Ocean: The Sea Warriors

by Brian Herbert

  Vinson and Emily, having already sent molecular commands to their minions, enjoyed the show, as crustaceans crawled onto screaming men and women on the ship and on the dock, and ripped them to pieces. Some of the victims fired handguns in an effort to save themselves, but it was a hopeless effort, because for every crab they killed there were ten more to take its place.

  When it was all over, and the screams had stopped, Vinson Chi’ang and Emily Talbot swam out of the harbor into the open sea, while behind them their army of killers scuttled back into the water.

  Kimo heard the horrendous news just as he, Alicia, and Dirk were leading more than two hundred seventy new Sea Warriors back to the surface, after they were transformed by Moanna. There had been a glitch when four of the recruits were rejected by the deity, for varying reasons—but this time, all of them made it back to the surface without harm.

  There had already been rumors of Sea Warriors metamorphosing into strange creatures, and when reports of the vicious murders hit the news outlets later that day, their opponents had their confirmation—or at least they attempted to twist it to their advantage. A number of vociferous opponents (including some news announcers) were calling for swift action to be taken against the Sea Warriors, to stop them from killing more people, and from harming tourism, and from interfering with the national security interests of the United States. A few influential environmentalists and other ocean-rights supporters were beginning to hedge their bets, too, calling for an immediate investigation of the mass murders—and punishment of the Sea Warriors if they were found to be culpable.

  Any critics of the Sea Warriors, however, had to deal with the details of the video recording that someone in the Navy leaked to the public—which seemed to prove that Chi’ang and Talbot had turned against the organization and were trying to enrich themselves by making a lucrative deal with the Navy—before it all went bad, very bad. The video recording also made it clear that the first two murders had been committed by Vinson Chi’ang and Emily Talbot, and Kimo was certain they were involved in the others as well, hundreds of slaughtered sailors.

  Kimo ordered his followers to find the two defectors, so that they could be brought to justice. That evening, Dirk Avondale took charge of the search effort.

  A report also came in from Fuji, telling Kimo that some of the biggest donors were beginning to waffle on their financial pledges, and were threatening to withdraw their support. Fuji also reported that some associate members had quit, and she said she was arranging with Jimmy Waimea to get the truth out—despite the insistence of her husband that she quit the radical organization because her involvement was ruining his political career. She wouldn’t do it, cared more about life in the sea than she cared about her life with Heinz Churchill.

  She told Kimo, however, that even under the best interpretation, the murderous rampage was yet another example of rogue elements in the Sea Warriors that had caused serious problems and now death. Jimmy, while he knew the names of everyone involved, was holding back the identity of Gwyneth McDevitt, while publicizing the identities and personal backgrounds of Chi’ang and Talbot, including exclusive details provided to him by the Sea Warriors. Other members of the press were calling the entire organization freaks and killers, but Jimmy insisted that was not true, and he focused instead on disobedient elements that had gone against Kimo’s orders, and how Kimo was doing everything possible to regain control of his organization, and put tighter controls on their actions. But privately, Jimmy was warning Fuji that the authorities would certainly attempt to put an end to the group, and put them all under arrest.

  After dark, Kimo conducted a clandestine meeting of the hybrids, in a cove on the north side of Oahu. All of the members were extremely upset, and many were not only fearful of physical changes that might take over their bodies—but were also worried that they might go insane, as had obviously occurred with Chi’ang and Talbot. The press was calling it “another Pearl Harbor attack.” More than six hundred officers and seamen had been viciously murdered, and hundreds more had been hospitalized, almost all of them with gruesome injuries. It was international news, making sensational headlines.

  “This crisis threatens to prevent us from accomplishing our goals,” Kimo told the group, who were all in shallow water, some standing and some more immersed. He could have used the molecular communication system to speak with them underwater, but some of the new members were not comfortable with that method yet, so he had opted for this method instead. Around them on the shores, the lights of waterfront homes were on—but so far no one seemed to have noticed the meeting.

  He took questions from several of the warriors, and answered them briefly, but candidly. “If any of you wish to leave the organization I will of course understand, and no one will prevent you from doing so. You may go with my blessing, and gratitude—and if you do leave, perhaps we can join up at a later time when it is safer and we can effectively resume our work on behalf of the ocean. You will always be welcome to return. I won’t lie to you. As it is now, our cause is in serious jeopardy, and all of us are in grave danger.” He paused, and looked out at the shadowy shapes in the water, dimly illuminated by starlight and a partially-visible moon that hung low on the horizon.

  When no one said anything, Kimo asked, “Do any of you wish to leave? If you do, now is the time.”

  “We’re staying with you,” a man said. And more men and women promised the same, both those who had metamorphosed dramatically and those who had not. He recognized some of their voices, including Dirk, Alicia, Jacqueline, and the transformed reef fish, Pauline Deveaux. Gwyneth didn’t say anything, but he knew where she was, a lumpy shape standing a short distance from him.

  “All right,” Kimo said. “I appreciate this very much, I really do. Now all of you follow me. We’re relocating to a safer place, away from all this trouble.”

