`You're sure this thing is safe?' Bridgewater looked again at the rickety metal cage sitting on the edge of the deck of this fishing trawler-cum-film-studio. `You remember what happened the last time I was in one of these..' `Tony...' The director grasped Bridgewater's shoulder through the chain mail wetsuit and looked up into his aging eyes. `That was just a movie. This is for real. We don't have accidents like that in real life.' The smaller man slapped his old friend on the back and laughed. `Besides, the sharks aren't usually that agressive.' `Usually.' The actor turned the word over and over again in his mind while he tried to summon up the courage to go on. Late spring or no, it still felt awkward to be preparing to jump into the ocean this late in November. Then again, he reminded himself, it was always this warm in the southern tropics this time of year. Because of his prior film roles, Bridgewater's name was often linked with projects such as this one. While he was more than happy to take on the job in the hope that it might jump-start his ailing career, he had to admit to some fear of typecasting. Still, he rather hoped the PR would do him some good in light of the the audition his agent had lined up for him in January. A very wealthy Hollywood film producer wanted him to take the lead role in a new television series he was developing, something about commanding a high-tech submarine or some such. Flying all the way down here and sailing out to confronting old fears and swim face to face with some of the very undersea creatures he might expect to encounter in such a role, Tony prayed that it would be the added bonus to convince them he was right for the role. He could really use another hit at this point and at least he was being well paid to host this little documentary. Bridgewater took a deep breath and tried to convince himself once more that he'd made the right decision in coming down here. `Okay,' he finally said while trying to work the last remaining knots out of his stomach. `Let's get this show on the road.' `That's my boy.' The director motioned to a pair of divers and some other hired hands goofing off around the deck. `All right, everyone. We've got work to do. You know the drill.' Within minutes, Tony Bridgewater found himself hooked up to his air tanks and lowered into the ocean along with the shark cage. He had heard how beautiful and alive the water near the Great Barrier Reef could be, but the words had not adequately prepared him for the wonders that began to unfold before him. Schools of brightly colored fish soared past, some just inches from him as they flitted through the bars of the cage, providing him with an up-close view. Up above him, sunlight flickered down through the crystal clear water. Below his feet, Tony watched an entire menagerie of sea creatures moving about in the murkier depths. It was unlike anything he had ever seen before. His silent reverie was broken by a chirp of static in his ear. Through a waterproofed earpiece carefully protected under the hood of his diving suit, a young man's voice eventually emerged. `Mr. Bridgewater, if you can hear me, would you please signal camera #2 with a thumbs up?' Tony smiled inwardly at the young production assistant's enthusiasm. He wished he were that young again, that optomistic about life and all it had to offer. If he kept it up, young Troy was going to go places in this business...or burn out trying. Bridgewater turned slowly in place until he found a small remote controlled underwater camera hovering off to his right -- the starboard side, he corrected himself. He gave the camera and Troy an enthusiastic thumbs-up and somewhere deep inside tried to feel half as excited about the danger he was putting himself in. `All right, Mr. Bridgewater. We're going to release the bait now. You just sit tight.'
