Jo-Mary Lake
28 July, 1984
0900 Local Time



       "Do you remember your ballistics?" Rachel asked
       "Oui, madam," Jordan replied.
       "Alors tirer," Rachel replied. In English it meant open fire.
       The Browning Hunting Citori shotgun recoiled heavily as Jordan
pulled the trigger. The events of the previous evening mandated that
today was for firearms training, and the boy was the first to practice
since he was the only one firing an unfamiliar round. The Citori was
chambered and choked for 3.5 inch magnum, 12 gauge ball ammunition, and
they surprised young master Carpentier when he missed by five feet a
target that was only fifty yards away. It was one of several small trash
bags that were filled with fallen leaves, and it was moving in the wind
as it dangled from a tree branch. Nevertheless, Jordan had expected to
hit it.

       "Souci!" he exclaimed when he did not.

       Rachel couldn't help but laugh, but she softened it with a gentle
hand on her little friend's shoulder. "Reload one round and try again."
       Jordan quite expertly broke open his gun and extracted the spent
shell. He then thumbed in a new round. Rachel even noticed that he
loaded the bottom barrel since he knew that the top one was still hot
from having just been used. He actually knew what it meant to have a
live shell cook off in the open breach of his Browning, and he also knew
how to minimize the risk. He had obviously been properly and extensively
educated in the safe handling of firearms. Lastly, he simultaneously
closed the Citori in the same motion that he used in bringing it up
level below his eye. In another split second his next shot was on it's
way.
       "Boy, you are GOOD!"
       "Comme vrai?" Jordan asked in surprise. His last shot had hit the
target, but was well off its center.
       "You were closer with your second shot, but that's not the point.
It's your expert handling of the gun that's so revealing," Rachel smiled
and said.
       "Merci."
       "Reload another single round, and try once more."
       "Bien meilleur!" Jordan exclaimed when he saw that his third shot
was centered. In English it meant much better.
       Sitting on a boulder behind Rachel and Jordan, Michelle was a bit
more subdued. This was shooting, and her son was enjoying it too much.
She very artfully managed to temper his enthusiasm by showing him just
the right amount of her own. "Fantastique, mon fils."
       "Merci, Mère," the boy more calmly replied. Both mother and son
were conversing casually in French instead of their customary German.
This was for the benefit of Rachel, who spoke English, Spanish, French
and Latin, but not much German.
       But Mrs. Quest's smile was a mile wide at the moment. "Load two
rounds and fire at will."
       Both shots were right on.
       "Great! You seem to have the feel for it now!"
       "Oui, madame," Jordan happily replied.
       "Michelle, it's your turn," Rachel said.
       Her raven-haired and regal friend stepped forward wearing a
knowing smile. Her first shot was right on the money.
       "Where DID you two learn to shoot?" Rachel exclaimed.
       "I myself shoot trap and skeet. Alain and Jordan do likewise, as
well as hunt."
       But Mrs. Quest wasn't satisfied. "Shooting trap and skeet
explains how well you shoot high-powered, high-grained ball rounds?"
       "I shoot quite often, Rachel." Michelle was in fact skirting the
issue and hoping that it would deflect friend's interest. She was
protecting the true identity of her family, an almost unbelievable story
that was not currently known by more than four living human beings, one
of which was Michelle herself, and another of which was Alain. The last
two happened to be his parents, who were becoming old enough that their
son and daughter in-law were going to have to confide in others so that
the knowledge itself lived on. Michelle thought that Rachel might be
someone that she could speak to, though she was currently remaining
silent about it because she was not yet sure. She was sure that her
friend herself was worthy. However, she was likewise sure that Rachel
tended to be over-protective of the very reason that the story was so
important. At the absolute center of the issue was Jordan. And while it
was true that he had to be protected, it was equally true that he be
just as carefully risked.

       Michelle inwardly frowned. QUITE A JUGGLING ACT, THAT. ESPECIALLY
ON THIS MOST UNUSUAL OF TRIPS.

