Cachalot

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Cachalot Page 18

by Alan Dean Foster


  In a perverse fashion Cora discovered she was disappointed. She had expected some extraordinary genius to be behind all this. Instead, the only humans so far known to be involved had turned out to be nothing more than petty crooks.

  "If you intend to quit in three months," Rachael pleaded, "why not just hold us for that time and then let us go?"

  "I'm sorry," Hazaribagh said genuinely. "I don't think that would be good business. You now know all about our activities. Despite any promises you might give, I'm not sure I could trust you to be silent in this matter. I think it would be safer to dispose of you, much as I regret the necessity. As to the manner of your death, I think that it will be ascribed to the general destruction of Vai'oire."

  Two guards shoved and pushed them toward the railing, then down to the lower deck. Hazaribagh followed. A section of rail was lowered, leaving them backed against the sea below.

  "You could keep us for three months and then decide!" Rachael argued desperately. "We'd still be your prisoners. You could kill us any time after. Why spoil your claimed record of not having murdered anyone and maybe have some jealous crewmember expose you for it later in the future?"

  "We don't have any jealous crewmembers," Hazaribagh informed her. "We suffered together. Now we're growing rich together. And we'll all be equally guilty." He stood back while the guards, who had grown to six, checked their weapons.

  "We have reasonably efficient facilities on this ship for processing large quantities of meat." He finished his drink, tossed the foil glass over the side. "We wouldn't want to spoil the whales' record of not leaving any bodies to be found. We'll process you as quickly as we can.

  "As for holding you for three months and then deciding, why should I give such obviously resourceful folk as yourselves ninety days to escape or sow dissension or put out a call for help? If I kill you now, then I won't be troubled by such possibilities, and this unfortunate business will be off my mind, I tell you."

  One of the guards stepped forward slightly and raised a weapon. Cora noted it was one of those that fired explosive shells, and tensed. Hazaribagh apparently meant to finish them off as quickly as possible. The guard sighted down the narrow barrel at Mataroreva.

  Something huge and fast flew through the air like an ancient express train, blotting out the sun.

  Chapter XIII

  There were faint thumps. Half the gunman went one way. His lower torso and legs stood tottering on the deck while blood fountained everywhere. The immense shape landed on the planking, nearly breaking through the tough metal into the hold below. A second guard was crushed beneath it The others fled in understandable panic.

  Hazaribagh was stumbling backward for the nearest walkway leading to the upper level as four and a half tons of killer whale thrashed about and made a shambles of the stern deck, instrumentation, and any human being foolhardy or blind enough to come within range of flukes or teeth.

  "Now!" Merced shouted, flipping his mask into place. "Over the side!" He turned and leaped for the water. Mataroreva, Dawn, and Cora followed. Once in the water they surfaced. Cora looked around for Rachael, finally spotted her still on the deck above. In a moment she joined them, preceded by a sealed container. Cora did not have to ask what it held.

  "Have to replace those modules," her daughter was complaining.

  Water geysered around them as three more massive black and white shapes exploded from the sea to join the first. The stern of the catamaran began to buckle under their combined weight.

  Cora tried to right herself in the confused water, saw a huge shape rushing at her. There was an instant of unavoidable, primeval panic before she recognized it. The shape dipped beneath her and she slid back until she could clutch the slick dorsal fin. Merced was right behind her. The moment they were securely seated, the whale turned and accelerated. She thought to switch on her translator.

  "Sorrry as the windds arre wwe to hawe taken so long, sorrry arre wwe thhat wwe had to abandonn youuuu."

  "Hello, Latehoht," she said weakly. "Never mind your timing. For some reason I just can't find it in my heart to criticize you."

  The five of them were deposited alongside the abandoned catcherfoil still anchored off the reef. Cora slipped off the wide, slick back as another huge blunt head surfaced near them. Thick ivory teeth gleamed in the sun.

  "Healthffullll?"

  "Healthful we are, Wenkoseemansa, and thank you."

  The whale disappeared, was soon replaced by his mate. Cora watched the Dantean scene taking place around the catamaran. "What about the?…"

  "Badd mmen on shhip arre in flight rrather thhan fight," Latehoht sang lustily. "Sit somme within the rreeff whherre wwe cannot go. Thhey arre fearrful and hidden. Thhey will trouble you not, thhey will not bothher you. Onn thhe shhip stand fewerr and fewerr. Only in its depths hidde somme like their afrraidful brrethrren inn the rreef. Thhey mayy yet comme out. Wwe will kill thhen only thhose necessarny. Did wwe wellll?"

