by Lauren Child
‘And how many years have you been diving in those waters?’ asked another.
‘Seven,’ said Kekoa. ‘But I’ve been in Hawaii the last couple of months.’
‘Yet you yourself have heard nothing?’ said the first agent. ‘Even since you got back?’
‘No,’ said Kekoa.
A rippled whisper went through the audience.
‘So have you considered that these accounts could all be bogus? I mean some of the people who reported it are just little kids,’ continued the first agent.
‘Yes,’ said Kekoa. ‘But I consider it unwise to disregard them just because I, just because you, have no personal experience of them.’
Ruby couldn’t agree more strongly with this statement. There were people who made wild claims about spotting aliens and spacecraft, and there were other people who claimed that this was nonsense and aliens and spacecraft didn’t exist, but either way what you had to accept was that these people had seen something. RULE 5: REMEMBER, THERE IS MORE TO LEARN THAN YOU CAN EVER KNOW.
‘In conclusion,’ said LB, stepping back in front of the screen so the smiling face of Danny Fink Junior was projected across her white suit, ‘I want this case wrapped up all neat and tidy AS…’ she rapped the perspex file with her fountain pen, ‘AP.’ She couldn’t have looked more serious.
‘One of our agents is dead. Spectrum need to know if it was foul play or just plain bad luck. The coastguard need to know if all this disruption to the cargo shipping is incompetence or something a lot more serious. The fishing industry need to know where all the fish have gone. I want to know if I have a team smart enough to give me some answers. I don’t get the right ones and I’m not happy; I’m not happy and some of you are going to have to take a walk.’
‘Yikes,’ whispered Ruby. ‘What’s LB like when she’s unhappy, I mean really unhappy?’
‘You don’t want to see it,’ said Hitch.
Ruby was glad she had taken Hitch’s advice and zipped her jacket up. LB was in one very bad mood.
Chapter 12.
Consequences
THE SUN WAS ALREADY COMING UP by the time Hitch and Ruby turned the corner into Cedarwood Drive.
The discussion had gone on well into the early hours, and it was almost time for Ruby to be up and ready for school. The two of them sat at the table and, over eggs and toast and maple syrup, discussed the Spectrum briefing.
‘So what thoughts are jangling in that teenage mind of yours kid?’ asked Hitch, pouring coffee, his fifth of the day.
Ruby sucked hard on the curly straw that stuck out of her peach and cranberry juice blend. When the glass was emptied and the straw had begun to make an ill-mannered gurgling sound, she looked up.
‘Huh? You say something?’
‘You clean your ears out lately kid? I was saying, do you believe Trilby’s death was accidental?’
‘Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t,’ said Ruby. ‘The question is, do I think the marine activity and the confused shipping are connected to his death?’
‘That’s the question?’ said Hitch.
‘Yes. I think it could be a mistake to assume that they are, but on the other hand one thing could be triggering the other. What if there is one thing going on, which is man-made, and another that is a consequence of the man-made?’
‘So… connected but not intentionally?’ said Hitch.
‘Yeah, let’s say someone is interfering with the shipping radar and signals somehow, perhaps with a low-frequency signal, a sound to block sound. The idea being to disrupt the shipping, I guess, but I don’t know why. Anyway, this in turn is sending the sealife crazy, which results in Trilby getting killed, for example by some electric eel thing. The seagulls coming inland en masse, dolphins swimming into the harbour – all because of sound.’
Hitch nodded. ‘It’s certainly a theory. I have no idea if it’s a good one, but it’s a theory.’
‘It could mean that Trilby’s death, though accidental, was actually the consequence of something bigger,’ said Ruby. ‘Something sinister. So I guess what I am suggesting is, yes, in a way his death could be an accident, nothing sinister. But in a way it perhaps wasn’t and is.’
Hitch raised an eyebrow. ‘I’m barely following.’
Ruby looked at him like he was a few blocks short of a load.
‘Maybe you need another cup of coffee or three,’ she said.
‘Maybe.’ He took another slurp. ‘And the whispering?’
‘I don’t know.’ She was thinking, trying to tunnel down to some lost thought, but whatever it was, was lurking deep in the furthest depths of her mind and she could not reach it so she just said, ‘Could be entirely imagined of course.’
‘Yes,’ said Hitch. ‘One person says they’ve heard something – then a whole lot more people imagine that they’ve heard the same thing.’
‘Yeah, happens all the time,’ said Ruby, nodding. ‘People are very suggestible.’
‘It’s true,’ said Hitch. ‘I mean if I start mentioning the words jelly and donut, do you find yourself kind of yearning for one?’
Ruby gave him a look. ‘You got one?’
He shook his head. ‘So what do you think – did those people hear the whispering or not?’ asked Hitch. ‘That little Redfort brain must be thinking something. You have any kind of gut feeling on this?’
Ruby looked at him, straight in the eye. ‘My brain is telling me I should be asleep, but my stomach is telling me that I sure could do with a jelly donut and a glass of banana milk.’
‘Well, let’s make it happen kid.’