       "That's amazing, by the way," Rachel was saying. "It seems
unusual that you married young, had a son AND managed not to break your
stride in college."
       "Oh, it WAS hard work. Alain was also in school, and if it hadn't
been for his parents. Well, things would have worked out differently."
       "You two did well, Michelle. You still are," Rachel said as she
looked back at Jordan and smiled.
       "He's becoming just a bit headstrong, but we're happy with him so
far."
       "Je souhaiter!" (I wish!) Jordan smiled and said in chagrin.
       "I'll explain later, dear. Would you take this inside the cabin
and clean it for us, while I practice with Old Bess?" And Michelle
handed her son the Citori. He expressed himself with a slight sigh, but
he did so while reaching out for the shotgun. Once he was out of
earshot, Michelle spoke once more to Rachel. "Do you see what I mean
about his being headstrong?"
       "It's there, all right. It was smooth the way that you tested him
for it. I also noticed that you let him know that you know, which would
seem to allow him the opportunity to adjust for himself before you have
to intervene as a parent."
       "He is possessed of fairly good insight for his age, and thus he
in fact understands how to... how does one say it? Read between the
lines?"
       "You know that's how it's said!" Rachel laughed.
       "You've caught me at my acte de modestie once again."
       "You hardly need to act, Michelle."
       "I truly hope not. As for Jordan, one learns quickly with such a
son."
       "I hope to experience that for myself very soon," Rachel agreed.
       "Does Benton agree that it's time?" Michelle asked very gently.
       "Oh, yes."
       "And have you begun to choose names?"
       "We've actually settled on the names," Rachel smiled. "If we have
a son, he will be called Jonathon Douglas in honor of Benton's father
and my own. If we have a girl, she will be named Jacklyn Rhea in honor
of our mothers."
       "I needn't ask which mother was yours," Michelle smiled. She knew
that Rhea had to have been Rachel's mother.
       "No," her friend smiled and agreed. "Have you settled on any
names as yet?"
       "On the girl's name, yes. If we are so blessed, she will be named
Danielle Marie. We haven't yet discussed the names that we might choose
for a second son."
       "I'll cross my fingers and toes for you, Michelle."
       "As will I for yourself and Benton." she then sighed.
       "What is it?" Rachel asked.
       "Alain. He's going to be very busy in the South Seas. I'm afraid
that we might begin to drift apart as your friends."
       "No! You're not going with him. I mean— Oh, dear! This isn't
coming out right at all!"
       Michelle smiled in understanding. "Oh, I know. Shall we agree to
remain close even if our men may not?"
       "Absolutely! I'll want your advice very often on mothering, dear
friend."
       "Why, thank-you." And both ladies laughed. After a few more
moments of remonstrance, Rachel carried on.
       "Well, this is Bess. She's a ten gauge Remington choked for the
minimum possible pattern, which is still quite wide due to how short her
barrels are. Her best effective range is around thirty feet, and so we
should move up closer to the targets for your first shot."

       And with that, they did.



       Inside the cabin, Benton and Alain were compiling their notes and
researching the mutegenic properties of methyl mercury when Jordan
walked in and greeted them. "Bon matin, ma père ...Docteur Quest."
       "Jordi," Benton replied.
       "Mon fils," Alain replied. "Ou est mère?" But just then, the
ungodly blast of Old Bess, and the absolutely hilarious expression that
came over Jordan's face, answered Dr. Carpentier's question. "What in
the world?" And he rose from his chair and quickly walked out onto the
cabin's front deck to watch.
       Benton's eyes were merry, and as he rose he guided Jordan along
with an arm around the boy's shoulder. In a moment, all three stood
outside and watched the ladies practice.
       "That thing absolutely devastated her first target!" Alain
exclaimed.
       "And with only one barrel," Benton added with a sly smile.
       "THAT was ONE barrel?"
       "Watch," Benton replied.

       Ka-BOOM!!
       If they wanted to shoot any more, the women would have to fill a
few more leaf bags.

