by Olga Werby
Toby rewarded her with a burst of happiness neurotransmitter cocktail that she had developed just for the raven. I’ll also need to find a mixture that works for Mele, Toby thought.
Somehow, Cory recognized the meaning of Mele from Toby’s thoughts. She cawed softly.
“Awake?” Kyle murmured to Toby through Cory.
Toby had Cory hop onto his shoulder and nibble at his hair. Cory was happy to do it. Kyle bristled at first, but then let Cory groom him a bit.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said, still keeping his voice so low that only Cory could hear him.
In response, Cory pinched his ear.
“Ouch!” he cried.
Cory jumped back on the neck support of the driver’s seat.
“Need anything, Toby?” Kyle asked, addressing Cory quietly.
Cory shook her head from side to side, lifting her feet in tandem with her head. It looked comical from the back, almost like the raven was dancing.
“Let me know,” he said. Kyle was driving with his right hand on the wheel, his left sticking out of the rolled-down window. The draft rustled Cory’s feathers.
“Everything okay?” the man in the passenger seat asked.
“Fine, Rider. Go back to sleep.”
Rider? Toby had never heard of anyone named Rider. She made Cory take a good look at the man. He wore the same uniform as Kyle—some sort of overalls in a desert camouflage pattern. On his sleeve was the US Army Brats logo patch that had become so very familiar in the last few weeks at the Arizona base. But apart from his outfit, the man was completely unremarkable: medium height, medium weight, ordinary brown hair in a common style. Toby decided that he would be able to blend in anywhere he wanted.
She wanted to stay in bed for a bit longer, but she needed to use the bathroom and get something to eat. She pulled off her blankets and got on her feet. She was connected to the IV and wearing her portable BBI amplification link—and of course there was the oxygen cord—but as long as she took the IV with her, all the tubes and cords were long enough to allow her to use the bathroom and walk about the cabin.
After she finished freshening up, she grabbed a banana and took a seat behind Rider.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hi,” Kyle and Rider answered at the same time, both using no more than a whisper.
“Nice to meet you, Toby,” Rider said. “I’m Rider, Kyle’s friend.” He smiled. He had a warm voice and kind eyes.
“Have we met before?” Toby asked.
“No. Not officially.”
Not officially? That probably meant he knew all about her, while she knew nothing of him. “How long have you known Kyle?”
“Decades.” It was a vague answer that didn’t give anything away. “I’m here to help get you to a new Brats facility not far from Puget Sound.”
“Next to Seattle?” Toby knew it as one of the places where orcas liked to congregate.
“That’s the place.”
It was funny—it had taken a long time for Toby to warm up to Kyle, but she was finding Rider easy to like. Her guess was that Cory liked him already and now the raven’s feelings were influencing her own judgment. But that was how riding worked—information and control flowed in both directions.
“George has briefed Rider on the whole program,” Kyle said, “so you’re free to talk to him.”
“Huh. Thank you,” Toby said. “I figured that much, seeing as he’s here.”
Kyle grinned and gave Rider an “I told you so” look.
“Are you a rider too, Rider?” Toby asked.
“I wish. I’ve told Kyle how jealous I am of his relationship with Grock.”
In the back, Grock heard his name and stirred.
“Shh,” Kyle said and Toby realized he was riding Grock. She wondered if Grock’s sleepiness impaired Kyle’s ability to stay awake while driving. She didn’t think she could operate heavy machinery under the influence, so to speak. “Let’s not wake Vikka,” Kyle explained. “She’s had a rough couple of days.”
“Of course,” Toby said. Days? She wondered how long she herself had been asleep.
“George and I have been setting up another Brats lab close to the ocean,” Rider said. “You wanted to ride a whale, so…” He waved his hands as if he were doing some hand magic. “Poof. We have a place to go.”
“I didn’t know,” Toby said.
“No one did,” Kyle said. He shot Rider an unhappy glance that said including me.
