The Whale Song Translation: A Voyage of Discovery To Neptune and Beyond

by Howard Steven Pines

  In one master stroke, he’d succeeded in eliminating all vestiges of Theodosius McPinsky’s legacy from the SoCalSci campus. The man’s irresponsible pronouncements had embarrassed the university and plagued him personally, forcing him to labor countless overtime hours as a damage-control specialist in order to stem the public’s outrage. From now on, it would be business as usual in the hallowed halls of his beloved university. He whistled a cheery tune on his stroll out to the parking lot.

  PATERNAL CONDOLENCES

  SoCalSci University, Los Angeles, California

  After the hearing, Dmitri returned to his office to pack his things. He felt both depressed and nostalgic. Years of lecture notes, publications, and mementos of trips to far-flung conferences had settled into every nook and cranny of the snug workspace. It felt more like a home than an office. Two hours later, after he’d combed through the stacks of memorabilia, he heard the mobile’s “dueling sitars” ringtone.

  “Dmitri, my boy. I just heard the news through the grapevine, and I want to express my condolences.”

  McPinsky’s paternal voice infused Dmitri with renewed hope. “Yes, we’ve been suspended, but I suppose it could have been worse. When you’ve announced the news of our discovery, maybe they’ll reinstate us. Are you close to a confirmation?”

  McPinsky’s prolonged silence unnerved him. “Professor, are you still there?”

  McPinsky took an audibly deep breath. “That’s the reason I called, son. The data has disappeared. There won’t be any confirmation.”

  Dmitri felt dizzy. “Tell me this isn’t happening.”

  “I’m afraid it’s true. All of the whale song files on my home and office PCs have been erased. It’s the same for the data here in our lab. It’s over.”

  Dmitri wanted to scream. “Is it Prescott? Or the Navy? Who else?”

  McPinsky’s tone was grave. “It’s probably all of the above and more. We’re up against something bigger than we can possibly cope with.”

  “But—”

  McPinsky interrupted him. “I should have arranged for tighter security.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “Maybe we can do another experiment next year?”

  “But I’ll have no job. I might even be in jail.”

  “I’ll do my absolute best to prevent that from happening and, if you’d like, I’m sure I can find you a position here at Ivy Tech.” McPinsky paused, apparently waiting for a response.

  Dmitri massaged his brow, fingers pressed against closed eyelids, his gloom filling the silence.

  “It’ll be like old times.” His mentor was clearly masking despair of his own. “Look, I know how you feel, Dmitri. My departure from SoCalSci left me devastated, feeling quite sorry for myself.”

  “That damned Prescott,” Dmitri yelled. In a contrite tone, he said, “Sorry, Professor.”

  “Yes, I raged about him. And the others. But then I did something that lifted my spirits. Coincidently, you have an opportunity to partake of the same salutary experience.”

  “What?”

  “I attended a lecture by my hero and spiritual mentor. Helped to chase the blues away.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “He was recognized at the age of seven by the monks of Khutan as the reincarnation of their spiritual leader.”

  “Ah, you mean Lama Dawa Cham. He’s here in L.A.?”

  “He’s appearing in the Grand Auditorium at Cal University on Saturday night.”

  “Professor, that’s a wonderful suggestion, but, under the circumstances, I’m just not in the mood.”

  “Dmitri, you’ve been like a son to me, and I can never thank you enough for the gift of this discovery. Please indulge me in a bit of fatherly advice.”

  “Yes.” Dmitri could barely speak. McPinsky’s words meant the world to him.

  “Just trust me. Lama Dawa Cham is a very wise man with an uplifting message. I’ve made the arrangements for you, Greg, and your students. Your tickets will be waiting at the will-call booth.”

  “Yes, Professor. I’ll think about it.”

  “Now I’ve got to go. It’s my duty to inform Gorman and his team about what’s happened to the data.”

  “Oh, God,” replied Dmitri. “He’ll be devastated. Another dead humpback washed ashore in Maui last weekend. I should contact Greg, Seema, and Andrew.”

  “I’m so sorry this happened,” replied McPinsky.