       "What a cannon!" Alain exclaimed. Jordan was just dropping his
hands from having covered up his ears.
       "That's the effect that we're looking for," Benton quietly
agreed. "We want to try to take the creature with our anestha rifles.
But in the event that all else fails to stop the beast, Old Bess will
extract a terrible price from it."
       "I can understand what you mean by terrible. It probably won't
kill it. But if you fire that thing at its face..." Alain left the
unmentionable thought out in the air for Benton to explain.
       "It will at the very least deprive it of its sight, and thus most
of its ability to track a victim quickly."
       "Did your father in-law really give that unholy howitzer to
Rachel as a wedding present?"
       "Yes, that and a box full of shells that he personally loaded
with premium rock salt. You should have seen the look on his face when
she and I opened the gifts at our shower. Everyone, and I mean EVERYONE
else but Doug laughed themselves silly. He, however, meant business. She
is his only child."
       "And he is aware that you come from a large family, and that he
is self-made while you are the beneficiary of a long line of successful
men."
       "That's presumptuous of you, my friend," Benton smiled. He was
aware that Alain was similarly benefited.
       "But is it untrue?"
       "No, he sees it in exactly that way."
       In a moment, the ladies walked up. Michelle's face was deadpan,
but Rachel's was lit to its fullest. "I thought that she'd hesitate to
pull both triggers at once!"
       Alain just beamed and caught his wife in a big hug.
       "What's the matter, Jordi?" Benton smiled and asked. "Did you
want to try Old Bess for yourself?"
       "I suppose not, Dr. Quest." And everyone laughed at that. The
sawed-off Remington twin had almost knocked the boy's 5'11" mother down
when she fired both barrels. No one had any doubts as to whether or not
it would do so to an eleven year-old.
       Rachel then spoke out. "Benton, we're short a gun if both you and
Alain want to carry two. And no, I DON'T feel comfortable with allowing
Michelle to carry Bess."
       "You knew I'd ask?" Dr. Quest smiled.
       "Not really. I just thought it would be best to go ahead and get
it out in the open."
       "I'll tell you what: Alain needs to take the boat over to Quakish
Lake and deliver our Raccoon to Millinocket so that it can be flown out
for tests. He can take Michelle with him and visit O'Hallaran's."
       "O'Hallaran's?" Alain asked.
       "He owns a very fine gun, rod and reel shop in Millinocket," Dr.
Quest replied.
       "And he'll sell us a gun for Michelle?"
       "He will when I ask the state police to authorize it, and you're
already going to be speaking to them so that they know about our
findings to date."
       Alain looked inquiringly at Michelle, who smiled and nodded in
agreement.
       "Then it's settled," Benton said.
       "Very well," Alain agreed.
       In half an hour, everyone met on the dock as Dr. Carpentier and
Michelle prepared to leave. "Remember that the forecast is for rain
beginning this evening. We might decide to stay in town."
       "Call us up if that's the case, Alain," Dr. Quest replied.
       "I'll do that. Just be sure to get to Kokadjo in the morning,
whether we're back or not."
       "I'll be there if the helicopters can fly." And with that,
everyone waved good-bye, and the boat soon disappeared into the narrow
little channel that joined Jo-Mary Lake to her larger sisters.
       "Why are we going to Kokadjo, Dr. Quest?" the now somber Jordan
asked. Reclusive surroundings, monster stories, weapons practice,
threats of rain, and the departure of his parents were beginning to wear
on him.
       "Do you remember what I told you about John Hawkes' and his
people?"
       "Yes. They are sick with something, possibly mercury poisoning it
seems. Is Kokadjo where they live?"
       Benton threw back his head and laughed. He had told Jordan only
that there was a strong probability that John's people were ill. "You've
been paying close attention and adding things up properly, Jordi!"
       "Thank-you, Doctor."
       "Very good! Kokadjo is indeed where John and many of his people
live. With that knowledge added to what you already know, can you come
to your own conclusions?"
       "We need to test Mr. Hawkes' people for mercury poisoning."
       "Exactly, Jordi. Exactly." And with that, Benton, Rachel and
Jordan retired into the quiet little cabin. Dr. Quest needed to write a
summary of all that he and Alain had learned to the minute. Rachel and
Jordan, however, had very little to do other than to clean Bess and the
Citori. They did that, then ate lunch while Benton wrote up in the loft.
When he finally came down hungry, but with the completed summary in his
hand, he stopped short and smiled. His wife and the boy were sound
asleep on the sofa, a picture of love that seemed only slightly marred
by the clash of their hair colors. Benton decided to do something about
that when he and Rachel returned to Rockport, and he wasn't thinking
about anything as easy as asking his lady to color her hair.
       Still smiling, the Doctor very quietly walked out onto the
cabin's front deck, where he then scanned a certain paragraph of his
summary. METHYL MERCURY... USED BY THE LUMBER INDUSTRY AS A DISBONDING
AGENT TO PREVENT THE BUILDUP OF ALGAE ON PRE-PROCESSED TIMBER. IT'S
WIDESPREAD USE WAS REPORTED TO HAVE BEEN DISCONTINUED IN 1972, WHEN
REPORTS OF ITS USE WERE SHOWN TO HAVE CAUSED A DRAMATIC INCREASE IN
MISCARRIAGES AND BIRTH DEFECTS AMONG THE HUMAN POPULATION IN MINIMOTO,
JAPAN.
       A frown replaced Benton's warm smile, turning him cold. And
looking up and then over what was, on the surface, a fine and pristine
woodland scene, he couldn't help but wonder...

