Bridge Across the Stars: A Sci-Fi Bridge Original Anthology

by Rhett C. Bruno

  The dolphins flocked to him and, for a split second, he was terrified. But as soon as they touched him, buoying him up toward the surface, he knew they would do him no harm.

  His head broke the surface, and he shook strands of wet hair out of his eyes. Song stood above him on the deck, holding a long-handled cleaning net. Her eyes grew wide when she saw his escort—dolphins under each arm, a third beneath him pushing him upward—but she thrust the net at him and he grasped it with both hands. She threw her whole weight into the pull and, with a shove from the dolphins, Omar all but catapulted onto the edge of the deck. Song grabbed his belt and helped him the rest of the way.

  She knelt beside him, her eyes bright with concern. “Are you all right? What were you trying to do?”

  “I was trying to—to communicate with them,” he stammered. “When I touched Wiyu—I mean, the Alph—”

  “Wiyu,” said Song, firmly.

  “When I touched her before, I felt how much they wanted to go home. I saw their home. They think they’ll die here.”

  “But we would never harm them—” She cut off. “They have no way to know that with certainty.”

  Omar looked down into the habitat. Wiyu and the alpha male—Omar decided his name was Owu—were still bobbing at the surface, watching the two humans. “But it’s not just that. It’s like … they’re afraid of being cut off from their families and friends. Like …” He thought back to the tide of impressions that had raged through him at the animals’ touch. “For us, it would be as if there were suddenly no airplanes, no ships, no way to get home.”

  “That’s what you felt. That’s why you came here.” Those weren’t questions.

  “Why did you?” he asked.

  She moved closer to him, until their noses were almost touching. “I felt … sadness. Loneliness.”

  Omar swallowed. “Are we crazy?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Omar got to his feet. “Then we need to convince the Lerners to let them go.”

  * * *

  “I don’t feel anything like that,” said Cecily. She sat across from Omar and Song in the office she shared with her husband. “I mean, yes, I pick up on their fear, but any intelligent creature responds to the unknown with trepidation. We’re the unknown, Omar. They’ll acclimate.”

  “No, Professor,” said Omar. “I don’t think they will. This isn’t just fear of the unknown. For some reason, they’re certain that if they stay here much longer, they won’t get home. They left people behind and—”

  “Do you hear yourself?” asked Win. He was half-sitting in a window embrasure behind his wife’s desk. “They left people behind. You’ve come to identify too much with these animals, Omar. Be honest, are you thinking of the people you left behind? Gibraltar can seem pretty remote…”

  Omar flushed and glanced at Song. “I admit, I dreamed about leaving my family behind—but I realized that wasn’t the same thing, because I can always catch a plane to San Francisco. It wasn’t my home I was dreaming about, it was theirs. And when I touched them, it was really clear what they felt. I can’t explain it. I just know that it is. Song feels it too, don’t you?”

  She nodded. “Not as much as Omar does. But I, too, woke and felt compelled to help them.”

  Win spread his hands in a gesture of frustration. “I don’t know what I can do. I can’t just let them go—”

  “Why not?” Omar challenged him. “We have MRIs, sonograms, DNA, video. Why not let them go back to their canyon? We could even visit them there, or anywhere else they go. They’ve got tracking devices, after all.”

  The Lerners traded glances, then Cecily said, “I’m sorry, but we just can’t let such scientifically valuable specimens out of our hands until we’ve studied them thoroughly. Look, you two must be exhausted. Why don’t you take the day off? Do something relaxing.”

  * * *

  After a morning spent fretting over the dolphins, Omar and Song finally took Cecily’s advice and ended up at a gelato stand on the wharf. They sat in the sun at one of the small, wrought-iron tables littered about, and ate chocolate gelato so dark it was almost black. They spoke little, at first, preferring to salve their bruised consciences with sugar.

  Then Song sighed and said, “Is that it, then, Omar? Is there nothing else we can do?”

  “Nothing that won’t get us fired and maybe even arrested. And it’s on me, Song. I’m the one who started this.”

  “That’s silly,” she said. “They started it—the dolphins—by reaching out to you. You’re only responding to their cries for help. I’ve only just started feeling them, myself. Which makes me wonder why no one else feels them.”