“What Kyle is trying to say is that he was way too busy with other things,” Rider said with a disarming smile. “And I did a pretty good job of it too. The new lab facility is pretty impressive and will allow us to do basic research with you and Mele. In fact that’s the facility’s sole purpose: to help you bond with our big girl.”
“And Uncle Geo is moving Mele and her family there?” Toby asked.
“Yes. As we speak.”
“And my dad? What’s happened to him? Is he all right?” Toby found the question difficult to ask. What would happen if he wasn’t all right?
“He’s fine,” Kyle said. “A bit rattled, but fine. He’s helping move all three of the whales. They’ll go by truck and then boat. They should arrive a few weeks after we do.”
“Weeks!” Toby had no idea it would take that long.
Rider smiled at her. “Weeks until you’ll be in the same place at the same time,” he said. “But we hope you’ll start getting to know Mele way before she arrives in Washington.”
“You mean…?”
“We’ve set up a satellite link to connect you and Mele,” Kyle said. “In fact, we could hook you up right now…” He smiled. “That is, if you want to.”
“Yes, I want to! I would love to link with Mele. I can explain to her what’s happening and she can communicate it to her mom and Spila. She’s young, but so smart. She’ll tell them what’s going on.” Toby was so excited that she found it difficult to take in enough air to sustain her words.
“Take it easy,” Kyle said sternly. “We need you healthy.”
“Yes, of course,” Toby said between deep breaths. “I’ll be good.” She began the breathing exercises Vikka had taught her.
“I know you will,” Kyle said. “Go back and lie down on your bed. Rider can link you up there and he’ll monitor you. But only for an hour or so,” Kyle quickly cautioned. “We don’t want to wear you out. And we don’t want to tire Mele.”
“Of course!” Toby said. She was already heading back to her bed.
Twenty-One: +67 Months and 6 Days
It was dark again.
Toby tried to ignore the information that came through Mele’s eyes. She had to get used to taking in the whole spectrum of data—data that the whale’s brain resolved into an underwater landscape of images. It wasn’t easy. Toby was used to controlling the animals she rode and now she needed to let go and allow Mele to teach her about an orca’s senses and sensory processing systems. And she needed the calf’s cooperation that Toby had yet to earn.
“Good girl,” Toby thought. She formed mental images of splashing water and rolling waves.
Mele reacted. Toby thought she recognized the splashing, but the waves were new to her.
Obviously, she’s never seen open water, Toby chided herself. Mele and Spila had been born at the marine park—that was all they knew. So Toby would have to find other shared experiences to build a friendship with the young whale.
But before she could come up with anything, Mele showed her an image. It was some men in military uniforms securing a truck. On the side of the truck was a picture of an orca and a diver.
Is that where you are? Toby thought. She tried to communicate this not in words, but in mental images. She imagined this was how human babies thought before they learned language.
Mele next shared an image of several trucks—and Toby got a confused impression of a whale being transferred into one of those trucks via a large sling attached to crane. Toby saw herself suspended above the trucks an
d then lowered into a very small space filled with bad-tasting water. There was a lot of emotion attached to these images—Mele was obviously scared.
Is that where you are? Toby thought her question again.
Mele didn’t answer, but Toby felt the orca’s agitation and discomfort at being confined in such a small space. By human standards, Toby was sure the truck was huge, but that wasn’t how Mele perceived it. I need to start thinking about the world in whale proportions, Toby thought. Mele’s mother was probably even more uncomfortable. Toby wondered if the people who were supervising the whale move—that would be Uncle Geo and her dad—had considered administering some sedatives to the animals. Toby read somewhere that people did that to cats and dogs if they were too anxious to fly on a plane. But perhaps whales were different? How much medication does one give to a whale? Did Dad worry about accidental drowning? Toby wished her dad were here with her so she could discuss her experiences with him.
She pulled up a memory of her motor home and constructed a visual of herself inside—using Cory’s view. She sent that visual idea to Mele. See? We are both traveling inside a small home, she tried to communicate.