Mrs Gruemeister’s dog
Pookie was barking…
In fact he had been barking for quite some time, but everyone aboard had chosen to ignore him, it being 5.46am.
‘Probably seagulls,’ murmured Mr Gruemeister, pulling the blankets over his head. ‘That dog will bark at any little thing.’
‘I’ve tried my darnedest to train him,’ sighed Mrs Gruemeister. ‘Only bark at intruders, that’s what I taught him, but he doesn’t listen.’
In cabin 4A, Brant Redfort sat up in bed, yawned and rubbed his eyes. He switched on the radio, but to his great disappointment the only station he could get any reception on was one playing the most awful music. In fact he wondered to himself if it was music at all.
‘What is that dreadful noise?’ moaned Sabina. ‘Sounds like violins having the most vivid of disagreements.’
Brant switched it off in disgust. He had been looking for a pleasant sound to block out the barking dog, but it wasn’t going to happen.
‘I can’t take much more of this yapping,’ he said. ‘How about an early breakfast up on deck honey?’
‘Good idea Brant. That bow-wow is beginning to give me the most dreadful headache. Honestly, you’d think they would have raised him better. Can you imagine if Ruby yelped like that?’
‘Well, no honey, but then she isn’t a dog.’
‘But you know what I mean Brant.’
‘Sure I do honey; Ruby is a far better daughter than Pookie would ever be.’
At that moment there was a large thud on deck, followed by more thuds, a yelp and a heavy splash. The barking stopped. Sabina and Brant looked at each other for a split second before struggling into clothes and hurrying towards the noise.
That’s when the screaming began.
Chapter 13.
POOR CLANCY – IF ONLY HE HAD KNOWN what was in store for him that day, he doubtless wouldn’t have made it out of bed. Morning class was interrupted by an in-person announcement from Coach Newhart.
It seemed that the whole of the grade 9 swim team had gone down with mollusc poisoning at last night’s clambake – except for Denning Minkle who was allergic to seafood. The doctor had advised that no one take part in the swimathon for fear of weak limbs and consequent drowning.
Coach Newhart wasn’t to be defeated by this alarming news – Coach Newhart was rarely defeated by anything. To Coach Newhart, this was a challenge, and a coa
ch’s job was about nothing if not challenges. So grade 9 were all getting up close and personal with their latrines – he still had grade 8 and they looked to be fighting fit, a bit weedy perhaps, but no one was throwing up.
‘So can I count on all o’ youse for the Twinford swimathon?’ bellowed Coach Newhart. ‘I am determined that this year we will beat Branwell High.’
Clancy tried to make himself very small and very invisible, but it didn’t work.
‘Crew! I’m including you in this. I want you out in that bay, front and centre, swimming as if your life depended on it.’
Clancy had a premonition that it probably would. The idea of getting in that ocean scared the living daylights out of him, but then at this precise moment, so did Coach Newhart – Coach Newhart was not a man one said no to. No siree.
‘So Crew, you gonna be there?’
Clancy nodded his head. But that wasn’t good enough for Coach Newhart.
‘I can’t hear you sonny.’
‘Sir, yes sir,’ shouted Clancy, like he was on a parade ground.
‘That’s more like it,’ said the coach, nodding. Then he turned to Ruby. ‘And you Redfort. I won’t be accepting a note from the Governor this time. Everyone swims. And that includes you.’
‘OK,’ said Ruby, shrugging. She really didn’t mind – she was a good swimmer. In fact so was Clancy; it was a curse for him that despite appearances he was actually very athletic and surprisingly fast in water. For someone who hated water as much as he did, this was a real problem.
Once Coach Newhart had finally stopped barking, Twinford’s very own chief lifeguard, the implausibly named Slicker Dawn, gave a little briefing about bay safety. Slicker delivered all information at top volume, probably because he had spent much of his time shouting instructions at swimmers; he liked to repeat things too, so his five-minute briefing took a good half-hour.
‘Anyway,’ concluded the lifeguard, ‘Twinford Bay is one of the safest in the county. I repeat, one of the safest in the county. So long as you stay between the flags, you will not get sucked out to sea by the riptides and you will not get dragged down by the undertow.’
‘Oh boy,’ muttered Clancy under his breath. ‘I don’t stand a chance.’
‘Just to reassure you,’ shouted Slicker Dawn, ‘we haven’t had one mayday call or rescue in three weeks, not one! That’s a record right there.’
To Clancy this just made it all the more likely that there would be one soon – according to probability, a rescue was surely due.
The announcement over, Clancy tried to go back to concentrating on class, but however much he tried to engage with the subject at hand, he found that right now the life cycle of the Peruvian tree frog didn’t really have too much to do with the life prospects of a shrimpy boy from Twinford City.
When the bell rang, he slowly pushed his chair away from the desk, picked up his bag and walked out into the corridor. He was so lost in thought that he didn’t see his long-time enemy lumbering towards him.
‘Crew, you look like you’re about to pee your pants,’ sneered Bugwart, blocking his path.
‘No, I’m about to throw up actually so if you don’t want to get puked on, I’d get outta the way.’ As soon as he had uttered these words, he realised that he was indeed about to throw up. Looking at him, Vapona could also see that this was in fact more than likely and immediately stepped to one side as Clancy made a dash for the restroom.
