“Better Left Forgotten”

Page 2

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The creature was about one centimeter long. Gregory Briggs had to admit that he’d never seen a nudibranch before. He watched them in amazement and disgust. It was a slug-like creature; its squirming body twisted and conformed amongst the seaweeds. Its translucent pearl skin looked gelatinous. Tiny growths sprouted off their bodies. The growths looked like tiny elm trees whose bark consisted of more gelatinous white skin and whose branches and leaves were speckled with something that looked like snow. Or dandruff, Gregory thought irritably. The creatures were repulsive. They squirmed and they oozed around, stretching and convulsing their thick gooey rhinophores and oral tentacles. It looked like someone made a too watery form of paper mache and it came alive. It was a saliva colored little slug monster. Gregory turned his attention away from the mesocosm with the nudibranchs inside.

“These seem to be healthy. Why are they separated from the others?” He asked.

“I suppose some labs put the nudibranchs all together, but we prefer them separate. Dr. Muse has them separated by species and by genus,” Michelle replied with a thoughtful look on her face. She stared at the little monsters and turned away silently moving to another mesocosm.

With an expressionless face and a monotone voice, Michelle introduced another mesocosm full of slime balls, “These are Dendronotus albus. They are not used for experiments, just for viewing and studying their habits. They came from California. Aren’t they fabulous? But nothing compares to the frondosus we just saw.”

Gregory Briggs flattened and pulled back the unbuttoned sides of his knee long white coat and peered into the giant tank. The tank stood from the ground to his waist and the sides were covered with a filmy alga. Inside was possibly the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. It was something from a dream, this nudibranch. It was a chubby little slug, but in a magnificent shade of violet. The tips of the cerata lining its back were bright yellow and orange. It seemed to just glub around and it put a smile to his face. This species was like the Pillsbury Doe Man. Gregory Briggs wanted to poke it and laugh aloud in spite of himself. He glanced up and looked at Michelle.

“This one, I like.”

She didn’t even seem to hear him. Her eyes were far away and her mind was obviously elsewhere. Maybe Kirsten Roget was mistaken but on the right trail. Perhaps this intern had killed him. She had a guilty look on her face. It was all Gregory could do to not clap his hands in anticipation. He wondered about Michelle. She was short and weak in appearance. She was probably anxious to become a scientist and so cleared a spot for herself. Her eyes suddenly focused and glinted innocence. Possibly feigned innocence. He wondered what made her tick. He grinned widely inside and decided to find out.

“Young lady, I have heard rumors of an opening in the lab since the death of Marc Roget. Seems NOAA is looking for someone to replace him, someone younger and more ambitious.”

Her face blanched, “Oh please, you have openly stated that Kit was going to take over Dr. Muse’s job. Sir, I find that a horrible idea.” Michelle stared at him, willing him to speak. She was obviously affected by her loyalty to Dr. Muse. Just how loyal is she? What has she been told to do, exactly? And by whom? Gregory Briggs realized that this girl was barely out of high school. She was too young to take on a murder this early in her career. So, if it was murder, like Kirsten had insisted it was, his instincts told him it would not have been Michelle. She was too green in deception. This would require experience and intellect. Dr. Muse seemed the most likely. Dr. Machiavelli indeed gave an exquisite first impression, but scientists didn’t kill their own partners no matter how solitary they were. Dr. Muse seemed a little jumpy.

“Why would Kit be a bad choice, she has done impressive work in the field,” Gregory Briggs asked faintly. His mind was racing around like a rabbit on drugs. The only thing missing from Dr. Muse’s persona was motive, but if Marc Roget’s death was indeed a murder Muse could have done it. Her sweet old lady attitude would be enough to fool anyone, but that woman still had spunk in her.

“I do not wish to change your opinion of her, but Dr. Machiavelli is an extremist. She’s always snapping and acting reclusive. She slips into the back lab alone for hours and I don’t have a clue what she does back there but it’s not work. One time, I even wondered-” Michelle cut herself off. Gregory swore under his breath. She was hiding something.

“Yes, what did you wonder?” Gregory asked, mustering all the patience that he could.

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just petty science stuff. It’s wrong for scientists to question the morale of their partners. It’s a trust relationship. Can’t work in a lab without one,” Michelle said with a large fake grin. Her eyes flicked around. Something was going on and Gregory Briggs did not like it. He could tell she was lying. She was juvenile both at the sciences and at deceiving her elders. It probably caused her trouble in high school, he thought to himself.