  “Like you said, it’s just the few of us against an army of resistance. You’d better make that phone call.”

  * * *

  After he’d hung up, McPinsky felt guilty about the half-truths he’d told Dmitri. He was particularly unnerved by Dmitri’s strong reaction, the pain in his voice. Under the circumstances, however, there had been no other choice. He’d had to sound convincing, as his phone was undoubtedly bugged. And he needed to buy a bit more time so he could be of use. For years, he and Dmitri had shared a unique bond, almost like father and son. He desperately wanted to help him through this ordeal. And it might be possible. He had an idea.

  HIGH-TECH SATORI

  California University Grand Auditorium, Los Angeles, California—Saturday night

  “What the hell are we doing here? As much as I respect Professor McPinsky, I’m no fan of swamis and gurus.”

  Greg’s somber assessment reflected Dmitri’s own dark mood. Craning his neck for a panoramic view of California University’s Grand Auditorium, Dmitri saw the steady stream of Lama Dawa Cham devotees spilling down the aisles and settling into the auditorium’s two thousand seats.

  Andrew tapped Dmitri on the shoulder. “Hey boss, how about the four of us go bowling after the show? There’s an alley in the student center.”

  “Andrew, you’re so inappropriate.” Dmitri felt the sadness in Seema’s flat voice.

  “It’s okay, Seema,” said Dmitri. “We could all do with a bit of distraction. These are cool seats, aren’t they?”

  Greg grimaced. “Maybe for a Laker game.”

  Andrew’s face brightened. “You’re not gonna believe it, but I thought I saw a familiar face.”

  Absentmindedly, Dmitri scanned the crowd. “I don’t see anyone. Who was it?”

  Andrew appeared to survey the room, but he shook his head. “Sorry, I must have been mistaken. Hey look.” He pointed at the stage. “That man in the . . . that’s Mitchell Gyre.”

  “You’re right,” declared Seema, staring through opera glasses. “And Yumi Hermann is beside him.” She sounded excited.

  “What did you expect.” Greg frowned. “This is Hollywood, and Lama Dawa Cham has a worldwide following of celebrity groupies.”

  Despite Greg’s caustic tone, Dmitri had to admit it was an ideal setting for a celebrity lecture. An array of crystalline chandeliers glistened overhead. Intense spotlights hung from the ceiling, directly above the center of the large stage, illuminating a pair of oversized and sumptuously appointed golden velour chairs. Directly behind them, attached by thin cables to the rafters in the ceiling, hung the spectacularly oversized red, white, and yellow flag of Khutan, also known as the “thunder-dragon” flag for its depiction of a fierce, white dragon.

  They’d decided to dress up for the occasion: the gentlemen attired in the same suits and ties they’d worn for the disciplinary hearing, and Seema wrapped appropriately in a stunning floral-blue, formal sari.

  Once again, Andrew tapped his boss on the shoulder and directed Dmitri’s gaze down to the end of their row. “Look who’s coming.”

  “My God, you were right!” exclaimed Dmitri.

  “I told you so.”

  Dmitri waved at the couple awkwardly tiptoeing toward them. “Hey, guys, fancy meeting you here.” Once she’d navigated through the gauntlet of feet of those already seated, Melanie drifted into Dmitri’s outstretched arms. After he’d planted a lingering kiss on her lips, he turned to Chris Gorman and asked, “So who’s the mastermind behind this chance encounter?”

  “It was Professor McPinsky�
�s idea,” replied Gorman, exchanging handshakes with Greg and Andrew. “He told me Lama Dawa Cham might have something to say about the humpback deaths in Maui. He also said that two airline tickets were waiting at the airport, that I should bring Melanie along to cheer you up, and that he owed us for failing to prevent the disappearance of the data.”

  “Disappearance, my foot,” muttered Greg. “Grand larceny is more accurate.”

  Melanie squeezed Dmitri’s hand and briefly turned to Greg. “Of course I agreed to come along. I’m so sorry to hear about your suspensions.”

  Dmitri couldn’t help but to smile. “To put it mildly, I’m very happy you’re here.”

  She pulled him closer and whispered into his ear.

  “Where’s Lila?” Seema sounded disappointed.

