More crewmembers arrived, most of whom he had barely met. A few others would not attend, as they were needed to run the ship. This was just as well, as it was doubtful that the lab could hold any more. People had been talking among themselves but now became silent.
The Captain looked up, slowly perused the room and began to speak.
“Don’t want this meeting any longer than necessary. First, an update. Two or probably three US Navy vessels are going to reach us within the hour to take off the news team. Jack Ripler is also leaving us.”
There was a murmur in the room and someone asked, “What happened to Jack, anyway?”
“A nervous breakdown, perhaps with some kind of clinical hysteria. Becka staying with him now. Been given a sedative. Expect most of you heard the details of what happened in the corridor.”
Some of the crew looked at Matthew. He held their gaze until they eventually looked away.
Mary Sims looked around anxiously and spoke. “‘Hysteria’ might be too strong. However, it may be best if Jack gets some rest back home. He has a sister north of Seattle, and we will contact her soon, I am sure, and he could—”
The door flew open.
“Oh no, you don’t!” Ripler yelled, entering like an actor taking center stage. “Not getting rid of me as easily as that, I’m happy to inform you.” He stood facing them, the picture of good health and abundant vitality. Becka was nowhere in sight.
“Way off the mark, Jack,” Thorssen said.
“No, sir, you are. And now, enough.” He was no longer yelling, but still spoke forcefully. “It is my sad duty to inform you all that there will be a call shortly relieving the Captain of his command. We hope this can be accomplished without incident, as that would be in everyone’s best interest. That’s right,” he said, looking around at the shocked faces lining the room. “This shoddy perpetration has been exposed.”
“But,” Mary said, “you seemed so…distraught before…”
“I was, to put it mildly. I know I lost it for a while, and I’m sorry for the way I acted. Please forgive me, all of you, but it was because…” He gestured toward Thorssen. “They are responsible for the death of one whale and, I now have reason to believe, at least several more. Yes. Why? So they could fake the ‘displacement’ thing. Didn’t care what they had to do to get more funding. Mister Amati was their unwitting stooge.”
He stared at Matthew, who felt almost mesmerized by Ripler’s rhetoric.
“You were used, Matthew, right from the beginning. They counted on your inexperience but got careless and made a few crucial mistakes.” He addressed the group. “We now have irrefutable proof. It’s close to what I surmised already but with a few further twists that I couldn’t have imagined. In addition, we have just received confirmation that Doctor Bell is being ‘asked’ to resign as Director of the Point. The reality is that he’s being forced to leave, in disgrace.”
Ripler now directed his piecing gaze at Martin Bell’s daughter.
“I’m sorry, Penny, I really am. Your father did groundbreaking work once and I will always remember him for that. In spite of what you might believe, exposing this whole shabby affair has given me no pleasure. As much as possible, we’ll try to keep this out of the media, but that won’t be easy, thanks to the conspirators’ efforts to make this a revenue spinning story.”
“I don’t understand,” Emory said. He was crying. So were Malcolm and several others. Chiffrey looked perplexed, but seemed content to just watch what was becoming a sordid drama unfold.
Ripler held up his hand and nodded. “I know this is all difficult to hear. I will explain the details shortly. A bizarre tale, in the fullest sense of the word, and they came so close to pulling it off.”
Ripler looked increasingly relaxed and confident. His voice had become quieter. He spoke sincerely and with compassion. Everyone was riveted by his revelations.
“I’m also sorry to say that at least two other people here were in on this, and you know who you are,” Ripler continued. “The rest of you, like Matthew, were flimflammed. Don’t feel bad.”
“Are you sure about all this?” Chiffrey finally asked.
“Absolutely and I can prove everything. It was a clever connivance, without doubt. How all this impacts your investigation here I will leave up to you, but my guess is you will have much to reconsider. And in spite of everything, I will defend Matthew when the time comes.”
Ripler glanced behind at the sound of steps and smiled as Becka ran in. She stopped short, obviously upset, and looked at Thorssen. He was not denying anything, but just looked weary. A bitter taste welled up in the back of Matthew’s throat, and behind it was anger, yet somehow he could find no answer or words to Ripler’s accusations.
“You sick twisted creep!” Penny yelled. “I don’t believe a word you’re saying.” She scanned the room as if waiting for someone to challenge her.
Ripler closed his eyes and gently shook his head. “I am sorry. I truly wish that all of this had never happened. Becka can confirm every word I have said.” Becka looked at Penny helplessly, as if pleading forgiveness.
No one else spoke. The room was as silent as a tomb until Dirk burst in, almost knocking Becka over. He jumped up and down like a little child.
“They’ve turned around,” he shouted. “The whales, they’re circling all around us, going crazy! The Navy ships are coming and—”
Everyone in the room, but one, started for the door without hearing the rest. Matthew was swept along with Penny beside him, although she seemed more to be riding the current of people than a part of it. He twisted around to see Thorssen, the only man left in the lab. A hint of a smile played on his face like a lonely sun break.