Toby wasn’t sure how much of this exchange Mele understood. She felt that she got more information than she was able to send, but it was a start.
Mele tapped her awareness, or at least that’s how Toby interpreted it. The young whale wanted Toby to pay attention to her. Mele seemed scared and bored—Toby was learning to interpret the chemical brain signals. She considered giving Mele a little zap of chemically induced happiness, but she was wary of trying something like this so soon when she knew so little about the whale’s reactions.
After a few confusing minutes, Toby and Mele settled into a kind of “I show you, you show me” game. Toby tried to construct detailed mental pictures to share with Mele and Mele, in turn, shared glimpses of visual memories with Toby. They went back and forth for at least an hour before Mele’s attention wandered away.
Toby stayed in Mele’s consciousness, though. She wanted to get more practice, more comfort, using Mele’s senses. Skin sensation was clearly important—the vibrations of the moving truck translated to the water inside the tank. Mele, in turn, perceived it as a cross between an irritant and a continuous view of the shape of her enclosure. It was a very haptic view, a tactile sense of how the walls and the floor felt and were shaped. It was also a little like the tank was continuously screaming at Mele to pay attention to it, like a scratchy sweater that didn’t fit well. As hard as Mele tried to ignore her water cage, it insisted on being felt with every bump and turn of the road.
But then the truck stopped and new sensations were transmitted through the water. Sounds. Toby knew sound waves traveled even better in water than they did in air. She remembered herself as a child, immersed in a bathtub, her ears below the water level. Her mother tried to talk with her and her voice sounded weird—the sound waves changed when they hit the water.
“Whoooooooaaaaaaah.” Mele made a mournful call and it reverberated from the walls of the tank. “Whoooooooaaaaaaah.”
“Ah!” Toby screamed out in her traveling bed.
“What is it?” Vikka and Rider said simultaneously.
“The whale caravan has stopped,” Toby said. “And Mele cried out. I think she was calling for her mother.” Toby didn’t know if that was really true, but she found herself thinking of her own mother just now and it felt right.
“They must have stopped to feed the orcas,” Rider said. “Which is probably something you need to do too—eat. You haven’t eaten in a long time, Toby. We can’t have you losing your strength.”
“How long has it been?” Toby asked.
“A little over four hours,” Rider said.
Four hours? Kyle had told her she could only have one hour. She was glad he’d changed his mind.
“He’s right, Toby,” Vikka said. She leaned over to give Toby a kiss.
Through the BBI, Mele felt Vikka’s touch. The whale cried out. Toby pulled away from Vikka with a shudder.
Vikka tried not to look offended. Rider just observed curiously.
“Sorry, Vikka,” Toby said. “Mele is upset and it was just weird—”
“It’s fine, Toby. Don’t worry about it.” Vikka smiled, stood up, and walked over to the little kitchen. Toby could tell she was still upset. Vikka had been pretty emotional lately.
“Should I disconnect you?” Rider asked.
“I don’t know,” Toby said. “Are they really stopping to feed the whales?”
“Kyle?” Rider called to the front. “What’s up with the whale caravan?”
“George said they were feeding,” Kyle barked out. “They’ll be on their way soon. Don’t worry.”
He must be in constant communication with the whale group, Toby thought. That was helpful. She wondered if they would let her talk to her dad.
“Here you go,” Vikka said. She brought over a little tray table with a bowl of soup and placed it over Toby’s stomach. “Eat this. If you’re still hungry, we’ll stop at a real restaurant and have dinner.”
“A real restaurant?” Rider asked.
“You know what I mean,” Vikka said. She went back to the kitchen area. “Do you boys want anything?”
“I think I’ll wait for the real restaurant,” Rider said. He smirked and walked back to the front to sit with Kyle.
The low cries of Spila and Kona came through the walls of the truck. Mele answered them with her own unique sound. The whale caravan was still parked and Toby hoped they started moving again soon. This transport was very uncomfortable for Mele. The young whale had urinated in the water earlier and now she could smell-taste it. Mele hated that; it made her cringe and Toby cringed with her. She hoped the whales were never moved this way again.