       METHYL MERCURY? WHY HERE, AND WHY NOW? MY REFERENCES SAY THAT IT
IS A CHEAP SOLUTION TO THE LUMBER INDUSTRY'S TIMBER PRESERVATION
PROBLEM. ...BUT IS IT SO MUCH SO THAT THEY WOULD RISK THE VERY EXISTENCE
OF THEIR OPERATIONS HERE IN MAINE FOR WHAT COULD BE NO MORE THAN A
MARGINAL EFFECT ON THEIR ECONOMIC BOTTOM LINE? IF SO, THEN WHAT ELSE
MIGHT THEY BE DOING IN THEIR PURSUIT OF EVEN GREATER PROFITS?

       WHAT ELSE HAUNTS THIS PLACE?



Millinocket
28 July, 1984
2100 Local Time



       As expected, the weather turned foul due to the combined effects
of daytime heating and lower than average air pressure in the region of
the White Mountains. It was a normal pattern of development that would
cause nimbocumulus clouds to form up during the day, and to in turn dump
their rain in the cooler condensed air of the early evening. It was also
a development that caused Alain and Michelle to find a room in town in
order to await the passage of the storms.
       "We absolutely do not need the likes of this," Dr. Carpentier
said as he stared outside in anger.
       Michelle embraced him from behind. "I have a bad feeling about
it, as well. Do you suppose that we should leave as soon as the rain
stops, as opposed to waiting until in the morning?"
       "It's going to rain until well after Midnight, and so there's no
way that we could tie up at Jo-Mary Lakes before the sun comes up
tomorrow. I believe that we should go, though."
       "Then we should set the alarm clock to wake us up early, and try
to sleep right away."
       Alain turned around so that he faced his wife, and their eyes
locked. But after a moment, he nodded in agreement and held her. "It
hasn't been much of a vacation so far, has it?"
       "Oh, I don't know. It certainly is exciting, if it isn't
particularly restful."
       Dr. Carpentier couldn't believe it. "We are without our son, who
is spending the night sharing the back country with two dear friends and
that monster. How is it that you can face this with such confidence?"
       "To be perfectly honest, I'm so afraid that I couldn't face it in
any other way," Michelle admitted. "We did ask for this, after all.
Benton did offer us our choice not to take part."
       "And you know that we couldn't possibly refuse."
       "Not this need and not these friends. As for Jordan, I just don't
know. Might we have gone too far at exposing him to all of this?"
       Alain thought about it. "Perhaps. He's with two extremely capable
people at the moment, though."
       "That is true," his wife well understood.
       "Yes. You know, I'm just about ready to tell Benton everything
about us."
       Michelle smiled. "As am I with Rachel. Still..." And both her
voice and her smile fell away as she thought very deeply about her boy.
       "Do you believe that you can sleep?" Alain asked.
       "I can as long as I know that the alert function is working on
our radio." This, they both knew, was an alarm that was built into the
VHF portable communicator that they carried. The communicator as a whole
was an early prototype of a high speed HF system of Benton's own design,
and as such it was currently too low in power that it could be received
at Jo-Mary Lakes. However, Benton had the much more powerful backpack
radio. On that unit was an alert transmission button that would, if it
were ever pressed, cause Alain and Michelle's communicator to set off
screaming in systemic sympathy. They could then at least listen on their
little communicator, and if necessary call back to Benton from the boat,
or outright raise the general alarm by alerting the state police.
       Dr. Carpentier was as relieved to have the alert function as his
wife was. "I'm glad that we checked it when we called them from the
state police station. It definitely helps to know that it's working."
       "Shall we try to sleep?" Michelle asked.
       "Yes, but not before I set this alarm clock so that it wakes us
up in a few hours."



Mary's Bend
Espy River, East of Wadleigh Mountain
29 July, 1984
0230 Local Time



       The Gary family had not brought a tent with them into the White
Mountains. As such, the storms had made it quite a rough night for them.
Oh, they had imitation oilskin ponchos and a rain proof sheet, the
latter of which they rigged up as a lean-to. Still, they had not slept
while it had been raining. They were presently sleeping now that it was
not. The father was wise enough in woodcraft to have kept his firewood
dry, and a store of rocks, and after the rain had stopped he dug a deep
fire pit in the now soaked and soft ground. So in wonderfully cozy
waterproof zero-degree sleeping bags, all three Garys passed the
remainder of the night passed out beside the heated rocks beneath the
dying fire.

       They had themselves only a few more moments to live.