  “I’m not sure. I’ve been thinking about it. Maybe it’s an age thing. We’re the youngest people on staff.”

  “What about Felix? He can’t be more than a few years older than we are.”

  Omar snorted. “Felix is a jerk. He’s too into himself to notice somebody else’s discomfort.”

  “You don’t like Felix,” she observed.

  “Do you?”

  She gazed down into her gelato. “He makes me want to punch him.”

  “Well, that doesn’t mean you don’t, y’know, like him. You can be attracted to people you don’t like.”

  “I can’t.” She looked up and speared him with her dark, shining gaze. “I am only attracted to people I like.” As if to underscore her words, she reached out and lightly touched the back of Omar’s hand.

  He felt a ripple of heat run from his head all the way down to his extremities. Song smiled impishly, as if she knew exactly what he was feeling. He let his spirits be lifted by her gesture all the way back to ICI. But the moment he stepped through the institute’s doors he was immersed in the dolphins’ anguish.

  It was time to plot a more permanent escape for them.

  * * *

  By mid-morning the next day, the dolphins’ distress was so palpable, Omar found it difficult to believe that only he and Song could sense it. He arrived at the observation room early, surprising the intern, Shelley, who was nearing the end of her shift. He gave her his most winsome smile and offered to relieve her. She gratefully disappeared, which gave Omar the opportunity to sit down at one of the computers and pull up the schematics for the habitat systems.

  If the dolphins were going to make a break for it, he realized, it would have to be through the seagate that connected their tank to the old submarine pen. The seagate was old and had two modes of opening and closing. It could be triggered to open by a motor controlled from a panel that was physically in the pen, or operated manually via the archaic latch mechanism itself, either from within the pen or the habitat.

  The gate’s motor was noisy as hell. Getting into the tank unnoticed was unlikely, which left manually opening the seagate from inside the old sub pen.

  Omar’s plotting was interrupted by a brouhaha on one of the decks. He closed the schematics and scanned the displays dedicated to the surfaces of the habitat tanks. There was a blur of motion in a frame to the upper right—Solitary. Omar zoomed in on it to find Nate chasing the industrial cart he used to deliver food to the habitats. It careened across the cement deck toward the big tank that held Lerner’s Dolphins. Before Nate could catch it, it plunged into the water.

  Adrenaline pumping, Omar leapt to his feet and charged out of the observation center, across the gallery, and up to the isolation area. Several other staffers—two interns and the junior marine veterinarian—had arrived to help with retrieval. The pieces of fish floating to the water’s surface were easy scoop up with nets, but the cart itself had plunged to the bottom of the habitat.

  “We’ll have to dive for the rest of it,” said Nate. “D’you think it’s safe?”

  “Yeah, sure,” Omar said, already thinking of ways he could use the retrieval as a means of furthering the dolphin’s Great Escape. “We can use a crane to hoist the cart out.” He pointed overhead to one of the cranes they used to remove animals from the habitat that
needed to be relocated or taken in for examination. “In fact, why don’t I go into the tank, while you position the crane and send down a cable. I’ll attach it to the cart, then signal you when it’s ready to haul up.”

  Nate seemed relieved. He wasn’t as good a diver as Omar, and swimming with anything the size of dolphins would spook any amateur.

  Omar got suited up in his scuba gear, then lowered himself down into the tank, guiding a cable from the overhead crane. The dolphins were at the bottom of the tank near the seagate. So was the cart, which was odd because there was no way it could have floated there. Long scrapes in the sandy bottom of the tank hinted that the dolphins had pushed it. Why?

  They eyed him apathetically as he approached, then swam away as if bored with the cart. Wiyu, however, wandered quite close to him, giving him a look he would’ve taken as a grin in a human being. He swam the remainder of the way to the food cart and was surprised to find that it was missing some parts. Specifically, the rear axle and both wheels.

  Omar looked around for the missing parts, but the rock and sand around the cart were clear of debris. He had the eerie sensation that the dolphins had removed the axle for reasons of their own. He couldn’t begin to imagine how or why.