  He led them on an hour-long swim to a small island that had been formed by an ancient volcano, of which only a crescent-shaped rim remained visible above the water. He’d been to this islet in the past on fishing trips with his adoptive father, Tiny. Now the island and its sheltered waters would become the new headquarters of the Sea Warriors.

  When they arrived, the moon was full, illuminating their new home like a spotlight. Although it looked like a coral-reef atoll from a distance, it was not that at all. Instead, it was a weathered curvature of volcanic rock, and the caldera at the center was deep and pockmarked with underwater tunnels through the solidified magma, offering numerous escape routes to the sea.

  By the time everyone was settling down on the dark, cinder-sand beach and in the shallows nearby, Kimo took a moment to look closely at Gwyneth, who floated in water near the large reef fish-humanoid, Pauline Deveaux. The autistic teenager was continuing to change, in startling ways. Her body was twice the size it had been before and had lost all definition, with no arms, legs, or discernible head. She was all body and eyes, with the mouth still there, but tiny. She could swim fast and deep, making undulating motions in the water. She was unlike any creature Kimo had ever seen before, and unlike any of the whales, dugongs, or other large-bodied animals that she had once been able to control.

  ***

  Chapter 20

  Jeff Ellsworth crept through the cabin of another abandoned yacht, feeling it move beneath his feet, pitching and creaking on the waves. It was early morning, and he had just landed the ‘copter and tied it downwind of the elegant watercraft. In a swimsuit, with the waterproof pack on his back, he dripped water on the floor.

  He had buzzed the yacht prior to boarding it and no one had come out. The day before, he had plundered his second pleasure boat, and so far he had stolen tens of thousands of dollars-worth of jewelry and other valuables—things he was hiding in the jungle, and would sell to a fence as soon as he could make the arrangements. He’d already put out feelers, very carefully.

  Jeff was feeling increasingly panicked about his financial situation, which added greatly to his other problems. Paul
y Tahina had completely dropped out of sight, and was not responding to encrypted e-mails Jeff had sent, trying to explain that there would be an unavoidable delay before he could resume the payments on the condominium and the Ferrari—and that he could not possibly get the additional funds from his grandfather. The stress was taking a toll on Jeff, and he was beginning to lose weight, from not being able to hold food down in an upset stomach.

  This yacht had a wide master bedroom in the aft section, with portholes around the rear of the cabin. Kneeling, Jeff opened a drawer under the bed, removed two expensive watches and slipped them into his pocket. He then scooped up a thick billfold from a nightstand and pocketed it as well.

  He peered through a window and satisfied himself that the helicopter was remaining in place, then took another moment to listen, and heard the sea lapping against the hull of the yacht. But something did not seem right here. A slight odor? It was as if someone had been aboard only a few minutes before he arrived.

  Cautiously, he moved toward the head, where the wooden door was closed. He opened the door, and to his shock he saw a naked man sitting on the toilet, pointing a snub-nose .38 pistol at him. The man was groggy and his eyes were bloodshot. His black hair looked like a wild shrub, sticking out in all directions.

  “I thought I heard somebody out there,” he said, sounding very drunk. “You sure made a helluva lot of noise with that helicopter, but I don’t think you’re a cop. You don’t look like a cop. What the hell are you doing on my boat?”

  Jeff slammed the door closed, but as he did so, the man fired through the wood, blasting bullets and splinters into the cabin. Desperately, Jeff looked for the heaviest object he could find, decided it was a dresser drawer and yanked it out of its cabinet, dumping a small flashlight, an alarm clock, and clothing on the deck. Moments later, the door swung open and the man lurched out, firing wildly. He stumbled on the flashlight and fell on the floor, still firing.

  Waiting on one side, Jeff lunged and swung the drawer hard, slamming it onto the man’s head, sending him sprawling and the gun flying loose from his grasp. Jeff swung again and again until the man stopped moving, and lay there with deep gashes on his head, and blood pooling around him. It was all Jeff could do to avoid being killed.

  He grabbed the gun, and ran.

  Fuji Namoto looked around the large office she had rented in downtown Honolulu. The office had received a bomb threat and a personal warning directed at her, so she had ordered the evacuation of most personnel, leaving only a few desks occupied with volunteers, all working on projects to improve the public image of the Sea Warriors, which had been slipping. In addition, she had beefed up private security around the building.

  This morning the federal government had issued arrest warrants for all of the hybrid Sea Warriors, with Vinson Chi’ang, Emily Talbot, and Kimo Pohaku sharing the role of Public Enemy Number One—despite the lack of evidence against Kimo. Pictures of their faces (including the grotesque facial deformity of Emily) were appearing everywhere, in newspapers, on the television and internet, in flyers posted around the city. Every other person associated with the organization—including Fuji and the associates who worked with her—were being watched carefully, and were considered potential suspects.

  Potential suspects. She’d heard Admiral Turner and her own husband, the Governor, use that disturbing term. It had an ominous sound, and carried a certain inevitability of arrest and prosecution about it. Later today she was going to meet with her legal team to see what could be done in the courts to reverse what was becoming a grossly unfair hate campaign against the Sea Warriors, involving innuendo and guilt by association.