Meat. Red meat. As the smell of the new creature permeated the depths, it took control of her senses, inspiring a powerful, uncontrollable and satisfying response from her olfactory sensors. She grew tired of the constant diet of seafood and yearned to taste the meat of this land animal. It had been far too long since she last tasted such flesh. She turned her tail and her body with it, pushing herself onto a new course. She parted the water with her fins and increased her velocity, ascending from the murky depths to the psychedelic light show the sun provided near the surface. As her dorsal fin broke through the water's surface tension to touch dry air, she began to feel the rhythmic thumping of the nearby ship. Humans! What a tasty meal they would make. No! I must not think that way, a voice buried deep inside the shark's head cried. I am more than shark. I am... I am... What am I? She ached to remember days when she had walked on land, a creature of power and nobility. Too many years, too many lifetimes, sometimes as mammal, sometimes as fish, sometimes as even lower life forms. How she longed to kill as she once had, but at least she had survived all this time. Who am I? She had inhabited the body of a porpoise, a seahorse and a crab. She led a score of short lives as anemonae and spent a dozen happy lives as halibut. She took the form of the manta and the man o'war...and a long time before that, of man. I remember. The ocean around her began to bubble and emit a frothy vapor as she excited each molecule and heated it to a boil with sheer concentration. Schools of fish scattered in all directions, while the less lucky individuals boiled alive in her wake. She circled and dove towards her prey, noting how flimsy the metal cage looked even from this distance. How could it stop me? I am not simply king of sharks, but master of temperature! Master. The thought induced an inward chuckle from the great white as she circled the cage for her final approach. I am master now.. ..or, at least, shall be soon. She yearned to rip the life from another being again. So many deaths she could cause, but so many more once released from this watery sentence! It was time. She centered on the cage and propelled herself forward, grasping the steel bars in her mighty jaws as she struck. She could hear the human's screams, even through his peculiar breathing apparatus. Closer...closer... She clenched the bars tightly in her teeth and felt it began to collapse around her prey. She tasted blood in her mouth -- not the human's, but her own. More! She bit down harder, forcing her jaws to exceed their own simple limits and break through the prison. But the pain... Oooh, the pain. No! She felt the cage begin to tug upward toward the ocean's surface. She clamped her jaws down tighter and held on for dear life. I must not fail! She felt she could no longer bear the torture but pressed on. The man struck out at her snout, humouring her for a moment. What a pathetic gesture. I shall rend him limb from limb to teach him of his futility-- No! I am not shark! I need him! Now is the time! As the actor's next blow landed, the life of the great white shark expired in one massive breath. As the cage yanked free of the water, her massive bulk fell backward into the water, crashing down hard and splashing water all over the deck of the ship. As her body began to sink into the depths, her torn and mangled mouth left behind a bloody trail to attract her brethren. Meanwhile, thunder crashed in the distance and a wind began to howl...
`Get him out of there! Get him out of there!!' The director pushed past the deck hands as the remains of the cage fell rather unceremoniously onto the open deck. The divers ripped clear their gear and helped the little man haul Bridgewater out of the tangled metal. Thunder boomed closer to the ship. Dark, grey storm clouds enshrouded the tiny sailing vessel as the wind roared in the crew's ears. `I've never seen a storm come up so fast!' the ship's captain shouted, barely audible above the roar of moving air. `There was a clear sky just a moment ago.' The director ignored him, focusing his concern on the man at his feet. `Is he breathing?' `He's okay,' one of the divers reported, lifting his ear from Bridgewater's chest. `The shark didn't get to him.' Oh, but it did. The director knelt down next to his star player and nudged him gently. `Tony? Tony, are you all right?' After a moment's pause, Bridgewater's eyes blinked open, searched about wildly, then focused straight on the director's. When the thespian finally spoke, his voice carried an otherworldly quality tempered by an almost frantic excitement, pushing to get the words out. `I feel wonderful!' Lightning struck the water not far from the boat, ripping the shark's body in half and sinking the charred remains even further into the depths. `What the hell is happening?' one of the deck hands cried. Bridgewater sat upright and smiled broadly at him. `Hell? Nothing so primitive, I can assure you!' He raised his arms above his head, stretched and yawned. As he opened and then reclenched one fist, a thunderbolt leapt from the sky and tore the director apart in a shocking display of electrical fireworks. Achmael/Bridgewater stood, awkwardly, and faced the crew. As he had entered the actor's mind and body moments ago, Achmael caught quick glimpes from the actor's life memories as his mind was displaced. In that split- second, Achmael witnessed a more populous and violent world than any he could remember. He savoured those memories now, desiring to explore and exploit those wondrous locations in order to satiate his unfulfilled murderous urges. Achmael smiled through the actor's perfect mouth and searched those fleeting memories again as rain began to crash down all around him. `I want to see more of this world. I want to witness all the death and destruction up close, but where should I begin?' Most of the humans had given up listening and were occupied in trying to regain control of their ship against the contentious storm. The others stood by in fear and sadness, wondering what had happened to the charming man that had climbed into the water only a few minutes before. Achmael roared in anger and called down lightning bolts upon each of them, tasting each death in turn and only craving more. `A good start, but I must be patient. I have so much...time to kill.' Achmael laughed aloud and called up winds from a new cardinal direction, turning the waves and the tiny ship onto a new course. It was a dark and stormy night when the Storm Demon was unleashed once more upon the Earth...and this time the Doctor could not stand in his way.
Copyright © 1994 Michael "The Admiral" Zecca