by Roland Smith
“Don’t worry, I will,” Yvonne said.
“I need you to go up to my cabin on the bridge. There’s a tranquilizer pistol under my bunk. Have you ever used one?”
“Of course.”
“Load a couple of darts with ketamine. The drugs are in the fridge under the lab bench. You need to find Bo and tranq her ASAP. And no messing around with trying to coax or manipulate her into her cage. She’s way beyond that. She’s causing us more trouble than being dead in the water is. I want you to knock her out and drag her back into her cage.”
“I’m on my way to your cabin right now,” Yvonne said. “Where is she?”
“Hang on.” Wolfe scooted out from under the control panel and saw Luther staring down at the Gizmo.
“I’ve been listening,” Luther said, without looking up. “I lost her.”
“What?” Wolfe shouted.
“Hey,” Luther said. “The dragonspy isn’t easy to fly in the dark.”
Wolfe took a deep breath and calmed himself. “Sorry. I know you’re doing the best you can.”
“Duh du jour,” Luther said. “I’ll find her again. All I have to do is follow her path of destruction.”
“I’m in your cabin,” Yvonne said over the two-way.
“Is Cap at the helm?” Wolfe asked.
“Yes. He tried to stop me from going into your cabin. I shouted him out of the way.”
“Good. Give him your two-way while you load the darts.”
“Cap here.”
“There’s a spare secure radio in my desk. Fire it up and give it to Yvonne. She’s a member of the team now. And everyone else monitoring this call should treat her as such. She has full access to everywhere and everything. Do you all copy that?”
Al, Joe, and Bertha all acknowledged.
“Good. Now put Yvonne back on the two-way.”
“Hang on,” Cap said. “She has her hands full loading darts.”
While Wolfe waited he watched Luther concentrating on the screen. “Any luck?”
“Not yet,” Luther said. “But I just spotted Congo and PD.”
“The darts are loaded,” Yvonne said. “Where is she?”
“Luther’s tracking her.”
“With the tags?”
“No,” Wolfe said. “The tags are offline, and she didn’t have one on anyway.”
“I didn’t know that,” Yvonne said. “So how’s he tracking her?”
“I’ll tell you later,” Wolfe said. “You’ll be able to stay in touch with Luther on the radio Cap gives you.”
“Tell her to head down to the lab deck,” Luther said. “That’s the direction Bo was heading when I lost her and that’s also where Congo and PD are going.”
Wolfe filled Yvonne in, adding, “You’re officially my full-time animal behaviorist and trainer, Yvonne … that is, if you still want the job.”
“Are you kidding?” Yvonne said happily. “It’s a dream come true. I won’t let you down.”
“You never have. Thank you and good luck.”
Wolfe looked at Luther. “Park the dragonspy for a second. I need to configure your Gizmo so you can talk on our radios.”
Luther landed the dragonspy on a ceiling pipe. Wolfe punched in some numbers, then spoke into the speaker.
“Can you hear me, Yvonne?”
“Loud and clear.”
“Good. I’m handing you back to Luther.”
* * *
Lepod was wrong. There were eight whales, and to Marty’s relief they were only mildly interested in the Orb, which looked like a salmon egg next to their gigantic, gray, barnacle-encrusted bodies.
“Do you see the squid suction marks on that one?” Lepod was practically jumping out of his seat.
The marks were hard to miss. The whale was only inches away from the Orb and the marks were as big as garbage can lids.
“By the size of the scars I’d say the squid was at least thirty feet long,” Lepod said.
The whales circled the Orb for about three minutes, decided it wasn’t appetizing, and resumed their journey through the canyon in search of something more to their taste — like giant calamari.
“Are squid blind?” Marty asked.
“On the contrary,” Lepod said. “Their eyes are the largest of any animal on earth. The size is thought to be an adaptation to the dark realm in which they live. The large surface of receptors gathers what little light there is. Essentially they can see in the dark.”
“Then they must not be very smart,” Marty said. “The whales are not exactly using stealth to hunt them. Why would a squid come out of hiding to take on something the size of a house with teeth?”