  “Omar, you okay?” Nate’s voice came across his comm.

  “Yeah, fine. I’m just looking for the best way to do this.”

  He fastened the cable around the cart’s push bar and told Nate to take it up. Then he swam over to the seagate to get a close-up view of the locking mechanism from this side. It was essentially a wheel valve set on a short axle that ran through the gate, itself, into the old submarine pen. He wondered if there were some way to pre-jimmy it so it would be easier to unlatch from the pen.

  Omar put his hands on the wheel—one on the thick spokes and one on the wheel itself—then pulled with one hand while pushing upward with the other. The valve grudgingly moved an inch or two.

  Feeling as if he were being watched, Omar glanced back over one shoulder and found Wiyu hovering behind him. For a moment, they just stared at each other, then Nate squawked at him.

  “Omar, you okay? You coming up?”

  “Yeah, I was just checking the seagate and looking for the missing parts of the cart.”

  “Missing parts?”

  “You’ll see when you beach it. I think they’ve been covered by the sand. I can't find ’em.” He gave Wiyu a wave, then launched himself toward the surface.

  * * *

  “I think they’re making a lockpick.” Song stared, wide-eyed, at the habitat monitor.

  As ridiculous as that sounded, Omar had to agree. They watched as the dolphins nosed the parts they’d “borrowed” out into the sand near the seagate. The axle was steel; the wheels affixed to the ends like something from a super heavy-duty baby stroller. The dolphins were prodding it this way and that as if trying to decide what to do with it.

  “What if someone comes in and sees them doing that?” Song asked.

  Omar chewed his lower lip. “Well, I’ve thought about killing the feed and pretending it’s malfunctioning, but honestly, I think anyone else would think they were just playing.”

  As if to prove his point, Felix poked his head into the room. “Hey, Song,” he said, “I’m going down to the cantina for some dinner. Join me?” Before she could answer, Felix’s attention was captured by the feed from Solitary. He made a chuffing sound. “I guess that explains what happened to Nate’s food cart. You better get in there and take the kiddies’ toy away from them before they hurt themselves, Dolphin Whisperer.”

  “Yeah,” growled Omar. “I’ll get right on that.”

  Felix fixed his dark eyes on Song once more. “Dinner?”

  “No, thanks. I have other plans.” Her gaze wandered toward Omar, which had him blushing to the roots of his hair.

  Felix’s handsome face froze in a rictus of disbelief. He withdrew without further comment.

  Eventually, Song went down to the cantina and brought back food for both of them. Though they watched for several hours, the dolphins did no more than poke and prod and examine the cart axle. Eventually, they nudged it back into hiding and lost themselves among the kelp. The quiet nearly put Omar and Song to sleep.

  The sun set and shadow fell across the deep pool. Suddenly, there was a flurry of activity. The dolphins reappeared, pushed the axle and wheels out of hiding, and laid them on the floor of their tank near the seagate. The others hung back while Wiyu and Owu approached the device and studied it intently. That was when things got really interesting.

  Omar, who’d been nearly napping, was suddenly and completely awake. He rocked forward in his chair and flipped on the camera’s night vision filter.

  Song gripped his forearm. “What’s happening?” she whispered.

  He had no words. The solid steel axle, wheels and all, was floating up from the sand and drifting toward the seagate. It floated, ultimately, to the manual control for the seagate, at which point, the Beta male used his beak to nudge one end of the device through the spokes of the locking valve.

  Static chills danced up and down Omar’s spine as he watched two of the dolphins use the axle as a jimmy to rotate the valve. Each animal grasped a wheel in its mouth; one pulled up, one pushed down. The wheel turned, the bar pulled back out of its slot, and the seagate opened.

  “How did they do that?” breathed Song. “How did they know that’s how the seagate worked?”

  Omar swallowed. “I sort of showed them when I was in the tank today.”

  She turned to look at him, obviously as stunned as he was. “What do we do?”

  Omar answered her by reaching over and switching the tracking program offline. If the dolphins were detected leaving their habitat, it would set off alarms on every connected computer and cell phone.

