“My grandfather died of throat and stomach cancers before I was born. Big shocker there, right? The U.S. Navy had a Harvard biochemist inject sixty-four prisoners with cow blood. And, get this, Oak Ridge Labs injected eleven patients—patients—at the Massachusetts General Hospital in Boston with uranium. The United States has a long history of injecting foreign elements into peoples’ bodies to find out what will happen. Sure, sometimes they find a cure to something, but it’s usually accidental.”
Hawkins had no reason to doubt the man. If Bray was an expert on any two things, it was biology—including the history of the science—and his home state. “But what could be learned by binding the turtle’s shell with a plastic band?”
“Adaptability,” came Joliet’s voice. She stood in the open doorway, clutching the frame as the ship rose up on another wave. “To see how the growing turtle’s body would adapt to the constriction. We know the intestines elongated, and the muscle groups separated, but there is still more to uncover, like how the turtle’s neurology and nervous system were affected.” She looked at Bray lying in the bed. “You know, it’s easier if you stand.”
“I know, I know!” Bray threw his legs over the side of his cot and sat up. He looked about to say something when he groaned and held on to the top bunk. “I hate both of you.”
“It’s possible the turtle would have lived far longer if not for all the plastic it consumed.” Joliet frowned. “While I would never condone the experiment, there is a lot to be learned from it.”
“Might as well benefit from someone else torturing the animal, right?” Bray asked. “I thought you Canucks were all touchy-feely, leave-your-doors-unlocked types.”
Joliet’s face scrunched up with anger. “Hey, this is different!”
“Not to PETA,” Bray said, his grin revealing that the dig was in jest. “That was for making me sit up.”
Joliet was still fuming when she looked at Hawkins and saw his smile. He tried to erase it, but failed. He sensed her frustration with Bray extend to him.
“Have either of you seen Kam?” she asked.
Bray answered quickly. “I didn’t think he was your ty—”
“Bray,” Hawkins warned. Continuing the roast of Joliet might help the man keep his supper down, but it wouldn’t end well—for either man, it seemed. “Not since we left the lab. He looked a little green. Probably in his quarters trying to forget what the inside of a loggerhead looks like.”
“Well, he’s not.”
Kam, like the three of them, was nonessential to the ship. As a technology intern, his official duties included software updates and hardware fixes, but since the systems on the Magellan were fairly new and up-to-date, Kam most often found himself cleaning, or fetching coffee. Hawkins wondered if the young man’s performance in the biolab was an attempt to elevate his status, and perhaps be invited to take part in endeavors more rewarding than brewing the perfect cup of Folgers Classic Roast.
“Why are you so worried about him, anyway?” Bray asked. “He’s a big boy.”
“Asks the man hiding in his room with his big, strong Hawkins to take care of him.” She said the last part with a pouty face that made both men grin. “Try to deny it, but you like Kam as much as the rest of us.”
Bray just stared.
“You show him your god-awful magic tricks,” she said. “He’s sat through each and every one of your boring Webcasts. And I know he helped you with the Saran Wrap prank. I caught him in the hallway, keeping watch while you covered the toilet.”
“That little shit,” Hawkins said. He’d been on the receiving end of that prank. He’d gotten Bray back, but now he had to get Kam, and it seemed, Joliet, who’d kept her mouth shut.
“Fine,” Bray said, and then groaned as the ship tilted forward. “I like the twerp, but I’m not his mother. I’m not going to Hulk smash my way through the ship just to find him. Maybe he’s in the head?” Bray asked with a groan. “I might be headed there myself.”
“Checked there, too,” Joliet said.
“There are nearly forty bathrooms on board,” Hawkins noted. “Maybe he wanted privacy?”
Before anyone could answer, the ship listed sharply to the side. Hawkins fell forward, landing on Bray in the lower bunk. Joliet spilled to the floor, sliding until she slammed to a stop against the wall.
As the ship righted itself, Hawkins pulled himself off of Bray. “That’s not good.”
“What the hell happened?” Bray asked.
Joliet pushed herself up, leaning against the wall. “Wave hit the starboard side. The ship must have turned.”
“Aren’t you supposed to steer into the waves?” Bray asked. “Why would Drake let the ocean T-bone us?”
The ship rolled hard again, pushing Hawkins back onto the bed. When it passed, he said, “He wouldn’t.”
Joliet made for the door. “Something’s wrong.”
Hawkins stumbled out of the room behind her.
“Where are you going?” Bray asked.
“The bridge,” Hawkins answered as he moved down the hall.
“Oh, hell,” Bray muttered and gave chase.
Hawkins paused with Joliet at the bottom of the staircase leading up. They hung on to the railings as the floor shook and a loud rumbling echoed through the ship.
Bray stumbled up and took hold of Hawkins’s offered arm. “The hell is that?”
“Waves are breaking against the hull,” Hawkins guessed.