  Melanie sighed. “Lila has the flu. Otherwise she’d be here. By the way, Seema, you look gorgeous.”

  “She’s a vision.” Andrew, for a change, sounded dead serious as he assessed Seema’s jewelry-accented ensemble with an art-patron’s appreciative eye.

  “And look at you guys, so sartorially splendid.” Melanie brushed a finger across Dmitri’s silk tie. “Très chic.”

  “Merci. Et toi aussi,” replied Dmitri, with a smile. “It’s a shame about Lila, though. We’re one big family now.”

  “She’d have enjoyed Lama Dawa Cham,” said Andrew. “We’re sitting so close. I’ll get to see the color of His Holiness’s eyes.”

  Given the short notice and the popularity of the event, Dmitri wondered how his mentor had come by six contiguous prime-location seats. The first few rows were reserved for California University faculty and dignitaries. Most were engaged in animated conversations. Every seat seemed to be filled.

  Dmitri clasped Melanie’s hands. “Maybe McPinsky was right. I’m enjoying myself more than I thought I would, present company included, of course.”

  When the lights in the hall blinked twice, Greg said, “Okay, folks. For whatever it’s worth, the show’s about to begin.”

  They sat down sequentially from left to right: Andrew, Seema, Melanie, Dmitri, Greg, and Chris. The teammates chatted until the main lights in the chamber were dimmed. All conversations ceased. Then, without any fanfare, the spiritual leader of Khutan, Lama Dawa Cham, walked humbly across the stage and removed both sandals. In one motion, he bowed to the audience and coiled into a cross-legged pose as he sat upon one of the chairs. Dmitri was fascinated by the contrast of his bare-shouldered saffron robe and his contemporary, black designer-frame glasses—a spiritual figure adapted to modern times.

  “So who’s the surprise guest?” whispered Greg, sitting to Dmitri’s right.

  “What do you mean?” Dmitri whispered back.

  “The empty chair. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  “Nah, can’t be.”

  Lama Dawa Cham closed his eyes, clasped both hands together, and uttered a silent prayer. The audience grew respectfully hushed. As his lids fluttered open, a beatific smile adorned his face. He raised both arms in ceremonious greeting.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming tonight. I know you are expecting me to discuss the subject of compassion. However, there’s been a change of program. Like a bolt from the blue, I’m here to tell you that something truly wonderful has happened.”

  The sounds of many voices combined as one, like the low murmur of a forest of pines fanned by a breeze. He waited for the sound to subside, his shaved head glistening in the stage lights.

  “Earlier this week, I received an urgent message from a dear friend, a distinguished scientist. He informed me of a great discovery that has been confirmed beyond all conjecture and controversy.” Greg tapped Dmitri on the leg. “You’ll soon see for yourselves.”

  Lama Dawa Cham paused to scrutinize the audience. When he resumed, Dmitri heard his mesmerizing British-Asian-accented voice sounding much more subdued, almost reverential. “The human race is no longer alone. The second sun of consciousness has finally been discovered. It will illuminate all of humanity’s future generations so that we can extricate ourselves from the shadows of ignorance.”

  While the audience struggled to process his revelatory message, silence prevailed. Some turned to gaze into the eyes of their neighbor, searching for a response. Many appeared dazed. Dmitri clasped Melanie’s hands and felt the mingling of their throbbing pulses.

  “Before I say more,” Lama Dawa Cham continued, “I’d like to introduce my friend. He will describe the technical details of this transformative discovery. Please welcome the distinguished Ivy Tech professor, Theodosius McPinsky.”

  The bulky McPinsky ambled onto the stage, attired in an ill-fitting, grey suit and his trademark vest. The audience welcomed him with a warm round of applause. Dmitri was surprised to see his distinguished mentor shoeless in deference to the holy ground he now occupied. He was relieved to observe that McPinsky’s paisley socks were respectfully without holes. Lama Dawa Cham rose from his chair to lead the assembly in a standing ovation. Squeals of joy abounded from the Research in Paradise team.

  “Unbelievable!” exclaimed Andrew, “McPinsky comes through big-time once again!”

