Project Hyperion (A Kaiju Thriller) (Kaiju #4)

Cooper nodded. “We briefed Stephens on everything, including Cugliari’s failure to respond to the crisis in Portland. He’s also seen the footage and there is no doubt that this crisis and its management falls under the purview of our office, and our office alone. He promised that all future requests would be fast-tracked and granted without question.”


“Good,” I say and turn to Watson. “Now, what have you found out?”

“I know who the creature is,” he says.

“What do you mean, who?” Woodstock asks.

Watson starts cleaning his glasses with his T-shirt. It’s a nervous habit that reveals he’s about to say something he thinks we won’t believe. “Well, it’s more than one ‘who’ actually.” He puts the glasses back on. “It—she—is two.”





32



“You’re saying our giant man-eating monster has multiple personalities?” I ask.

“Maybe,” Watson says. “I suppose. But not really. Your DNA is a combination of your mother and father, but you aren’t born with their personalities...though that might not be true in this case.”

“Not making a ton of sense,” I say.

Watson sits behind his three-screen computer station. He doesn’t necessarily need it, but it’s where he does his best thinking, or so he claims. I think it’s more of a security-blanket type of thing. The glow of electronics puts him at ease. Makes him less nervous. Even if he wasn’t overweight, his tech dependence would keep him out of the field.

“Let me backtrack for a minute,” he says. “I think I know who Maigo was.”

“Was?” Collins asks.

“She died about a week ago. And not well.” He brings the report up on his computer screen and turns to it. I know he doesn’t need to read it. He doesn’t forget anything he reads. But turning away from the three sets of eyes locked on him probably adds another layer of social defense. “Maigo Tilly.”

“Tilly?” Collins says. “The name is familiar.”

“Her father is Alexander Tilly. The third. They’re Boston elite. His wife was in the news a lot, for charity donations and because she was a babe.”

“Again with the was,” I say.

Watson nods. “Mrs. Tilly was murdered in the family’s penthouse. Report says they think that Maigo walked in on the murder and was killed so she couldn’t identify the killer. Mr. Tilly is officially a person of interest, but there is no physical evidence linking him to the crime—”

“Prints don’t matter because it’s his home,” Collins says. “Unless they found them on the murder weapon.”

“Which hasn’t been found,” Watson says. “Maigo fell into a coma. Might have survived if she had received a liver transplant.”

“A transplant,” I say, sensing a connection. “BioLance was working on rapid organ growth and transplantation. Could she have been a test subject?”

“There is no doubt about that,” Watson says.

I’m not sure I want to ask, but I do. “Why?”

“Ashley gave us the samples you collected—I told you those Ziplocs would come in handy—and we had them tested in the FBI lab in Danvers.”

“You can get returns that fast?” I ask.

“Not normally, but I had them test it against names that had come up. Since Maigo was deceased and the case was an open investigation, we were able to compare the samples.” He frowns. “The...husk of human skin you found...”

“It was hers,” I say for him. “It was Maigo’s. They grew her.”

“It would seem so, but...” He runs his hands through his hair and pulls it a little. “Okay. Let’s switch gears for a minute so this makes sense. Remember Nemesis?”

“The Greek word written in blood,” I say, tensing at the memory.

“Right,” he says, “but it’s not just a word, it’s a name.”

“What kinda name is Nemesis?” Woodstock asks.

“The Greek goddess kind,” Watson says. “Nemesis was the personification of vengeance, retribution and cold, hard justice. Some legends depict her as being so consumed with avenging her subjects that she laid waste to everything and everyone in her path, including those who prayed to her in the first place, which some scholars view as a judgment on society.”

“A society that allows for horrible things to happen is just as guilty as the individual who commits the act?” I say. It’s a twisted way of thinking, but in a weird sort of way, it makes sense.

“Right,” he says. “Nemesis is most often depicted as a beautiful woman with wings. She’s occasionally holding the scales of justice, but more often a sword. And there are a few images, some of the oldest, that depict her wrath as a dark, destructive form closer to—”

“A monster,” I say.

He nods.

“So you’re saying that this creature is an ancient goddess come to judge humanity?” Woodstock says. “Kind of hard to swallow, don’t you think?”

“I’m saying that this...creature, which we know for a fact is real, by the way, might have been the inspiration for the Nemesis myth. As the story was passed down verbally, the monster became a woman and once adopted into the Greek canon, the woman became the beautiful daughter of Zeus.”

Woodstock grunts his approval and rubs his chin.