Kyle had said that they would drive through the night to San Diego, where the whales would be transferred to a nice enclosure at the local SeaWorld. They’d spend a week there, getting a much-needed respite before the next leg of the journey, where they’d transfer to a tanker and finish the move to the new Brats facility. By the time Mele and her family arrived, Toby would have been at the new lab for just about two weeks. By then, Toby hoped, she and Mele would be fast friends.
After all, during the journey, Toby would get Mele all to herself. Once the young whale was reunited with her mother and brother, she would be too excited—and too overcome by the new environment—to bond with Toby. So really, a lot of the important foundational work had to happen now.
A trap door at the top of Mele’s tank opened and a woman appeared with a basket of fish. Toby could tell that Mele knew who this person was. Mele even shared an image of this woman in a wetsuit swimming alongside her and patting her affectionately on the upper lip.
“Good girl, Mele. Good girl,” the woman said. “Want some fish?”
Mele was too distressed to eat. Toby was upset for her and inadvertently amplified these negative emotions. Mele wanted to swim in circles and release her frustration through physical activity, but there was no room. So instead she banged her head against the front wall of her tank. The whole tank shuddered and the woman yelped, almost falling from her perch. The basket of fish toppled out of Mele’s view. Good riddance—who can eat in a toilet?
The woman went away and the hatch was closed. It was dark again. Other than proprioception vision and echolocation, Mele was blind.
Toby cried.
“What is it?” She dimly heard Vikka’s voice.
“It’s dark and lonely. And I want my mother,” Toby said, waking up to her human form.
Vikka came over and hugged her. “Your mother? Or Mele’s mother?” she asked in a hushed voice.
“My mother,” Toby whimpered.
Vikka rocked her back and forth like a baby. It made Toby feel better—and Mele too. After a while, Toby—or was it Mele?—dozed off and the trucks started moving again.
The next time Toby connected with Mele, she found herself ravenously hungry.
“Food,” she said. “I need food.”
Vikka was seated across from her. “Okay, we’ll stop at the next exit and eat. Are you hankering for anything special?” She pulled out her cell phone—to look up dining options, Toby presumed.
“There’s a nice barbecue place about fifty miles from here,” Rider said. He was driving now and Kyle was asleep in the passenger seat. “It’s a dive, but the food is excellent.”
“I was hoping for seafood,” Toby said suddenly. The desire for raw fish was almost overwhelming. “Sushi.”
“You don’t like sushi,” Vikka said. “Remember?”
“I do now.”
Vikka looked at her with a look that had become familiar to Toby over the last few months. It expressed a mixture of extreme tiredness and a sense of not knowing what to do.
“I don’t think sushi is a thing around here,” Rider said. “Perhaps some fish and chips, but I wouldn’t recommend it. We’re in the heart of barbecue country here.”
“No fish?” Toby said, sounding pathetic even to herself. Somewhere inside, Mele stirred. Toby felt the young whale’s hunger pains.
“Are you okay?” Vikka asked, pointing to Toby clutching her stomach. “Perhaps something easy on the system would be better. I have yogurt,” she offered.
Mele didn’t know yogurt and the visual image of it that Toby sent her wasn’t appealing. “Is there anything else?” Toby asked.
“I can make a tuna fish sandwich,” Vikka said. “We have some cans and bread.”
“I’ll take one,” Rider called out.
“Me too,” Toby said. It was processed fish, but perhaps it would do.
After a few minutes, Vikka brought Toby a sandwich of chunky canned tuna lightly mixed with mayo. Toby tore into the sandwich as if she hadn’t eaten in days, which was mostly true. She’d eaten only lightly since they’d arrived at the marine park. But the taste of the tuna fish sandwich didn’t match Mele’s expectations, which meant it ended up tasting bad to Toby too. After the first enthusiastic bite, she almost gagged and had to put the food down.