  "Most well." Cora saw Sam offer Rachael a hand up the foil's boarding ladder. The girl disdained the offer, instead carefully handed up the crate containing her precious instrument.

  "Got to go nowww," Latehoht whistled. She nodded at her human friends, slapped the water once with her jaw, and dashed off to rejoin the fading battle.

  They stood by the stern of the badly damaged ship and stared incredulously as a few of Hazaribagh's team attempted to regain control. The orcas were so fast that the hapless crewmembers barely had time to take aim with their weapons. One or two of the whales were hit by the hypodermic darts and had to be kept afloat by their fellows, but for the most part the resistance was as ineffectual as it was sporadic. It is difficult to aim at something hidden beneath the surface of the sea, more so when that something emerges like a rocket straight toward you.

  Only one orca was badly wounded, by an explosive shell. The watchers near the reef could hear its cries for help via their headphone units. The fight shifted as the crew of the factory ship soon discovered that several tons of killer whale jumping at one's face inevitably had serious effects-on one's aim. Those still resisting retreated to the second deck, where the prodigious leaps of the orcas couldn't reach them.

  Hopes of driving off the attackers faded quickly for those on board. The moment the gunmen moved out of range, the orcas concentrated their assault on the ulterior of the twin hulls. Their attack had already sunk the second suprafoil. Now they pounded at the fibermetal hulls, working in relays. Eventually the constant pressure of many tons would breach one hull or the other and the factory ship, too, would sink.

  The transmitter behind the watchers buzzed for attention. Mataroreva moved to the battered cabin, acknowledged the signal.

  "Call them off!" a voice from the speaker pleaded. Cora recognized the anxious voice of Dewas Hazaribagh.

  "Call whom off?" Mataroreva replied, thoroughly enjoying their former captor's discomfort " 'Why should I give such obviously resourceful folk as yourselves a chance to escape?' " he added, mimicking the manager's former evaluation of their own status.

  "Call them off, I tell you! We'll do whatever you wish!"

  "Of course you will. You can't bring weapons to bear between the hulls unless you open the service bays—which would promptly fill up with large, unwelcome visitors. You're stuck, Hazaribagh. You'll last less than most once you're all in the water."

  "I will not beg for myself, but as for my people—"

  "Uh-huh." He turned to the railing. "Cora, you tell them."

  She leaned over the side, adjusted her mask to make certain she was speaking into her translator pickup. Several strange orcas waited in the water below. They looked up alertly when she spoke.

  "Tell your companions they've done well enough. Stop the attack." She looked back toward Sam.

  He addressed the transmitter. 'Throw all your weapons over the side, Hazaribagh. You can worry about salvaging them later." He pronounced the word "salvage" in a particularly unpleasant manner.

  Splashes began
immediately, dotting the surface around the assailed factory ship.

  "Fine," Mataroreva told his distant listeners. "Now all of you sit tight. I don't want to see anyone on deck. You can drink yourselves into a stupor, commiserate in groups, make love, do anything you want. But don't try to start your engines or I'll have you sunk. And once you're down in the water, I don't think I could keep control of my friends."

  "As you wish."

  Minutes later a cetacean call sounded near the bow. "Samm! Samm!" All whale voices sounded much alike, but this one's pitch and phrasing Cora had learned to recognize. The voice was that of a happy Latehoht.

  Mataroreva jogged out of the battered cabin, shouted a hasty "Take over!" and jumped over the side.

  Latehoht swam delighted circles around him and he around her. He kicked water in her face and she spit it playfully back at him. Wenkoseemansa floated lazily nearby.

  "Frriends comme behind ussss," he offered, noticing an intent Cora staring over the railing at the male-whale waterplay.

  "I guessed as much," she murmured. "I didn't think you'd return with only cetacean help. Sam worried that you might not have escaped." She watched as the subject of her thoughts let out a whoop. Latehoht had slipped her tail beneath him, and the gentle flip that resulted sent him soaring through the warm afternoon air.

  "What the hell happened?"

