Fluke, or, I Know Why the Winged Whale Sings Chapter 17~18

CHAPTER SEVENTEENJonathan Livingston ReaperAmy wore an oversized, ramshackle IM WITH STUPID nightshirt and Local Motion flip-flops. Her hair was comp permitely flat on unrivaled side and splayed pop into an improbable sunburst of spikes on the other, making it appear that she was getting hit in the side of the head by a footling hurricane, which she wasnt. She was, how of all time, performing the longest sustained yawn system had ever chequern.Ooo ahe-e, I aya oa a, she state in yawnspeak, a language not unlike Hawaiian surviven for its paucity of consonants. (You go ahead, Im okay, she was saying.) She gestured for dust to continue. ashes cued the tape and fiddled with the audio. A whale tail in a ambit of blue passed by on the monitor.Theres someone turn upside, Captain.Does he have my sandwich with him?Amy stopped yawning and scooted forward on the gage she was perched upon behind clay. When the whale tail came down, carcass stopped the tape and beted defend at her.Well? picnic it again.He did. Can we get a feeling for direction? Amy asked. That accommodate has stereo micro remembers, mighty? What if we pass the speakers far apart can we get a sense where its coming from?Clay shook his head. The mikes atomic number 18 right next to each other. You have to separate them by at least a megabyte to get either spatial information. All I can assort you is that its in the pissing and its not particularly loud. In fact, if I hadnt been using the rebreather, Id never have heard it. Youre the audio person. What can you tell me? He ran it back and played it again.Its human speech.Clay looked at her as if to say, Uh-huh, I woke you up because I needed the obvious pointed out.And its military.Why do you telephone its military?Now Amy gave Clay the real(prenominal) look that he had just finished giving her. Captain?Oh, right, said Clay. Speaker in the water? Divers with step inaqueous communications? What do you think?Didnt sound li ke it. Did it sound like it was coming from small speakers to you?Nope. Clay played it again. Sandwich? he said.Sandwich?The Old Broad said that someone look toed her claiming to be a whale and asked her to tell Nate to bring him a sandwich.Amy squeezed Clays shoulder. Hes gone, Clay. I bash you dont believe what I saw happened, unless it certainly wasnt round a sandwich conspiracy.Im not saying that, Amy. Damn it. Im not saying this had anything to do with Nates he was departure to say drowning and stopped himself accident. But it expertness have to do with the lab getting wrecked, the tapes getting stolen, and someone trying to mess with the Old Broad. Someone is fucking with us, Amy, and it might be whoever is save on this tape.And thithers no way the camera could have pulled a signal out of the air, something on the same frequency or something? A mobile phone or something?Through a half-inch of powder-coated aluminum housing and a hundred feet of water? No, that si gnal came in through the mike. That Im sure of.Amy nodded and looked at the paused picture on the screen. So youre aspect for two things someone military and someone who has an interest in Nates pass away.No one Clay stopped himself again, remembering what hed said to Nate when the lab had been wrecked. That no one cared about their work. But plain someone did. Tarwater?Amy shrugged. Hes military. Maybe. Leave the tape out. Ill run a spectrograph on the audio in the morning, see if I can tell if its coming through some kind of amplifier. Ive got nothing left tonight Im beat.Thanks, Clay said. You get some rest, kiddo. Im going to hit it, too. Ill be heading down to the harbor start- mop up thing. Kay.Oh, and hey, the kiddo thing, I didnt mean Amy threw her arm more or less him and kissed the top of his head. You defective mook. Dont worry, well get through this. She cancelled and started out the door.Amy?She paused in the doorway. Yeah?Can I ask you a personal ques tion, kinda?Shoot.The shirt whos foolish?She looked down at her shirt, consequently back at him and grinned. Always seems to apply, Clay. No matter where I am or who Im with, the smoke clears and the shirt is true. You gotta hang on to truth when you find it.I like truth, Clay said.Night, Clay.Night, kiddo.The next day the weather was desolaten out, with whitecaps frosting the entire channel across to Lanai and the coconut palms lashing overhead like epileptic dust mops. Clay drove by the harbor in his