"No."
"Have you ever heard stories of something like this?"
"No."
"Well, then, how do you explain it?"
"I don't explain it, Chaney. I'm just telling you what I think."
Chaney pursed his lips in thought. And Brick, having listened to the entire enigmatic conversation, lowered his gaze at nothing. His visage hadn't altered, but from the depth of his frown it was obvious that he deplored the sullen direction of his private thoughts.
Shaking his head, Chaney said, "Hunter, I know you haven't lied to me. You've told me what you think. But I don't think you've told me everything. And… that's smart; I can understand, after what you've been through, why you wouldn't trust anyone in a uniform. But the situation has become more serious than you know. I'm afraid… that I've got some bad news for you." He paused as Hunter froze. Then: "I'm afraid that one of your employees, Rebecca Tanus, has been murdered. They tried to kill Gina, too."
Hunter didn't move, but his mouth opened slightly and his eyes turned dark. Slowly he moved away from the table, approaching Chaney with a single step. It was an unthreatening action, and Chaney seemed to understand. He waited patiently until Hunter asked in a hushed, clear voice, "Who killed her?"
"They're dead," Chaney replied. "Brick and I did 'em in."
A moment, and Hunter nodded gratefully. "Good. And Gina?"
"In the hospital. And she's the one who led us here. She indicated you might be able to tell us the plain truth without all the wildlife bullshit."
"All right, Marshal, let me tell you exactly what you're looking for.
And no bullshit. But get ready for it, and if you don't believe me, I don't give a damn." Hunter was solid, his eyes unblinking. "You're looking for a genetic freak. Something that is half man and half monster. Something that can speak. Something that can move like lightning and has skin that is, for all practical purposes, bulletproof." Hunter watched the amazed reaction at that. "We hit that thing with enough ordnance to kill a hundred men, and it kept coming back stronger than it was before. No wounds, no nothing. The only way we've been able to hurt it is with knives."
"With knives!" Chaney exclaimed. "How in the hell could a knife injure it when a bullet wouldn't? And how did you get that close to it, anyway? From what you said, nobody would stand a chance against it with a knife."
From his glass cubicle, Professor Tipler responded. Weak and light at first, his voice grew in strength and tone as he continued. "It is quite possible, Marshal Chaney. It is only a simple matter of engineering stress."
Chaney gazed at the old man.
The professor added in a low drone, "This creature's epidermal molecular structure is, ah, probably similar to a rhinoceros which, incidentally, has the thickest and most densely designed epidermal surface on the planet." Gesturing as if it would assist him in framing the concept, he continued, "You see, a blunt object such as a bullet or shrapnel cannot penetrate its skin unless the leading point of impact is a cutting edge. This phenomenon does not necessarily reflect the thickness of the skin, however. Merely the composition."
Chaney moved closer. "Explain that to me, Professor."
With a nod, Tipler answered. His energy seemed to build with each sentence. "It is easy enough to understand, Marshal, if you think of it in terms of analogy." He drew a deeper breath. "First, we will remember that there are only two means of neutralizing the force of a bullet. Both methods, however, involve the same rule of physics, and that is to absorb, rather than resist, the force. In the first method, the bullet simply cannot make sufficient contact to actuate the intended trauma. The struck substance surrenders so completely that contact, if any, is so insignificant as to be nullified. Perhaps an example would enable you to visualize that type of situation." He paused, then: "Ah, yes. For instance, if one would suspend a silk handkerchief in the air by two corners and then fire a bullet at the hanging portion, the silk would surrender so completely and quickly, even matching the velocity of the bullet, that there would be almost no contact at all.
"This method, of course, is not an option for a target which, because of immutable physical laws, cannot surrender with such alacrity. Now, the second method involves a partial surrender, or absorption of the force of a bullet's impact. For, upon contact, the shock is dispersed or spread in a pattern over resilient, multi-flexed fibrous tissue that removes the bullet's force. Needless to say, this fibrous material would have to be exceedingly intractable, similar to substances utilized in the manufacture of ceramic-steel plating. An example would be… ah… oh, yes; let us imagine that you tossed a bulletproof vest in the air, and shot. Now, the vest would absorb far more of the impact than a scarf because its weight would negate complete surrender. But it would surrender nevertheless and the impact suffered would be dispersed across the fibers, as I've already mentioned, in shock waves. Not unlike ripples created when one tosses a stone into a calm pool. The surface absorbs the impact and sends the resulting trauma out in waves. Now, for the optimistic analysis. This creature, as you said, Nathaniel, is essentially exempt from injury from small-arms fire. However, if you possessed a weapon that could fire a projectile at far beyond supersonic speed — a speed that would not allow its fibrous molecular epidermis sufficient time to absorb and disperse the shock on impact — you would be able to overcome this spectacular defensive faculty. And, in fact, you have almost done this exact thing. Bobbi Jo's weapon—" He gestured toward her.
"The Barrett." She smiled.
"Yes, yes, the Barrett. That very large gun that she utilizes with such effectiveness does this. Although it has not yet devastated this animal's epidermis, it has obviously wounded it. What, may I ask, is the velocity of those bullets that you are using, Bobbi Jo?"
"They're three-hundred-grain bullets loaded with 1110 Hodgdon powder. The ones we chronographed before the mission began were ranged at 4,372 feet per second. It was a hot load but I've boosted the power with some CFI for more explosive detonation. I'd say they're pushing five thousand feet per second because I also dropped to a 195-grain Teflon-tipped bullet. A smaller bullet allows higher velocity as long as it's not so small that it's affected by windage." She paused, shook her head. "I'm probably pushing the gun to the limit right now."
"Yes, yes." Tipler nodded. "Exactly my point. Certainly, if one calculates the velocity, size and form of the other bullets fired at the creature against the damage resulting from Bobbi Jo's vastly more powerful weapon, you can acknowledge that the creature does have a threshold of tolerance. Subsonic ammunition probably has no effect whatsoever, but when a projectile's speed is faster than the faculty of the epidermis to disperse the force, then it can be injured by weapons. Unfortunately, I fear, a majority of those weapons that protect the complex are useless against it."
Chaney spoke in a thoughtful voice. "That would seem apparent, Professor. But even if the shock of a bullet was… was dispersed, as you said, this creature would still suffer a blunt trauma, wouldn't it? Something like bruising?"
"In a sense, yes," Tipler answered, eyes closing suddenly to a sting of deep pain. "But if the creature possessed an enhanced healing factor, then any resulting blunt trauma would be quickly erased. So the only advantage we would gain would be through its pain, and the consequential distraction, both physical and mental. For even a short-term and superficial wound would reroute its chemical reserves into the laborious act of healing, thereby subtracting these same substances from its superior strength and endurance. Quite probably, the lack would consequently weaken and slow it, which would be another advantage.