       The father, being exhausted from having performed most of the
work of keeping the camp dry, had fallen fast asleep. The boy, in the
manner of his kind, similarly slept very soundly. The girl, however, was
restless. Possibly she had a premonition, as girls often do. Or perhaps
she was simply uncomfortable. Whatever it was, she was semiconscious and
aware of her surroundings.
       The clouds had been carried away by the winds, and the gibbous
moon was accompanied by the uncaring stars. Thus it was light enough
that when the great shape appeared over her the girl somehow sensed it
by its shadow and steps. Opening her eyes and seeing the creature in all
of its horror, she screamed, and at the same time it roared and slashed
her once with a great sweep of its talons, hurting her deeply. The
father snapped wide awake at the first sound, and at the sight of the
unthinkable very nearly flew out of his sleeping bag in order to counter
the thing which endangered his family.
       Too late. Somehow the monster sensed him coming, and turning, it
caught him in its huge arms and tore him apart. The boy, who had somehow
managed to trap himself entirely within his sleeping bag, rose hoping
and screaming as he tried with all his efforts to free himself and fly
from the destroyer. It saw that, too. And with a sweep of one heavy arm,
it sent the young man in the sleeping bag hurtling against a nearby
boulder with such force that he was killed instantly.
       The now maimed and terrified girl, weakened by the loss of so
much of her blood, was crying and trying to crawl away. To late to play
dead in that she would have otherwise died due to cardiovascular
collapse, she had almost made the river when the creature caught her.
       ...And once again, the agony of slashing and rending death was
played out high within the confines of the White Mountains of Maine.



Quakish Lake
Millinocket Town Docks
29 July, 1984
0330 Local Time



       The sky was also crystal clear and eerily aglow over Millinocket,
as Alain and Michelle cast off and left the still sleeping little town
behind. Amazingly, neither one felt tired in the least. They were too
aware of the terror and its possibilities, and they desired to return to
Jo-Mary Lakes very quickly.
       Perhaps too much so. No sooner had they passed through yet
another narrow waterway that joined Quakish Lake to Twin Lakes, when
Alain throttled up the Sea Ray's Mercruiser inboard motor, and he
immediately saw the engine's water temperature gauge rise into the
yellow arc and proceed on towards the red band.
       "Oh, no."
       "What is it?" Michelle asked with all due concern.
       "The engine's water temperature... It's climbing way up out of
limits." Alain immediately shut the motor down and let the boat coast to
a stop. He also started up the auxiliary generator in order to power the
Sea Ray's lights and save its batteries. He then sat down heavily across
from his wife in the boat's open lounge. This was the U-shaped area just
behind where the boat's driver would sit, and it was where this
particular driver looked up into the still dark sky and said to his God:
"In a boat that is built by the finest name in marine equipment
manufacturing, and one that belongs to a man whom I know takes the best
care of it, this can only mean that You must be busy elsewhere at the
moment."
       "Alain!" Michelle quietly exclaimed.
       "I know. ...Forgive me, Father," he sincerely repented. He then
began to strip down for swimming.
       "What are you going to do?" his wife asked.
       "The boat's engine is cooled by an open loop water system, as
opposed to your car which has a radiator, or closed loop system. That
means that our Sea Ray makes use of an impeller that draws cooling water
from the lake through an intake screen, and then pushes it through the
motor in order to cool it. The hot water then exits through another
screen and flows out into the propeller's wake."
       Michelle already knew about all of that, though she didn't object
to his explanation since she knew that it would be counter-productive.
"So you need to check the screens to see if they're blocked?"
       "Exactly. With luck we can be back under way in a few minutes."
Alain then sat on the swim platform, and, crossing his heart like the
good Catholic man that he was, smoothly passed from there below the
surface, where he could be seen swimming in the faint glow of his dive
light. He seemed to check the back of the engine's drive system, and
then he came up for air. "It's not the water outlet," he reported. He
then dove completely under the boat in order to examine the water inlet.

       Lacking anything else to do at the moment, Michelle looked down
to her left at the bench where she had been oiling Jordan's brand new
shotgun. It was a Browning BPS Deer Special, a really good gun that was
just like the one that he normally carried.
       NOT TO WORRY, she thought to herself. She knew that, because she
and Alain were not with him, Jordan could choose from between the
Citori, and both the Buck Special automatic shotgun and the anestha
rifle that his father would have otherwise carried. BETTER THAN YOUR
CURRENTLY HAPLESS PARENTS, THOSE. But she didn't really mean that.
       With a bit of a splash and a deep breath, Dr. Carpentier again
appeared on the surface of the water. He did not look happy.
       Michelle spoke, since Alain obviously didn't trust himself to.
"Come up and dry yourself, and when the boat is cool again we'll take it
back to Millinocket. You can work on it there and have access to parts."