Dirk had not been exaggerating. The whales—more than fifty—were swimming in a circle around the Valentina and they were moving fast, sprinting and leaping and twisting. Astern, the Navy cruiser and what looked like the salvage vessel were only a couple of kilometers away and pulling up fast. Matthew looked up to the bridge just in time to see the Captain enter it through the outside hatchway. The pitch of the engines dropped as they were powered down, and soon the ship was coasting.
“Hey!” yelled Dirk, pointing toward the bow. Lorraine Hart had climbed over the railing and was hanging by an arm and a leg, laughing, waving, yelling. Matthew strained to make out what she was saying, but then his heart almost stopped. Immediately below the dangling Lorraine, a large whale suddenly emerged, upright and nearly a third of the way out of the water. There was a white blaze on her forehead, and the rest of her was a vivid magenta shot through with veins of copper green.
Dirk ran by and Matthew instinctively followed.
“What happened?” Matthew said, as they dashed up to the bow. “You were supposed to be keeping Lorraine out of trouble.”
“I saw the whales out the porthole!” Dirk said. “Lorraine seemed okay, but when I turned back, she was gone. God, look at the color. I—Hey, Lorraine! Stop! No!”
Her arm slipped, and she was now hanging by only her leg. Dirk reached her, stretched over and grabbed an arm. Matthew strained but could not reach the other one.
“Pull her up a little, Dirk!”
Dirk grimaced, flexed, and lifted, closing the distance just enough that Matthew could clasp Lorraine’s free hand.
“Lorraine!” Dirk yelled, “We need to get you back up.”
She laughed. “Hey, stop! That tickles!”
Matthew nodded to Dirk. “Now!”
They both lifted, and heaved her up over the railing. She landed on top of Dirk, knocking him to the deck. He looked more than just stunned.
“You fell,” Lorraine said. Then she whispered something in Dirk’s ear.
Matthew couldn’t hear, but he didn’t care. The whales had become motionless in the water, their immense heads pointing up like chess pieces. They had not only aligned themselves with the lead whale, but were facing astern, in the direction of the approaching ships. At the speed they were making, the Nav
y would be alongside in minutes.
Dirk groaned and clutched his stomach with both hands.
A pressure wave hit Matthew at the same moment, and he recognized it instantly as the same sensation that had hit him on the Eva Shay. He didn’t fight it this time and it did not affect him seriously.
“No, I can’t!” a voice cried behind him.
It was Ripler. He stared at Matthew, then at the whales, and screamed, “No! I can’t! Waaaaait!”
Ripler’s legs seemed to disappear as he crumpled, first to his knees, then onto his arms. He struggled to keep himself from total collapse, but finally pitched over to one side and curled up completely, and the look on his face was that of a man whose world had been swept away, like so much trash, by the tide.
Suddenly the whales were swimming again, round and around, slowly then faster, churning the sea into a white fizzling froth. As Matthew ran to the video array to see if it was on, the whales turned flukes up and plunged under as one. Another pressure wave hit him, stronger this time. He grabbed the railing to stop his fall and managed to keep looking over the side. The foam was already breaking up and the surface soon looked as if the whales had never been there.
They were gone.
Dirk and Lorraine had fallen asleep in each other’s arms, like entwined lovers. Toward the stern, most of the other crewmembers lay sprawled on the deck. Only one person was standing.
Penny.
She turned toward Matthew, seemingly unaffected. Her whole face, lit up by those impossibly green eyes, was one great shining smile.
“Well, that was fun,” she called to him. “Let’s do it again. What? Why is everyone sprawled out like sick cats?”
He walked back to her, still a little unsteady. “You didn’t feel it?”
“Yes, a brief tingle up my spine, pleasant such as it was, but…”
There had a slightly perplexed look as she turned and walked away, as if she’d suddenly remembered something. Or forgotten.
He didn’t go after her, but instead started back toward the bridge. Along the way, he found Lieutenant Chiffrey sitting on a crate, a hand resting on each knee, eyes closed, like a carved Buddha. He slowly opened his eyes, got up, and walked by Matthew as if he were not there.
Matthew climbed the steps to the bridge, and waited a moment at the hatchway. From the radio came the sound of a low static with an odd rhythm. It continued for a few seconds, then ceased. Malcolm and Emory were on the floor, slumped together against a console, their eyes closed. Asleep. The Captain was still on his feet, but he was looking up, not ahead. When he noticed Matthew, he motioned toward the screen they used to track Lefty. The familiar blip from the tracking device was dead center.
“She’s under us?”
“The tag only works on the surface,” Thorssen said.
“So where…?”
Then he saw it, resting on the flooring plates of the bridge, directly in the middle. Matthew bent down and tentatively reached out to touch what could only be Lefty’s transceiver. The orange plastic casing was warm, almost hot. He gave it a push, but it would not budge. The casing had partly dissolved into the metal deck plates and was spread out a few inches on all sides, like butter melting in a skillet. But it wasn’t a liquid, it was a mass of tiny fibers, dividing and branching like roots, a maze of intricate patterns that almost seemed to move. They were moving!
The Captain seemed oddly unconcerned. Before Matthew could say anything, Lieutenant Chiffrey entered the room, noticeably pale, holding his sat-phone. He looked at Matthew, at Thorssen, and then out across the sea. The Navy cruiser and salvage ship were drifting slowly past them.