“You lie to me, Adler,” Briggs stated crossing his arms and stiffening his back. She gulped and reached compulsorily for her amber necklace. She fingered the stone and looked up at him.

“I would do no such thing,” She stuttered in response. Gregory Briggs stood there unwavering and accessed her with his eyes. She quivered under his stare, as most did and he wanted to laugh. But he didn’t. He locked his jaw and continued his hard gaze.

“Okay, okay,” She snapped in reluctance, “I did lie. But neither Dr. Muse nor Dr. Machiavelli would be impressed with me telling you. It’s just a mere observation from the point of view of a young twenty year old.”

“They will never know, but if there is a reason Dr. Machiavelli would not make a good head then now would be a good time to share it. I’m afraid the vote will be called shortly after this visit.” Gregory Briggs scratched his goatee thoughtfully and pretended to ignore Michelle by looking into the mesocosm again to see the wriggling white nudibranchs. After a few moments of looking at the large flat maggot like creatures, he begged in his mind for her to say something. Anything, to give him a reason to stop looking in the meso.

“Well, Ms. Roget, former scientist Marc Roget’s wife, accused Dr. Machiavelli of doing him in, if you know what I mean.” Gregory’s head immediately perked up.

“Murder? Dr. Machiavelli? That’s preposterous! What claims have you sought that has led you to this conclusion?” Briggs asked in a firm surprised voice. He loved that he had enough control that he could appear to be quite different from whom he was. It took a lot of effort and knowledge. Gregory Briggs was sure proud of it.

“Well, yes. I saw Kit the morning Dr. Roget went out on the R/V. She was in the wetsuit room hurrying around. She said that she was checking for tears but I had done that myself just the day before. She insisted that I could not be trusted and searched every wetsuit in the room and ordered me to leave her. Well, you know, Dr. Machiavelli,” Michelle hunched her shoulders, “So I left. Dr. Roget was a smart man. He loved his wife and was excited for every dive that he went on. He would not have pulled off his own mask. But that’s just me. I’m making unreasonable assumptions and doubting one the most brilliant scientists in the lab. Forgive me; Dr. Machiavelli is more credible than I proclaim her to be.”

“She was in the wetsuit room, checking for tears, you say? Before other dives has she requested the same removal of your party to do so?”

“No, she has not.”

Was there anything unusual about the schedule at the lab that day?”

“Well, Dr. Roget was to have a private meeting with Sylvia, I mean Dr. Muse straight after the dive. Kit was in a huff about that. I think that Dr. Muse was going to give Dr. Roget a promotion.”

“I see,” Gregory Briggs whispered. This was getting more interesting. Was murder a possibility? He was usually ignorant of the courts but he believed that they did their jobs to the full extent. They couldn’t have missed something like this unless it was irrelevant.

“Are you... interrogating me, Dr. Britannia?” Michelle asked, looking at him suspiciously.

“Dr. Muse was right about keeping that nonsense to yourself. Adler, thank you for sharing your concern, but I don’t believe any of it would prevent me from giving back a full report on Dr. Machiavelli and there is no evidence to falsify her. I would b glad to take my leave, now.” Gregory Briggs needed to get out of here. The young woman was getting too involved for her own good. If she found out who he really was, then he’d be in for it, he was sure.

“You can’t leave. You said that you wanted to see the R/V Coriacea. And meet with all personnel. That would include our captain and fellow scientist, Stephen Ward.”

Briggs gave his face a stern look, “No, I am going to leave now. I have the report I need.” He tapped the side of his head and inclined his head upwards in an arrogant way. But the intern was persistent.

“He’d be a better choice for head if you were to decide between him and Kit,” Michelle practically begged. She was desperate, truly, to not have Dr. Machiavelli in the top seat of the lab. Yet he could not deny her claims. Perhaps this boat captain would have more information on the possibility of murder at the lab. Michelle’s brown eyes grew larger, her mouth went down in a slight pout and her small face changed to a cute and desperate look.

“Verily, Adler. Bring me to Mr. Ward,” Briggs demanded in a tone suggesting that he had given up arguing with Michelle. She abruptly jumped and clapped her hands.

“Thank you! You’ll just love Stephen!” Michelle said, her voice unable to hold back her excitement.