       Dr. Carpentier looked at her and smiled. "You understand these
things much more than I think that you do. I do believe that I'm guilty
of an oversight where you're concerned."
       "No. You have never once looked past me, or in any other way
taken me for granted. It is simply that I consider it my place to be
ready to support you in all that you do, and..."
       "Go on," Alain replied when his wife stalled at her explanation.
But he knew that she WANTED to be caught at what was on her mind. They
were both like that— romantic, dear, and ever looking for ways to play
with and please one another.
       Michelle thus continued. "Well, I also feel that I should, at
least on occasion, endeavor to surprise you."
       Alain completely lit up at that. "Surprise me, my lady? You could
NEVER surprise me. You delight me, you make me feel lucky to be blessed
with your presence in my life, and at that you even save me. But you are
far too deep in good character that I'll ever look past you. It would be
like looking out into the heavens and expecting to see some end to the
infinite universe."
       "Would you like a nice dry towel?" Michelle asked, smiling.
       Alain laughed. "My darling, that's exactly what I'd like at this
time." And with that said, he climbed aboard and dried himself. And
after that he kissed and caught his wife, holding her to him for some
time.

       The boat's engine was still too hot. But in waiting for it to
cool, those two found their warmth in each other.



Kokadjo
29 July, 1984
0954 Local Time



       Kokadjo was a small trading post. Located perhaps five miles east
of Moosehead Lake, it overlooked the west end of First Roach Pond just
to the south of the town. It was otherwise surrounded by the forest and
overlooked by Baker and Number 4 Mountains. It's inhabitants included
members of both the Penobscot and Piscataquis Native American tribes,
many of which had contributed to the general prosperity of both the town
and the region in general. They built and operated a small general store
and gas station next to the private road which passed by to the east, as
well as maintained their homes farther back within the forest. The store
was well built and stocked, and beside the general items on it's many
shelves, the Indians sold an amazing variety of hand-made goods, many of
which were both delicate and intricate. There was also a very nicely
built little social hall across from the store and gas station, as well
as a larger building that served as a hostel complete with stables,
livery and granary.
       Dr. Quest took all this in and smiled. These were not violent
people as the lumber men claimed. They actually gave back more than they
took from the land. They were possessed of the best of both
environmental and family values, and they were both creative and
constructive. Their children ran to them, laughing. And they fished from
the little pier that they had built out into the pond.

       That, of course, made Benton frown. But it was what he'd come to
Kokadjo to look into, and he desired to begin, right away.

       Dr. Quest's education had been deep, including among many things
a fair medical background. He was thus qualified to draw blood samples
from the people of Kokadjo. These Benton would have flown to not less
than Boston for analysis by pathologists that he both knew and trusted.
Even the pilot of the state police helicopter that had brought the
Doctor, Rachel and Jordan to Kokadjo, as well as the pilot of the
Learjet that was waiting in Millinocket with an open flight plan, were
known and trusted.
       The screws (the actual physical evidence) were about to be run
down on the guilty, and absolutely no chances were being taken in the
effort to turn them down tightly so that they stayed in place— in legal
court, which was right where they belonged. Rachel herself had said it
in exactly that way. And who was going to argue points of law with a
woman who had passed the New York State and U.S. Federal bar exams?

       NOT I, Benton once again smiled for his golden-haired little
secret weapon.