  She heard a rap at the door, and a booming male voice: “Military authorities! Open up!”

  Slowly, Fuji rose to her feet and made her way to the door. As she did so, she noticed with pride that everyone continued working, as if nothing had gone wrong.

  Her pulse raced when she opened the door and saw her scowling husband standing there, with a squad of armed National Guardsmen. He was looking very official, and glared at her in a way that made her heart sink. She still loved him, but didn’t see how their relationship could ever survive this battle of opposing wills that had become so public, and so vitriolic.

  “We’re shutting this office down,” Heinz announced, as the soldiers streamed in past her. “For your own safety, and the safety of other associate members.”

  “Yes, for our own safety. What a convenient excuse to do what you want to do anyway.” She walked with him toward the center of the office, noticed that his gray ponytail and the hair around the sides of his head looked unkempt.

  Governor Churchill ordered the squad sergeant to escort everyone to waiting transport vehicles, and to box up all of the papers and remove them for “safekeeping.” Fuji knew what that meant: they would pore over every document, searching for evidence to use against the organization, and against individuals.

  When he turned back to her, she asked him, “Why are you here? Couldn’t you just pick up the phone and issue the orders, or tap a few keys and transmit them?”

  “I’m here because I still care about you, and I remember the many good times we had, before his unfortunate matter of the ocean came between us—and the fanatical elements you’ve become associated with.”

  “Don’t you read the papers or listen to news broadcasts? Haven’t you heard anything I’ve said in interviews, that the first incident of the islands being cordoned off was caused by a rogue member, and the mass murders were committed by two more rebellious members, without any authorization?”

  “I know all about that, but assuming everything you’re saying is true, and Kimo Pohaku is entirely innocent, any sane person still has to ask, what is it about the Sea Warriors that attracts fanatics? If it’s a breeding ground for ecological insanity—generating actions that have proven to be dangerous and an assault against the security of this nation—it is patently clear that the entire organization needs to be shut down. Whether we call the Sea Warriors terrorists or not, they must be disbanded because of the criminal activities.”

  “What about the welfare of the ocean?”

  “This isn’t the way to go about it. This is going too far.”

  “I told you, Kimo never intended any of the bad things that have happened. He only wanted to shut down the beaches for a day, and then withdraw. It was a public protest, the wish of his dying father. Kimo honored that wish, and elevated the creatures of the sea. He’s only demanding that the ocean be treated with the respect it deserves.”

  “That will all come out in court after he and his cohorts are arrested and brought to justice.”

  “Do you consider me one of his cohorts?”

  “No, I mean the swimming ones that are causing so much trouble, the hybrids.” Heinz shook his head sadly. “It’s all so bizarre that I can hardly wrap my mind around it.”

  She watched as the office workers were escorted out, the papers were boxed up, and the computers removed. “And yet, Heinz, it has occurred. Humans have actually been transformed into creatures of the sea, and that’s only fitting, because our species crawled out of the sea millions of years ago, and began to move on the land.”

  “I know all about that, and about the remnants of gills in our bodies, and the way a human fetus resembles the fetus of a fish, and the fact that amniotic fluids have a chemical makeup like that of seawater.”

  “Very good,” she said with a grim smile. “So it should not be that much of a stretch for you to realize that it’s only proper for humans to return to the ocean in order to correct the injustices committed against it, to heal the waters—and the marine animals—to what they should be.”

  The Governor pursed his lips thoughtfully, nodded. “Look, I know you’re an unwitting participant in the crimes of the Sea Warriors. I know you would never condone the actions they’ve taken, even though you believe in the underlying cause of the organization.”

  “Don’t lump the intentions of all of the S
ea Warriors together so easily. The leadership had nothing to do with unauthorized criminal behavior. It blindsided them as much as it did the rest of us—and they want to reverse it as much as any of us do.”

  “No one can bring six hundred dead sailors back to life. Not even that ocean goddess that you insist exists. Moanna.”

  “I’m not the only one who believes in her. Millions of people in all nations have had their world view changed. The ocean is fighting back! And if that’s not startling enough, there seem to be supernatural forces at work on behalf of the ocean, perhaps gods and magic. You’ve heard the buzz in the news, on the street, and everywhere. Churches around the Earth are grappling with this idea, trying to figure out how they fit into the new reality. The U.S. Government and Navy would like to believe the strange events are all explainable by science and that they can find a technical, military way to fight back—but what if they’re wrong? What if the ocean is another realm entirely, something paranormal that we humans can’t combat in any way known to us? What if human civilization can only capitulate to a greater power?”

  “I’m surprised at you. With your background in ocean science, you should be able to figure out what’s really happening.”

  “Well, the swimming Sea Warriors were transformed somehow, getting all those physical enhancements that allow them to live in the ocean. From my perspective, it’s less important to figure out how it happened than to recognize the reality of Ocean Power and deal with the problem that some of the hybrids received additional features that were not anticipated. Vinson Chi’ang and Emily Talbot were extremely upset when they discovered they had become part crustacean, and they went crazy.”