“Trouble?” Thorssen said to Chiffrey, but it wasn’t really a question.
“Total loss of power. The props just…”
Chiffrey noticed the transceiver and bent down like a supplicant. The plastic case had spread a little more into the deck plates. He reached his hand out toward the roots, just as Matthew had, but suddenly stopped when he saw the tiny movements.
He looked up. “What in God’s name?” The question was branded on his face as if it would always be there.
The Captain bent down on one knee and put his hand gently on Chiffrey’s shoulder. “The right thing to ask, maybe, but who among us could bear the answer?”
CHAPTER 23
Matthew left the bridge and walked back to Penny’s cabin, and with every footfall it seemed that he was stepping out of the world. Now he sat on the bunk, alone, his back resting gently on the bulkhead, feeling as if he could sit there forever.
Something began to play in him…
A breath drawn deep in the belly makes its way to every cell, hums with a song like a whisper and reverberates with all the music of light and darkness. The song sweeps into every dingy corner and, as it does, all shadows are vanquished. A long neglected room, packed to the ceiling with dusty papers, broken tools, and heaps of ill-fitting clothes, is at last picked up, its contents sorted, all together, one thing after another. What does not belong draws apart and fades to nothing. What remains is laid away to wait, there if needed, but no longer serving as the bricks and mortar of a self-made prison.
In that moment, what he desires most could be his forever if he can lose the need to name it….
“Never mistake the truth for what people make of it.”
– Captain Andrew Thorssen
CHAPTER 24
A face gazed back at the diver through his mask.
He was under the stern of the disabled Navy cruiser, sent down to inspect the damage. The propellers were gone, leaving only the ends of the massive steel drive shafts, and it was on the perfectly polished end of one that the diver saw a mirrored face.
The hull drifted in the wind and, as it turned, sunlight fell on the shaft and dazzled the diver’s eyes. All the colors that ever were and would be, colors he had never seen, danced before his eyes. He gave himself up to their silent rapture and the need for anything more left him forever….
CHAPTER 25
The formerly dazed crewmembers had now fully revived, and wandered around the decks laughing and hugging each other, all the while grinning ecstatically like idiot saints. The exception was Ripler, who had been heavily sedated and placed under the watchful eye of Mary Sims in the infirmary. He was in the bed recently vacated by Daryl, the TV cameraman, who had unaccountably snapped out of his withdrawal the instant the whales had vanished. Daryl was now in his own state of bliss and insisted on thanking everyone he met over and over, sometimes falling on his knees to kiss their feet.
Penny tried to talk with some of the students, but when she asked why they seemed so elated, they somehow couldn’t explain it to her in a way that made sense. Their euphoria eventually tired her, and she retreated to the fantail. She stood there now, gazing at the disabled Navy vessels lazing in the afternoon sun like tired suburbanites in their pools. Some divers had gone down not long ago, but a recently arrived frigate now blocked the view.
The Captain walked up behind her, his surprisingly light footsteps giving him away. She turned to him with a smile. “You see the divers a while ago?”
He brought his binoculars up to his eyes and nodded. “Chiffrey’s been in direct contact with the captain of the salvage vessel. Was told that their propellers are gone, same with the other ship. Just sheared off, no explanation. Happened when they closed on us, just before the whales left.”
“Left? More like vanished.”
He shook his head as if remembering the impossibility of it and gazed out at the Navy ships. “They’ve rigged sea anchors, so they’re okay for now. Tugs are on the way and we’re standing by just in case.” He smiled. “Doubt if they’ll ask.”
She had known Andrew Thorssen almost as long as her father. Even when she was a small child, he had always spoken to her in this direct and plain way, had always included her in whatever was going on as an equal. There was probably no one on earth she trusted more.
“Andrew, they’re just not going to
believe that two ships could become disabled at the same time by accident.”
“Can’t blame them for wanting answers. Looks like their asking starts now.”
Lieutenant Chiffrey came around a bulkhead and ambled up in his usual relaxed way, an innocent smile at home again on his face. His earlier loss of aplomb was evidently only temporary.
“I believe we have a deal,” he said. “You’ll both get a high level of security clearance. Matthew as well.”
“Sounds like a field commission,” Penny said.
“No, but it will do the job. And we’ll work something out with the rest of the crew as well. I convinced the brass that we need you all. After what happened to the cruiser and the salvage vessel, they believed me.”
He glanced over at the disabled ships. “They don’t know why they lost their props, but I pointed out that the Valentina had no problems. Or at least mechanical ones. You’re also set up well for an investigation, you have the gear, the facility, some talented people. You’ll have backup, don’t worry. Got some stuff for you to sign.”
He took some large envelopes from his briefcase and handed them out. “Any questions, let me know. You can give this one to Matthew, thanks. The sooner we get this out of the way, the better. A fait accompli. Got to tell you again it took some persuasion, but they understand now that your ship and crew are an asset best left as is.”
“So we’re your Judas goat,” Penny said. “Bait.”
Far From The Sea We Know Page 16