       Rachel and Ramona walked up from having prepared the social hall
for the tests, and with them came John Hawkes. Mrs. Quest then asked
whom Benton preferred to begin with... children or adults. He replied
that he preferred to work in whatever order seemed best to John, but
that he intended to begin with someone who was not of Kokadjo. And with
the written concurrence of Alain and Michelle, it was Jordan who sat and
took the first pain as a result of his exposure to the muddy mercury at
Atlantic Coast's Chesuncook plant. Rachel followed, and then John and
Ramona themselves sat and gave samples. After them, whole families began
to arrive. The children were predictably afraid, though the adults
endured the experience with steely eyes. They understood why it was all
necessary. John himself had explained it to them, and every one of them
burned for the chance to prove the lumber mens' folly.
        After perhaps four hours, Benton was still taking samples and
Rachel was running the documentation, assigning numbers to the names of
the people and their sealed samples as per normal laboratory protocols.
They had seen about two-thirds of the people of Kokadjo, and along with
John and Ramona, they were discussing flying up to the town of
Chesuncook in order to draw blood samples from the people who lived
there. They had just finished working with a woman, and they were all
smiling as they walked outside and saw Jordan enjoying a rather rough
game of football with several children of his own age. It seemed to Dr.
Quest to be turning out to be quite a productive day. Unfortunately, it
was then that several vehicles arrived, scattering dust all over
everywhere and almost running over Jordan as he ran under a pass  from
one of the Penobscot boys. Gordon Eisily and other men from the Atlantic
Coast Paper Company emerged from two of the trucks, and from three squad
cars and a van unmistakable as a paddy wagon came the Piscatquis County
sheriff and a number of his deputies.
       It angered Dr. Quest to no end, not only because it shattered the
peace and almost hurt Jordan, but also because it was Eisily, and Benton
secretly loathed the man. "What's going on here?" he sharply asked as
Gordon approached him, and several of the deputies fanned out and began
to serve their arrest warrants.
       "There were more killin's in the forest last night."
       "Who?" Dr. Quest asked a bit more objectively.
       "That family from Bangor, the Garys. It happened up near Mary's
Bend. We're not waitin' for any more of it," Eisily replied.

       THE GARYS? ...AT MARY'S BEND? Benton wondered, noticing that the
shock of the story was also revealed on Jordan's face.