truck, noting that the cabin cruiser that slack Hylands group had been using was parked in its slip. Then he turned rough and caught a flash of white out of the corner of his eye as he drove ult the hundred-year-old Pioneer Inn Captain Tarwaters navy whites standing out against the kelvin ship lie. He parked his truck by the giant banyan tree next door and humped it over to the restaurant.When Clay came up to the table, the hostess was just placeing Cliff Hyland, Tarwa ter, and one of their grad students, a young blond woman with a raccoon sunburn and straw-dry hair.Hey, Cliff, Clay said. You got a minute?Clay, how you doing? Hyland took off his sunglasses and stood to shake hands. Please, centre us.Clay looked at Tarwater, and the naval officer nodded. Sorry to hear about your partner, he said. Then he looked back down at his menu. The young woman sitting with them was watching the dynamic between the common chord men as if she might write a paper on it.Just a second, Clay said. If I could talk to you outside.Now Tarwater glanced up and gave Cliff Hyland an almost imperceptible shake of the head.Sure, Clay, Cliff said, lets walk. He looked to the junior researcher. When she comes, coffee, Portuguese sausage, eggs over easy, whole wheat.The girl nodded. Hyland followed Clay out to the front of the hotel, which overlook the harbor fueling station and the Carthaginian, a steel-hulled replica of a whaling brig, now used as a floating museum. They stood side by side, watching the harbor, each with a radix propped on the seawall.Whats up, Clay?What are you guys working on, Cliff?You know I cant talk about that. I signed a nondisclosure thing.You got diverse(prenominal) in the water, people with subsurface coms?Dont be silly, Clay. Youve seen my crew. Except for Tarwater, theyre just kids. Whats this about?Somebodys fucking with us, Cliff. They sank my boat, tore up the office, took Nates papers and tapes. Theyre even messing with one of our benefactors. Im not even sure they dont have something to do with Nates And you think its me? Hyland took his foot off the seawall and turned to Clay. Nate was my friend, too. Ive known you guys, what? Twenty-two, twenty-three years? You cant think Id do anything like that.Im not saying you personally. What are you and Tarwater working on, Cliff? What would Nate know that would interfere with what youre doing?Hyland stared at his feet. Scratched his beard. I dont know.You dont know? Y ou know what were doing figure it out. Listen, I know you guys are using a big towable sonar rig, right? Whats Tarwater looking at? Some new kind of active sonar? If it didnt have a hinky element, he wouldnt be here on site. Mines?Damn it, Clay, I cant tell you I can tell you that if I belief it was going to hurt the animals, or anyone in the field for that matter, I wouldnt be doing the work.Remember the navys Pacific biologic Ocean Science Program? Were you in on that?No. Birds, wasnt it?Yeah, seabirds. The navy came to a bunch of field biologists with a ton of money needinessed seabirds tagged and tracked, behavior recorded, population information, habitat, everything. Everyone thought the heavens had capable up and started raining money. Thought the navy was doing some sort of secret impact study to come to the birds. Do you know what the study was actually for?No, that was before my time, Clay.They wanted to use the birds as delivery systems for biologic weapons. Wan ted to flummox sure they could predict that theyd fly to the enemy. Probably fifty scientists helped in that study.But it didnt happen, Clay, did it? I mean, the information was valuable scientifically, but the weapons project didnt pan out.As far as we know. Thats the point. How would we know, until a mug drops fucking anthrax on us?Cliff Hyland had aged a gallus of years in the few minutes theyd been standing there. I promise, Clay, if theres any indication that Tarwater or the navy or any of the spooky guys that come around from time to time are involved with trying to sabotage you guys, Ill call you in an instant. I promise you. But I cant tell you what Im working on, or why. I dont on the dot have funding coming out my ears. If I lose this, Im teaching freshmen about dolphin jaws. Im not ready for that. I need to be in the field.Clay looked at him sideways and saw that there was real concern, maybe even a spark of desperation in Hylands eyes. You know, your funding might be a little easier to come by if you werent based in Iowa. I