“No one knows,” Lepod said. “My guess is that the whale doesn’t always win. Squid have an advantage over a whale. They don’t need to surface to breathe. If a squid got its arms and tentacles around a whale in the right way, it might be able to hold the whale under until it drowns. A sperm whale can stay underwater for an hour and a half. We don’t know how long this pod has been down here, but let’s say that they’ve been in the canyon for an hour. A squid would only have to keep one of them from surfacing for thirty minutes. And that isn’t taking into consideration the aerobic energy the whale would have to expend battling the squid.
“The whales are certainly hunting Architeuthis, but Archi-teuthis might also be hunting the whales. We know nothing about how Architeuthis hunt. They might hunt in packs. Three or four giant squid could easily overwhelm a single whale. It wouldn’t stand a chance. A whale carcass could feed a pack of giant squid for days. Not only would they be able to feed off the carcass, but the carcass would attract fresh food for the squid to eat. Clearly, the battle is worth the risk for both species.”
“We might not find out how they hunt on this dive,” Ted said. “In twenty-five minutes we’re heading to the surface.”
“This is a very deep canyon,” Lepod said. “Perhaps the walls are blocking the Coelacanth’s transmissions.”
“Not a chance,” Ted said. “We’re not using a radio signal you’d be familiar with, and I can’t tell you how it works for proprietary reasons.”
“Fair enough,” Lepod said. “But perhaps you could tell me how you plan to keep the squid alive if you’re lucky enough to get it aboard the Coelacanth? I’ve asked Dr. Wolfe several times and he’s refused to give me any details. I was brought aboard to help keep Architeuthis alive. This dive alone has certainly been worth the trip, but I can’t help you if I don’t know what the plan is.”
Ted laughed. “Actually, the reason you’re here is because it’s your plan, Dr. Lepod. We stole it from you. Three years ago you published a paper on the pressure chamber you built for giant squid.”
“Baby giant squid,” Lepod corrected. “Someday someone will catch a young squid. I built the chamber for that eventuality.”
“We kind of improved on the design and scale,” Ted said. “The Moon Pool is actually a giant pressure chamber. A closed system where we can re-create almost any atmospheric condition. We hope to get a squid inside the pool and match the conditions down here. On the way back to the States we’ll see if we can slowly acclimate the squid to a pressure more suitable for exhibition purposes. If that doesn’t work, we have an identical chamber at the Northwest Aquarium. It won’t work for exhibition, but we can keep Architeuthis alive in it until we figure out what to do. And since it was your idea, you can write as many scientific papers on it as you like.”
“Marvelous,” Lepod said giddily. “Absolutely marvelous.”
“What about the dolphins?” Marty asked.
“They’ll be kept in the holding pool, which is outside the chamber.”
“You’ve thought of everything,” Lepod said.
“Not everything,” Ted said. “I didn’t think we’d lose communication with the Coelacanth. We have twenty minutes.”
* * *
“What?” Wolfe shouted. He was still tinkering under the control panel while Luther continued to search for Bo.
“Pirates,” Al repeated over the radio. “A couple dozen of them. Nine speedboats that we’ve counted. Well armed. They’re shooting at Blackwood’s yacht. Blackwood is returning fire, but not very effectively. His cooks and waiters must be terrible shots.”
Wolfe scooted out from under the panel again and got to his feet.
“We have to help them,” he said.
“Are you crazy?” Al said. “This is the best thing that ever happened to us. If we’re lucky, they’ll sink both of Blackwood’s ships. It’s called Manifest Destiny, Wolfe. Or tough luck.”
“Knock it off, Al,” Wolfe said. “We can’t let them sink his ships.”
This was followed by a long silence.
Luther continued flying the dragonspy below deck, but he could imagine clearly the exasperated expression on Al Ikes’s face. Luther thought Wolfe was nuts, too.
“I’m sure I don’t have to remind you,” Al continued. “But Noah Blackwood is the same guy who had Roy killed, attempted to kidnap your daughter, and tried to have your nephew thrown overboard.”