       "What makes you think these people had anything to do with it?"
Rachel asked.
       "Well, ma'am. Who might you be?"
       "My wife, Rachel," Benton quickly replied. He didn't want to let
on that she was a legal councilor.
       "Mrs. Quest," Eisily grimly replied. "These people are guilty as
hell."
       Dr. Quest cut his wife off one more time, though his question was
her own. "I assume that the warrants you're serving are based on
sufficient evidence, Mr. Eisily. I demand to see that evidence before
you remove anyone from this town."
       "The evidence is at the hospital in Millinocket... in BASKETS."
       Up at the top of the road, the sheriff took a report from one of
his deputies. He then produced a bullhorn. "I want the following Opies
to step forward: John Hawkes, Joshua Lighthorse..."
       None of the names that were called drew a response.
       "Mr. Hawkes?" the sheriff once again called.
       Eisily was standing right in front of John. "Well, Hawkes. Are
you gonna step forward as instructed?"
       John then seemed to look around, weighing his options at running.
Eisily saw it and motioned for one of his men to outright lead the
Penobscot man forward. As that man then laid his hand on Hawkes' arm,
John hit him squarely on the nose, sending him flying backwards behind a
nasal flow of blood. The Indian then turned and ran into the social
hall, where he jumped through a plate glass window in back as the
deputies and Eisily came in the front door after him.
       "Damnit!" the lumber man exclaimed. "Let him go, and we'll find
him later! Get these other Opies!"
       The deputies immediately set about that task, roughly cuffing
several men that they loaded into their van and drove off with.
       Rachel was unhappy about it. "You had better have hard evidence
against them, Mr. Eisily."
       "Just exactly who are you, Mrs. Quest?"
       Benton finally let her answer. "I am a United States attorney."
       The eyes of the Indians came alight at that, and both the state
police helicopter pilot and his observer had witnessed the entire
ordeal.
       Rachel spoke to the officers immediately. "I'll want detailed
statements from you both— just as soon as Mr. Eisily leaves, I might
add."
       That drew a frown from Gordon. "Just what kind of law to you
practice for the Federal Government?"
       "In these circumstances, I'm not under any obligation to tell
you."
       "Excuse me, madam." And Eisily and his men then left.
       Holding a frightened child, Ramona was looking with a grim visage
into the social hall and out through it's shattered back window.
       "Ramona?" Dr. Quest addressed her as Rachel led the two state
police aviators away.
       "Yes, Doctor?" she replied breathing sharply, her eyes still
fixed on the broken window.
       "Mary's Bend," Benton began. "Do you know where it is?"
       "Yes," Ramona answered, even then still looking into the hall.
       The Doctor moved up beside her. "We need to finish here, and then
I want to fly to Mary's Bend and take a look at the site. I need you to
run the medical paperwork for Rachel, and I need you to lead us all this
evening."
       "Yeah," Ramona nodded. "I understand, Dr. Quest."
       "Is there anyone here who can gather up everyone that we haven't
yet sampled?"
       "Yes. Yes, let me find her." And she handed Benton the frightened
little girl and began to look for the woman who's help was now needed.
       "Well, little one," Benton smiled. "You look as though you'd
rather be doing anything other than this."
       "They took my father."
       "We'll get him back for you. Where's your mother."
       The little girl's face fell. "I don't have a mother."
       Jordan spoke up, in French so that only Benton would understand
him. "That's the little girl who's mother died giving birth to her
brother, Dr. Quest. He also died."
       "Oui, Jordi," Benton quietly replied. MY GOD. THAT'S TWO MORE
LIVES LOST DUE TO THE POISONING OF THIS LAND.
       "Why would Mr. Gary lie, Doctor Quest?"
       "Jordi? I don't understand."
       "Mary's Bend. I saw it on the maps that you had me study, and
it's nowhere near where Mr. Gary told us he was going. He said that he
wanted to go west from Millinocket. Mary's Bend is on the Espy River
beneath Wadliegh Mountain."
       Benton's face fell. THAT'S DUE NORTH FROM MILLINOCKET, AND THUS
IT'S ON AN AXIS THAT'S NINETY DEGREES OFF OF WHERE ROBERT TOLD US THAT
HE WAS GOING.
       ...MY GOD! HE WOULD HAVE HAD TO HAVE PASSED VERY CLOSE TO OUR
CABIN ON JO-MARY LAKES! "I'll have to look into it, Jordi. I hope that
he merely changed his plans, that he wasn't actually trying to deceive
us. ...I see that your gift of memory for details once again serves you
well."
       "I wish that I had forgotten that one," Jordan replied, looking
away with an obviously heavy heart. It was hard on him to have to expose
what Robert had done. Hard, but necessary.
      Dr. Quest noticed it and applied an odd bit of psychology.  "How's
your arm?"
       It worked. Jordan smiled and worked his left elbow. "Fine. You
didn't hurt me at all."
       Benton also managed to smile. The boy had sat right down for his
blood test— fearlessly, but he DID draw a sharp breath when he felt the
stick. "Use the backpack radio. Call your mom and dad, and tell them
that we'll be flying up to Mary's Bend tonight. Tell them that we may
get trapped on the ground there by this evening's storms. Expect to have
to reach them by relays. There's a list of auxiliary frequencies for
this area on the radio's dust cover."
       "Yes, Dr. Quest."
       "Jordi?" Benton called as the boy turned to go.
       "Yes?"
       Make sure that you tell them that we are not armed, and that
you'll be staying here in Kokadjo. We'll have the state police send a
car here to pick you up."
       "Yes, Doctor." And Jordan then left.
       Dr. Quest again looked at the girl that he held, and he both
smiled and sighed. She hadn't yet been sampled, and so he was going to
have to hurt her. Just the thought of doing so made him want to break
down and cry. Benton was not hardened after the manner of a real medical
doctor, and sticking kids was way down near the bottom of the list of
things that he preferred not to do as a scientist in general. He would
have to wait for Ramona to return before he worked with this child. The
little girl seemed to be strong in the presence of the calm and gentle
Penobscot woman.
       Benton then thought about Mary's Bend. It was deeper into the
geography of Maine than even he had studied, and he did not know where
it was. He knew, however, that it would rain that night. He also knew
that heavy rain would ground the state police helicopter and trap
everyone in the area where he was certain that a monster had killed the
Gary family. To counter it if it attacked his group as they explored the
Bend, he had one anestha rifle and the state police officers' shotgun
and side arms. He thus had Jordan call Alain and Michelle, and he hoped
that Dr. Carpentier could arrange to support him.
       Mary's Bend had to be checked by someone who was not on the side
of the Atlantic Coast Company. Benton was not sure that the county
sheriff was objective, and so he decided to investigate with Rachel,
Ramona, and the helicopter crew, and before the site could be any
further compromised by anyone else.
       "Did you get through to your father?" Benton asked as Jordan
rejoined him.
       "Yes, Dr. Quest. He said that he'd come through a hurricane if
that's what it takes to make it to Mary's Bend to be with us."
       Benton broke out in a big smile at that. "Do you feel up to
sweeping up all of that broken glass in the social hall?"
       "Non problème."
       The doctor couldn't help but laugh. Here was his young friend's
arrogance again, though so sweetly displayed as to leave no room for
disciplinary action. He was so happy to be of help that he didn't care
if it was by doing the dirty work! "Aller s'il vous plaît!"
       "Oui, Docteur." And with a smile that bespoke a world of faith in
the man who stood before him, the boy then walked inside and set about
the task of cleaning up so that Benton could finish his work.



End Part V