  “You’re so right.” Dmitri’s face glowed with delight. “By orchestrating this joint appearance with Lama Dawa Cham, he’s literally broken the back of the connivance between Prescott and his goon squad. I think we’re gonna be ok.”

  Seema sighed. “Thank God.”

  Dmitri gazed at Melanie, her face luminescent. “McPinsky must have recovered the lost data he needed to confirm our discoveries.”

  “Were you aware your mentor was a friend of Lama Dawa Cham?” she asked.

  “I had absolutely no idea. A good thing too, else I might have been intimidated by his very presence.”

  As the applause continued, Greg leaned forward to stare at Dmitri’s lips, not wanting to miss any remarks. “It’s fascinating how we’re conditioned to respond to the persona of fame peddled in the media,” said Greg. “I’ll bet if Lama Dawa Cham was an anonymous dinner party guest, many would judge him simply as an eccentric character.”

  No one in their group spoke until Seema said, “But Professor McPinsky looks like he really belongs on the same stage with His Holiness.”

  The renowned scientist and the august holy man remained standing with their hands clasped. They gestured for silence, and the energy in the room was instantly quenched. Lama Dawa Cham resumed. “For the past ten years, Professor McPinsky and I have shared a special bond forged by an ongoing dialogue about the human condition. We first met at the World Conference on Cosmology and Consciousness, where we all grappled with humanity’s existential crises, the spiritual vacuum that is extinguishing the life force from our souls. Since nature abhors a vacuum, it has attracted all of mankind’s spurious attempts to fill it, which is why our species is still grasping for stability and meaning. At that conference, I became intrigued by the Professor’s proposals for a solution: his bold challenge to the scientific community to break the interspecies communication barrier and his Unified Field Information Theory.

  “The sage professor is with us tonight to explain how his protégé’s research team has responded to the McPinsky Challenge with a millennial discovery.” He paused to glance at McPinsky, then turned back to face the audience. “Unfortunately, because certain elements in our society cannot cope with the enormity of this breakthrough, these heroes were imprisoned and their data illegally confiscated. Although they are temporarily free on bail, they face serious criminal prosecution. I personally beseech the authorities to drop the unjust charges against these special ones. They have an extraordinary story to tell us. So that you will know them for who they are, I have invited them here tonight.” He pointed in their general direction. “I’d like them to stand and accept your greeting.”

  Dmitri heard Lama Dawa Cham’s words but could not respond, paralyzed by disbelief. He glanced at his colleagues. No one moved. Professor McPinsky stood, waved in their direction, and flapp
ed his outstretched arms. “Dmitri, everyone with you, please rise so we can honor you.”

  Heads turned their way and those nearest urged them on. Andrew popped up first, sporting a huge grin and waving toward the stage. One by one, the members of the Research in Paradise team joined him in a group salute to the professor and the guru. Scattered applause gained momentum, intensifying when Lama Dawa Cham clapped his hands above his head.

  As Dmitri turned to acknowledge the approbation, he felt chills. In his entire life, he’d never imagined the possibility of such a transcendent moment. He thought about his father, the ice cream man and the maker of his childhood dreams. In spirit, Michael Dmitri was with him now. Dmitri’s mentor and father figure stood on the stage. In sharp contrast to his earlier despair, he now wondered how life could get any better. He looked at Melanie and felt great tenderness. Seeing tears rolling down her cheeks, he turned and hugged her.

  When Lama Dawa Cham and McPinsky settled into their chairs, the audience followed suit, and Greg turned to Dmitri. “Worth the price of admission?”

  “Most definitely,” he replied, still dazed by it all. “Now we can enjoy the rest of the presentation.”

  Once the excitement had waned, Lama Dawa Cham resumed. “Fellow members of the human race . . . abandon all of your preconceptions and prepare yourselves for a quantum leap in earth consciousness, for we are blessed by the dawn of the second sun.” The tone of Lama Dawa Cham’s voice struck a delicate balance between solemnity and passion. “It was an imaginative leap of faith by a man of science that made this remarkable discovery possible. I would now like Professor McPinsky to explain the details of the marvelous event.”