  "Doing werre wwe whhat Samm hadd asked us to, had requested of ourr timme and abilities. We watched the waters frromm fair out in the Deeep, frromm distant lookking-places.

  "Thhe Mad Ones whho kill swwam in silence. In grreaterr silence than thhat of any podd everr hawe I known, everr has any whale known. Knew thhey exactly whhat they werre about, she-frriend Corra. Knnew thhey beforehand whhat thhey would do. It wwas…" and he sounded terribly confused, as well he had a right to be, "… it wwas not a thhing to bee beelived. I would not beelieve so, hadd not I witnessed it myselffff.

  "Nothing thhey said, but camme thhey silent frrom all directions at onceee."

  "A coordinated attack. But coordinated by whom?" Merced muttered from nearby.

  "Neverr did wwe hearr thhem," Wenkoseemansa continued, "but instead felt at lasst the prressurre of thhem in the waterr, of manny comming frrom all dirrections. Could it thhus mean only one thing, could it therreby signify only one ewent forrthcoming. Chose wwe the seconds rremmaining to us to flee beforre wwe could bee encirrcled, forr in madness such as thhis even the Covenant could hawe been brroken, and wwe would then do neitherr ourrselves norr you any gooodddd."

  "I didn't think orcas were afraid of anything that lived in the sea," she replied.

  "Fearr wwe nothing wwe can underrstand, but thhis was a thhing not to be underrstood. It is not wrrong orr cowarrdly to fearr and flee insanityyy.

  "Fast as wwe did rrace, ourr passage was not unnoticed. Severral Mad Ones tunned frromm theirr courrse to chase us! Thhey werre Rights and thhink wwe one Humpback. And thhey chased us!" Astonishment filled his voice.

  "Twwo to one, and wwe would hawe turrned and fought, sizze notwithstanding. But therre werre sixx, and thhey did not act at all as thhe baleeen should. Faced werre wwe with suchh a horrrrible perrverrsion of naturral law, with events beyond ourr comprrehension, and with hundrreds of otherr Mad Ones nearrby, we deterrmined it best to find help for any thhat might surrvive. So gladddened arre wwe to find you well! Kneww wwe thhat if any would liwe, thhey would bee underr Samm's guidance.

  "Chhased us forr many leagues did the baleen, forr a grreat distance and timme thrrough the waterr. Neverr hawe I seeen such perrsistence of purrpose in a baleeen, let alone in severral acting togetherr. Outrran wwe thhem eventually. I believe had wwe turrned to the depths thhey would have followed and died behind uss. Had therre beeen among thhem Fins, wwe might hawe beeen caught, forr is therre in the sea little that can outrrun a Fin whale. But therre werre none nearr us and had wwe a good starrttttt." He paused and Cora could almost hear him thinking.

  "Sommething thhis is forr all the Cetacea to discuss, sommething thhis is thhat must be sent arround the worrld-ocean. Forr hawe I no doubt thhat had those Rights caught uss, thherre would hawe beeen a death-fight. A death-fight among Cetacea!" Mutters of disbelief swelled in Cora's earphones from the assembled orcas gathered around the suprafoil.

  "Has upset sommething all of cetacean society. Has perrverrted ourr peaceful meditations sommething of grreat evil. Sommething thrreatens the peace wwe hawe had forr morre than eight centurriessss."

  Cora recalled a theory first propounded by her colleague Merced. "Could the catodons be controlling the baleens, directing these attacks for reasons of their own?" She expected a quick denial, but hardly the thunderous outcry that arose.

  "No—neverr—it is not a thhing to be considerred!"

  When the outrage had quieted, Cora spoke patiently to Wenkoseemansa. "You've just admitted yourself that the attack was not a thing to be considered. Yet it happened."

  "Thhis is so-o-o," the orca confessed. "Yet sooonerr would I believe myself brreathing waterr than would I hold the catodons rresponsible forr such madnesses. Thhey arre closerr rrelatiwes to us thhan to the baleeen. Obstinate and stubborn! thhey arre, but not lacking in courrageeee."

  "I understand what you mean." Merced crowded closer to Cora. "You're saying that if the catodons wanted the towns destroyed, they'd be doing it themselves."