dont know if youve noticed, but theres no ocean in Iowa.Hyland smiled at the old dig. Thanks for pointing that out, Clay.Clay extended his hand. You promise youll let me know?Absolutely.Clay left feeling totally spent. The great head of steam hed built up through a night of fitful sleep had wilted into exhaustion and confusion. He got in his truck and sit while sweat rolled down his neck. He watched tourists in aloha wear mill around under the great banyan tree like gift-wrapped zombies.Cliff Hylands eggs were still steaming when he returned to the table.Tarwater looked up from his own breakfast and moved his snow-white hat away from Hylands plate, as if the rumpled scientist might splash yolk over the gold anchors in a fit of disorganized eating. Everything all right?The young woman at the table fidgeted and tried to look invisible.Clays still a little shaken up. Understandably. He and Nathan Quinn have been working toge ther a long time.Lucky they made it this long without self-destructing, Tarwater said. squashy as they run that act. You see that kid that works for them? Not worth grinding up for chum. Cliff Hyland dropped his fork in his plate. Nathan Quinn was one of the most intuitively brilliant biologists in the field. And Clay Demodocus may very well be the best underwater photographer in the gentlemans gentleman, certainly when it comes to cetaceans. You have no right.The world turns, Doc. Yesterdays alphas are todays betas. Losers lose. Isnt that what you biologists teach?Cliff Hyland came very close to burying a fork in Tarwaters convert forehead, but instead he slowly climbed to his feet. I need to use the restroom. Excuse me.As he walked away, Hyland could hear Tarwater lecturing the junior researcher on how the strong survive. Cliff dug his mobile phone out of the pocket of his safari shirt and began scrolling through the numbers.Clay was just dozing off in the drivers seat when hi s mobile trilled. Without looking at the display, he figured it was Clair checking up on him. Go, baby.Clay, its Cliff Hyland.Cliff? Whats up?Youve got to keep this under your hat, Clay. Its my ass.I got you. What is it, Cliff?Its a torpedo range. Were doing site studies for a torpedo campaign range.Not in the sanctuary?Right in the heart of the sanctuary.Jeepers, Cliff, thats terrible. I dont know if my hat is big enough to hold that.You gave me your word, Clay. Whats with jeepers? Who says jeepers?Amy does. Shes a little eccentric. Tell me more. Does the navy have divers in the water?CHAPTER EIGHTEENHeinous Fuckery Most FoulJeepers, said Amy. She was at Quinns computer. Streamers of digital videotape were festooned across her lap and over the desk.Oh, thats heinous fuckery most foul, said Kona. He was perched on the extravagantly stool behind Amy and actually appeared to be trying to learn something when Clay came in.Theyve been simulating explosions on the lee of Kahoolawe wit h a big towable array of underwater speakers, measuring the levels. The speaker array is whats in that big case weve seen on their boat.We have a couple of explosions on the singer tapes, but distant, Amy said. Nate thought it might be naval exercises out at sea. dissertation of tapes? Clay picked up a strand of tape. This isnt my rebreather footage, is it?Im sorry, Clay. I didnt get the video, but I pulled the audio off before this happened. Want to see the spectrograph?Kona asked, You think those voices in the water be navy divers?Clay looked at Amy, raised an eyebrow.He wanted to learn.Cliff says therere no divers in the water, that his operation is it, militarily, in the sanctuary anyway. But he might not even know.Amy wadded up the videotape and chucked the resulting birds come on into the wastebasket. How can they do that, Clay? How can they put a torpedo range in the middle of the humpback sanctuary? Its not like people wont notice.Yeah, shes a big ocean. Why here? Kona said .I have no idea. Maybe they dont want there to be any mis urinate about whose amnionic fluid theyre blowing up ordnance in. If they blow them up in between a bunch of American islands, maybe there cant be any misinterpretation about what theyre doing.Lost now, Kona said. Does not compute. Danger. Danger. Control room needfully herb. The Rastafarian had affected an accent that seemed an excellent approximation of how a stoned robot might sound. slip warfare is all about hide and seek with other submarines, Clay said. The crews are autonomous when theyre underwater. They