, not threateningly, listening carefully to her words. She was about to hold up her hands when he stopped a couple of feet away from her. He nodded at the rum-laced cups of tea. His expression had changed, leaving the kind of pained sadness she had seen on the faces of people at funerals. Sadness mixed with anger.

“Are you sure you don’t want to have a drink with me, Hallie?”

“I already said no. Now let’s put this behind us and get going.”

“I am sorry, Hallie,” he said. “I really, truly am.”

His right hand came up from beside his thigh, holding a small black flashlight. Except that it was not a flashlight. She heard a crack like a live wire arcing, saw a sparking blue flash. Something bit her in the neck, like cobra’s fangs lancing her flesh, and suddenly a million wasps were stinging her all at one time, inside and out, her whole body erupting with more pain than she had thought could exist in any world, enough pain to kill her many times over. Explosions of light seared her brain. She tried to scream, but her muscles were frozen.

And then she was gone.

THIRTY-FIVE

THE FIRST THING HALLIE HEARD WAS THE MELODY OF “SWEET Caroline.” Cahner was bent over his pack, putting in odds and ends, whistling cheerfully all the while.

Her whole body hurt. She understood that Cahner had used a Taser on her. He must have been carrying it the whole time. Everybody changes in caves. She had known that coming in. She had seen it before, seen cavers panic, lose heart, even attack teammates, becoming so deranged that their partners had to tie them up with climbing rope. But Cahner had been carrying a Taser. That implied premeditation.

Hallie was lying on her back, on top of her bound hands, an uncomfortable position. When she rolled to one side, the pain was such that she made a small, involuntary scream. Coming fully awake, she felt like someone had beaten her all over. There was an unpleasant, coppery taste in her mouth, and it was painful to swallow. From the smell, she could tell that she had vomited at some point. She was shivering from the cold. How long had she been out?

“Finally waking up?” Cahner’s voice was pleasant, but not like before. “You slept longer than I’d expected. But I think I had that thing set a bit too high. Live and learn.”

She started to speak, found her throat muscles paralyzed. Swallowed, coughed, spit bile, tried again. “Al. Why are you doing this? You have to let me go.”

He looked up from his packing chores, and now his voice was not so pleasant. “You’re quite wrong about that. I don’t have to let you go. In fact, from now on there will not be one thing in the world that I will ever have to do.”

It was hard enough to think through the shock-induced fog in her brain. Now Cahner seemed determined to speak in riddles. She forced herself to focus, and the effort made her face and head hurt. “Why do you have me tied up? We’re partners, for Christ’s sake.”

“We were partners. I had honestly thought there was a future for us. Hoped and prayed there was. With this thing, the life we could have made together—you cannot imagine.”

“What thing? I don’t understand you, Al.”

“Such a life it could have been. But it isn’t what you want. I understand, really I do. Beautiful young woman, plain old man. Is my heart broken? Of course.” His voice turned colder. “But broken hearts mend, don’t they? And ten million dollars can do a lot of mending, believe me.”

“What are you talking about?” Despite the pain, she struggled to a sitting position, leaning against a boulder.

“I’m talking about the money I will be paid when I give them the moonmilk.”

“What?” If the pain throughout her body had not been so real, Hallie might have assumed she was still dreaming. Finished with the pack, Cahner cinched its top and came over to squat on his heels in front of her. He let his light shine straight into her eyes.

“Of course. It must have occurred to you at some point how valuable that extremophile would be to certain people.”

“We have to give it to BARDA. The new antibiotics—”

“No, that’s not the plan anymore. It never was, actually. We—well, I—will give the moonmilk to my friends, who have already deposited half of my fee. Have you ever seen a bank statement showing a balance of five million dollars? Unbelievable. When I give them the material, they give me the rest.”

It wasn’t possible. She could not believe that Al Cahner could do such a thing. She had worked with the man every day for two years. He had nearly wept when they threw her out. One of the nicest men she had ever known. All during this expedition he had been steady, kind, ready to help.

And yet…

Of course it was possible. Failure warped people in unknowable ways.

Still, Al Cahner was no psychopathic demon. She knew there were better angels in him. And they could be reasoned with.

“Al. You can’t do that. Think about what you’re saying.”

“I have been thinking about it, Hallie. Believe me. For a very long time. Do you know how long I’ve worked for the government?”

“I think you said once it was almost twenty years.”

“Nineteen going on twenty, to be exact. Do you know how much money I make?”

“Of course not.”

“Eighty-seven thousand, four hundred and seventy-six dollars a year.”

“I’m not talking about the money.”

“No, but I am. Any third-year biologist at Merck makes more than that.”

Hallie’s head hurt, her body hurt, her thoughts kept turning into wisps of fog, but she had to focus. There must be some way to get through to him.

“It’s never been about the money for people like us, Al. It’s about doing the science. To help those who need it.”

“The science, yes. Forgive me if I point out that such fine sentiments are easier to entertain in your thirties than in your fifties. Truthfully, Hallie, when I was your age, I said the same kinds of things you did just now.”

“And I know you still feel them. We spent too much time together for me not to believe that.”

He inhaled, let out a long breath. There was genuine pain in his voice when he spoke. “I will always cherish that time. I need for you to believe that. Even if it wasn’t exactly… what I thought it was.”

“I do believe you. And for that very reason, I need for you to tell me exactly what is going on, Al. You owe us that. This is not how friends treat each other.”