  “What’s to do?” he asked, watching the dolphins disappear into the inner lock of the submarine pen. He leaned back in his chair. “Hey, I’ve got a deck of cards. Want to play Egyptian War?”

  * * *

  At midnight, long after Song had turned in, Omar reluctantly relinquished his chair to the graveyard operative, Lana. He’d taken the additional precaution of rotating the telltale camera away from the seagate so it was monitoring a stand of kelp. He hoped Lana wouldn’t notice right away, nor that the tracking program was off. All operators were supposed to perform a systems check when they came on duty, but even Omar occasionally forgot to.

  He headed to his room in staff quarters. He wondered if Song was still up as he passed her room. No light crept beneath the door, though. He had no real romantic intent; he simply doubted he’d be able to sleep—waiting for the axe to fall and all that. He just wanted her company.

  The axe fell at 4:23 A.M. Omar’s cell phone warned him that tagged animals were not where they were supposed to be. He’d been dozing, fully dressed, atop his comforter and hit the floor running. Song’s door flew open as he passed it. She stepped out into the hall and, for a moment, the two stared owlishly at each other. Together, they bolted for the observation center.

  They were the first to arrive. Being fully dressed had given them an advantage.

  “What’s wrong?” Omar asked Lana, as if he didn’t already know.

  She pointed at the computer. “I ran a system’s check about fifteen minutes ago. Did you know the tracking program was shut down?”

  Omar and Song exchanged a nervous glance. “Shut down?” he repeated. “You’re kidding.”

  “Not kidding. Worse than that—Lerner’s Dolphins are gone.”

  “Wow, I … I must’ve glitched and closed the wrong app. I’m … but how did they get away?”

  “That, Omar, is an excellent question.”

  Win Lerner entered the room on a prickly wave of concern that made Omar’s nose itch. Win gestured Lana to move over and took her place at the computer. His eyes raked the displays that showed the activity—or lack thereof—in Solitary Confinement.

  He frowned. “Didn’t we have a camera o
n the seagate?”

  Omar suddenly found it hard to breathe. “Uh, yessir. We did. It seems to have moved.”

  “Well, reposition it.”

  Omar was in the process of doing so when Cecily arrived. “Oh, my God,” she said. “It’s the Lerner’s Dolphins again.” She made a beeline for the secondary computer station, called up the tracking app, and peered at the desktop display. “And it looks as if they’ve gone right back to that canyon.” She glanced up at her husband. “How did they escape?”

  “Apparently through the seagate.” Win gestured at the monitor that now displayed the open access between the habitat tank and the lock. The cart axle still hung from the valve’s thick spokes. He looked down at Omar. “Did you do that?”

  “Me? No. No, sir. I didn’t.”

  “You wanted to let them go.”

  “Yes. I did.”

  “We did,” confessed Song. “But we didn’t let them out. They did that themselves.”

  The room was momentarily still and silent.

  “It’s true,” Omar said, finally. “We have it on video.”

  “That’s impossible,” said Win.

  Cecily cut him off. “We can deal with that later, Win. Right now, we need to mount a recovery team.” She turned her angry gaze to Omar. “You, Mr. Navarro, will pilot one of the subs.”

  * * *

  Omar would love to have done something to slow Icky II down and hinder the recovery effort, but what would be the point? There was no mystery about where the dolphins had gone. They were congregated in the box canyon where they’d been discovered. He had no doubt they’d be recaptured and returned to the habitat. The Lerners would probably have the seagate welded shut. And fire him. Probably Song, too.

  The sun had risen by the time they reached the trench, and the water around the submersibles had lightened to a deep aquamarine. Omar’s insides felt like lead as he piloted his craft into the mouth of the canyon. Roughly fifty yards from their bow, the six dots of light that represented the dolphins circled in a tight group. At twenty yards, they made visual contact.

  The images in the video displays were twilight gray, at first, but they grew clearer and sharper as a shaft of sunlight penetrated the water’s surface. Omar wasn’t sure when he realized it couldn’t be sunlight. That it was too early in the day for it to be that bright or to have that penetrative power—if it ever did in this trench. But there it was—a bright patch of wavering light, right at the end of the canyon.