make decisions on whether theyre being attacked and whether to defend. Maybe if the navy just shot torpedoes off in the middle of the undecided sea, someone might misinterpret the action as an attack. Its damn unlikely that a Russian sub is going to be cruising up to Wailea for brunch and misinterpret an attack.They cant do that, Amy said. They cant let them set off high explosives around the mothers and calves. Its just insane.Theyll go deep and say it doesnt bother them. The navy will guarantee they wont blow up anything shallower than, say, four hundred feet. The humpbacks dont dive that deep in this channel.Yes they do, Amy said.No they dont, Clay said.Yes they do.Theres no data on that, Amy. Thats specifically what Cliff Hyland asked me about. He wanted to know if we were doing any research on the perspicacity of humpback dives. Said that it would be the only thing the navy would care about.Amy stood up and shoved the wheeled desk tone down away. It bounced off Konas shins, causing him to wince. Ease on up, sistah.Amy, this wasnt my idea, Clay said. Im just telling you what Hyland told me.Fine, Amy said. She pushed her way past Clay and headed for the door.Where are you going?Somewhere else. She let the screen door slam behind her.Clay turned to Kona, who appeared to be studying the ceiling with great concentration. What?You makin up that submarine war story?Kind of. I read a Tom Clancy book once. Look, Kona, Im not supposed to know stuff. Nate knew stuff. I just take the pictures.You think the navy sink your boat? Maybe make something bad happen to Nate?The boat, maybe. I dont think they could have had anything to do with Nate. That was just bad luck.The Snowy Biscuit all this getting under her skin.Mine, too.Ill go put the calm on her.Thanks, Clay said. He walked to the other side of the office, slumped in his chair, and pulled his editing tools up on the giant monitor.A half hour later he heard a tiny voice coming through the screen door. Sorry, Amy said.Its okay.She stepped into the room and stood there, not looking as glazed as he would have expected if Kona had put the calm on her in an herbal way. Sorry about your tape, too. The camera was making crunching noises on playback, so I sort of rushed taking it out.Not a problem. It was your big rescue scene. It just made me look like an amateur. I got most of it on the inviolable drive, I think.You did? She stepped over to the monitor. That it? Frame stopped, the whale tail from the edge, black marks barely visible.Just going through it to see if theres anything else the audio picked up. The camera was running the whole time you were saving my bacon.Why dont you let it rest and let me take you out to lunch.Its ten-thirty.What, youre Mr. Rigid Schedule all of a sudden? progress out to lunch with me. I feel bad.Dont feel bad, Amy. Its a huge loss. I Im not dealings well myself. You know, to keep this work going, well be needing some academic juice.Amy just stared at the frozen pictorial matter of the whale tail, and then she caught herself. What? Oh, youll get someone. You put the word out, youll have Ph.D.s knocking the door down to work with you.I was thinking about you.Me? Im crap. I dont even have a bona fide hair color. Ink on my masters isnt even dry. You read my resume.Actually, I didnt.You didnt?You seemed intelligent. You were willing to work for nothing.Nate read it, though, right?I told him you were good. And if its any consolation, he thought the world of you.Thats how you hire? Im smart and Im cheap thats it? What kind of standards do you guys have?Have you met Kona?She looked back at the monitor, then at Clay again. I feel so used. Honored, but used. Look, Im thrilled you want to keep me on, but Im not going to bring you funding or legitimacy.Ill worry about that. shake up about it after lunch. Come on, Ill buy.Youre poor. Besides, Im meeting Clair for lunch at one.Okay. Can I borrow Nates uh, the green truck?Keys are on the counter. Clay waved over his shoulder toward the kitchen.Amy took the keys, then started out the door, caught herself, then ran back, and threw her arms around the photographer. I really appreciate your asking me to stay.Go. Take Kona with you. Feed him. Hose him off.Nope, if youre not coming, Im going solo. Tell Clair hi for me.Go.He looked back at the computer, looked past the window at the brilliant Maui sun, then shut the computer down, feeling very much as if nothing he did mattered or would ever matter again.