  "Thhat is so-o-o," Wenkoseemansa insisted. "Fair morre efficient and deadly would thhey bee thhan any baleeens could possibly bee. Would bee a lesser madness then thhan the otherr you say, forr no cetacean can control anotherrrrr."

  "Catodons don't think like us, or even like other whales," Dawn said from nearby. "I'd believe anything of them."

  "We've already learned a little about their indifference to mankind," Cora replied. "Destruction of a town would constitute interference of a sort they profess not to want. Destruction means notice, and they insisted they chose not to notice us."

  "Still," Vai'oire's sole survivor wondered aloud, "as your friend in the water just admitted, something has upset the balance of cetacean existence. Something has to be directing the baleens. I don't for a moment believe they're doing this of their own choice." She chewed her lower lip thoughtfully.

  "Could you tell," Cora asked, leaning over the side once more, "if anything was controlling the attackers?"

  "If so, it was not noticeable to uss," Wenko-seemansa confessed. "But swwift wwe fled the region of Insanity, flying fastest through the waterr. Ourr thoughts werre on brringing back assistance and on surrviving until wwe could do so. Might well wwe hawe missed such evidence as would prowe the contention."

  "If the catodons aren't involved," Cora mumbled, "and Hazaribagh's been telling the truth about simply following up on the destruction, then we're just about back to where we started: looking for some unknown, probably human, outside agency. Or some other off-world intelligence."

  "At least we know it begins with the baleens," Merced commented. "There's another possibility we have to dispose of first." He addressed Wenkoseemansa. "You called the attackers the 'Mad Ones.' Have there been many instances of mass cetacean insanity?" Cora wondered how that might translate into orca, but apparently Wenkoseemansa understood, because he answered readily enough.

  "Hawe happened such thhings. In the passt parrticular, in ancient timmes, whole podds would commit suicide, as did theirr ancestorrs in fearr of the genocidal harrpooon. The harrpooon was long passt, but the fearrs still lingerred. In ancient timmes men thhought such mass strrandings of whales due to disease or weatherr, not realizing the cause was despairr. Even so, in madness lies not the resourrces forr planning and carrying out such a vast, orrganizzed attackkkk."

  "I agree," Merced said. "Insanity could account for the attacks, but if the baleens are insane, then they can't organize well enough to mount those same attacks. Contradiction. Damn!"

  While Cora still felt no particular fondness for the little scientist, that didn't prevent her from sympathizing with him on the profession
al level. She fully shared his frustration. "At least we have a beginning now."

  A violent splash sounded beneath them. Wenkoseemansa was battering the water with his tail to get their attention.

  "Distant brrotherrs and sisterrs relay thhis newws: the neww hummans commeeee."

  "Distant?"

  "Fearred wwe much the rreturn of the Mad Ones," he explained. "Brrotherrs and sisterrs patrrol much distance away in watch forr thhem. But it is good newws thhey giwe nowww."

  Cora was angry that she hadn't thought to suggest such a lookout, consoled herself with the knowledge that her thoughts never took a military bent. Somewhere behind all this, she thought furiously, lay minds as cold as they were efficient. It was harder to believe them cetacean than human.

  Another vessel soon hove into sight: a long, sleek suprafoil. It was considerably larger than the ruined craft they waited on or the long-since sunken one that had carried them out from Mou'anui a short eternity ago.

  They made preparations to meet it, moving the injured catchership alongside the catamaran. None of Hazaribagh's crew appeared to challenge them. They remained huddled below, mindful of Mataroreva's threat to unleash the orca pack against them a last time.

  The four anxious researchers and single survivor waited on the empty deck of the factory ship to greet their rescuers.

  Moving quickly up the ladder and the first man on deck from the larger foil was Yu Hwoshien, not the least embarrassed at revealing most of his elderly form in a pair of swim briefs. His eyes swept the deck, noting the absence of any but the five survivors.

  Somehow the absence of clothing on an individual Cora had come to think of as the epitome of dignity was more shocking than expected. Divested of his black uniform of office, he was at once more and less human than he had seemed back on Mou'anui.

  A host of armed, grim men and women followed him onto the deck. Cora recognized none of them, but they greeted Sam with a mixture of relief and deference. He directed them across the ship. The number of peaceforcers was sizable. No doubt additional assistance had been brought in for this rescue from other sections of Cachalot.

 

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