“He’s done a lot more than that over the years,” Wolfe said. “And I’m still not willing to let him go down like that.”
“Okay,” Al said. “How about if we let the pirates have their way with him for a while? Let them mess up his ships like he’s messed up ours. Level the playing field a bit.”
“No,” Wolfe said.
“For crying out loud!” Al shouted. “A few weeks ago you stranded him in the middle of the Congo to die!”
Wolfe shook his head. “I knew Noah wouldn’t die. Butch was with him. And Butch McCall could make his way out of the jungle shackled and blindfolded.”
“Hang on a second,” Al said. “Four of the boats have broken off the attack and are headed this way.”
“I’m coming up,” Wolfe said, looking at Luther. “Let’s go.”
“What about Bo?” Luther asked.
“Park the bot. Maybe we’ll get lucky and she’ll run by. Right now we have bigger problems than a berserk chimpanzee.”
Luther landed the dragonspy on a ledge on the lab deck, just above one of the emergency lights. The little bot’s batteries were getting low and could use the time to recharge.
Wolfe got Yvonne on the radio as they made their way to the upper deck.
“Yvonne? Did you catch Al’s transmission?”
“Yes.”
“Luther’s with me. You’re on your own.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll get her,” Yvonne said. “I think I know where she is.”
* * *
Noah Blackwood was on the deck of Endangered One with cameras rolling, enjoying himself immensely.
When he was a kid he loved buccaneer movies — couldn’t get enough of them — and now he was right in the middle of one. The star, as a matter of fact. Rifle blazing. His face grim and determined as he repelled the horde of filthy cutthroats. The right sleeve of his khaki shirt was torn at the shoulder where a bullet had grazed him. Bright red blood dripped onto the deck from the terrible wound. He ignored the pain, which was easy because there was no pain. The rip in his sleeve had not been caused by a bullet, but by his personal makeup artist. The pirates firing at his beautiful ship were his own men firing blanks. The blood was his own blood. He never went anywhere without it. If he got in an accident that required a transfusion, he was not about to let his body be tainted with someone else’s blood. He had enough of his own blood stored in a special refrigerator aboard the yacht to fill himself up twice over.
He gave a signal.
The pirates broke off their attack and headed toward Wolfe’s dilapidated freighter.
“Get the boats!” Noah shouted. “They’re going after the Coelacanth. We have to stop them!”
He bounded over the rail as if he were jumping into a black Zodiac and landed on a king-sized mattress. He looked up at his cinematographer. “How’d that look?”
“Beautiful,” the cinematographer replied. “All we need now are a few tight shots of you in the Zodiac firing your rifle, shouting orders, and we’ll have a wrap.”
Noah stood. “Let’s get it over with, then. I have an appointment in a few minutes, and I don’t want to be late.” The footage would be carefully edited and played on television for the next decade. Noah smiled at the thought. Reality TV at its best.
* * *
Luther and Wolfe arrived on deck out of breath.
“They’re all heading this way now,” Al said. “Broke off the attack on Blackwood completely.”
The three-piece suit was gone. Al was dressed in full camouflage battle fatigues with a flak vest, helmet, and enough weapons strapped to his body to take on the nine boats of pirates single-handedly.
There were at least a dozen crew members on deck, also in flak vests, manning the strangest weapons that Luther had ever seen. There were three bolted to the deck on the port side, three on the starboard, and one each on the stern and bow. Each weapon had what looked like a small satellite dish on the front and a swivel seat protected by steel plating on the back. Men were strapped into the seats, looking through scopes, pivoting the units, and getting used to the controls. Joe and Phil were running from one unit to another shouting instructions on how to operate them.
“What the heck are those?” Luther asked.
“Sonic cannons,” Al said. “With pinpoint laser sights. We can blow up a pirate’s brain from the inside out if we want to.” He looked at Wolfe. “But I don’t suppose Dr. Pacifist here is going to let us do that.”
“Very astute, Al,” Wolfe said, mildly irritated. “We’ll start by blowing out their eardrums and just scramble their brains a little. If that doesn’t work, we’ll turn up the heat.”
“Fair enough,” Al said.
“Are these one of Ted’s inventions?” Luther asked
“No,” Al answered. “They’re military, but Ted has fiddled with them a bit to make them more accurate. He just can’t keep his hands off things.”
“Can I try one?” Luther asked.
“No!” Wolfe and Al said in unison.
“Do you have any spare flak vests?” Wolfe asked Al.
“There’s a pile of them over there.” He pointed.
“Put one on,” Wolfe told Luther. “Then go up to the bridge and stay there. And stay away from the windows.”
Disappointed, but not surprised, Luther put on the vest and tromped up to the bridge, which was abandoned. He peeked out the window, saw Wolfe staring up at him, and ducked down quickly. Then he remembered that there was more than one way to see outside. He took out the Gizmo.
* * *
The Orb followed the pod of whales as they slowly swam through the canyon, singing. Along the way, Marty and Ted saw several sunken ships and debris from the contents spread out along the bottom.
“If you want to make gas money for eWolfe, why don’t you use the Orb to explore some of these old wrecks?” Marty said. “I bet there’s a ton of loot down here.”
“We’ve talked about that,” Ted said. “It’s on our to do list. Someday we’ll come back here for a better look, but first we have to fix the communication malfunction. I also have to figure out some kind of air lock, or expulsion system, to get in and out of the Orb while it’s underwater. The keys are the only way in and out. We’re safe in our aquasuits, but put a tear in the fabric and the Orb would fill up like a water balloon. The instruments are completely waterproof. All I have to do is come up with a way of blowing the water out after we reseal it. Right now we have some other priorities. Like —”
“Excuse me,” Lepod interrupted.
“Go ahead.”
“We have some company behind us.”
Ted and Marty turned their heads and had a perfect high-definition view of at least six gigantic reddish bullets coming up behind them like race cars.
“They hunt in packs!” Lepod said. “I thought they …”
Ted pulled the controls back and the Orb shot up like a ballistic missile. Thei
r stomachs dropped to their toes. Lepod started gagging.
“I warned you about vomiting,” Ted said.
Like anyone can control that, Marty thought, trying to swallow the bile sneaking up his own throat.
“I also told you the Orb was quick,” Ted added proudly, pausing it about two hundred feet above the canyon floor and flipping on the powerful lights.
They had a perfect ringside view of the greatest tag-team event ever witnessed by a human being. The whales had whipped around and were charging the charging giant squid. When they collided, the bottom sediment erupted into a gigantic plume of gray murk and defensive squid ink. Even with the bright lights, all they could see were flashes of flukes, teeth, arms, and tentacles.
“Are you recording this?” Lepod croaked.
“Yep,” Ted confirmed. “Pretty amazing. I’ve never seen this much violence in one place.”
It was over as quickly as it had begun. When the water cleared, the score was Whales, 3; Squid, 1. Three of the whales had squid clamped in their mouths. A fourth whale was on the bottom, engulfed by the long arms and tentacles of four more squid. There was no sign of the four other whales.
“They probably took off in the confrontation,” Lepod said, having difficulty speaking with the contents of his stomach stuck in his helmet. “They’re probably heading to the surface for air. The question is, were the squid after the Orb, or was the Orb simply in their path to getting to the whales?”
“I don’t know,” Ted said.
Marty was still shocked by how quick the squid and the whales had been. On television documentaries, whales always looked so laid-back and calm. There was nothing laid-back and calm about what he had just witnessed.
“There’s one way to find out,” Lepod said. “There are two smaller squid lying in wait about ten feet to the right of the suffocating whale.”
“I see them,” Ted said.
Marty saw them, too, but they didn’t look that small to him.
“They are probably subdominant to the larger squid, waiting their turn to eat,” Lepod continued. “You might want to take the Orb down and see if you can get one of them to come after us.”