When Clancy finally made it to music class, everyone else was already in their places. Ruby, who was on xylophone, was sitting on the other side of the room from Clancy who was to be on kettledrum. She could see his face, all scrunched up with anxiety, and it was pretty obvious what he was thinking about.
Ruby tapped out a message in Morse code*:
-.-. .-.. .- -. -.-. -.-- --..-- / -.-. .... .. .-.. .-.. / --- ..- - / -- .- -. --..-- /
-.-- --- ..- / .-.. --- --- -.- / .-.. .. -.- . / -.-- --- ..- .----. .-. . / .- -... --- ..- - /
- --- / -.. .. .
Clancy looked up. He knew right away what she was saying and his reply was this:
- .... .- - .----. ... / -.-. --- ... / .. / .- -- / .- -... --- ..- - / - --- / -.. .. . --..-- /
- .... .. ... / ... .- - ..- .-. -.. .- -.-- / -- --- .-. -. .. -. --.
So Ruby tapped out another which went:
- .... . .-. . / .- .-. . / -. --- / ... .... .- .-. -.- ... / .. -. / - .-- .. -. ..-. --- .-. -.. /
-... .- -.--
And in return got this back from Clancy:
.--. .-. --- ...- . / .. -
Boy, was he ever the most stubborn kid she had ever met.
Mrs Courtenay-Clack rapped her conductor’s baton crossly on the side of her music stand.
‘When you are quite ready Ruby, Clancy – we are all waiting.’
Ruby looked around the room – it was true: everyone was waiting for her to lead into this rather modern piece by Fenton Schrieber.
She picked up her stick and banged out what were meant to be the first few notes of Elastic Movement in G, but was in fact another message for Clancy.
--. . . --.. --..-- / - .... . -.-- / -.-. .- .-.. .-.. / - .... .. ... / -- ..- ... .. -.-. ..--..
He smiled.
The teacher rapped her baton again.
‘Ms Redfort, will you please get with the programme!’
‘Sorry Mrs Courtenay-Clack,’ said Ruby, pretending to leaf through her music score. ‘I think I skipped a page.’
Chapter 14.
Another Twinford Bay casualty
THAT TUESDAY AFTERNOON WAS MARKED by another Twinford Junior High swimming-related event. It seemed someone (probably Dillon Flannagon) had thought it would be amusing to dress a mannequin in the school mascot costume (a squirrel suit) and place it in the pool. The janitor got quite a shock when he saw a giant squirrel in the Twinford Junior High strip floating face-down in the water.
On a board drifting next to this unusual scene, the culprit (surely Dillon Flannagon, it really looked like his handwriting) had written in huge letters, ‘another Twinford Bay casualty’. To make matters worse, the blue paint (believed to be toxic) that the giant sign was written in was dissolving into the pool water – this made it a health and safety concern and therefore the pool would have to be drained.
Principal Levine had not seen the funny side. Whoever it was, was really for it. When Ruby passed Dillon in the corridor, she whispered, ‘Run Flannagon, run.’
After class, Ruby and Clancy fetched their bikes and wheeled them out of the gates and along the sidewalk. Clancy didn’t have the energy to cycle – he was too depressed.
‘Oh brother! What am I going to do now? There’s no way I’m getting in that bay, no way.’
‘I’ll look out for you Clance,’ said Ruby.
‘Oh yeah?’ said Clancy. ‘There are gonna be like a hundred kids all swimming out there in the bay. No way you can keep an eye on me the whole time.’
Ruby looked at him hard. ‘You can do this Clance. It’s just mind over matter is all.’
‘That’s easy for you to say,’ grumbled Clancy. ‘The water doesn’t bother you – nothing bothers you.’
This wasn’t true of course – it was just that Ruby had spent a whole lot more time thinking about this stuff. She had a notebook full of rules and one of them was RULE 12: ADJUST YOUR THINKING AND YOUR CHANCES IMPROVE. She had learned this from Mrs Digby, a wise old buzzard if ever there was one.
‘All I’m saying Clance is your chances are better if you go into it in the right frame of mind.’
‘Don’t you get it Rube? My chances are a whole lot better if I never get in that ocean in the first place. My chances of having a heart attack are greatly reduced if I don’t even get my feet wet.’
Ruby gave him a reassuring pat on the back. ‘Your chances of suffering a lifetime of grief from Coach Newhart increase by about a thousand per cent if you don’t.’
‘I know,’ sighed Clancy mournfully.
‘Come on, le
t’s go get a fruit shake,’ said Ruby, pulling him towards the Cherry Cup. ‘On me.’
When they got to the Cherry Cup, they took the high stools at the bar and Ruby reached for the long drinks menu. Clancy was swivelling his seat distractedly and muttering to himself.
‘Hey there you guys, what can I get you?’ called Cherry.
‘I’ll take a Strawberry–Pineapple-Fiesta and I reckon Clance could do with a tranquilliser.’
Cherry looked hard at Clancy. ‘You all right pal?’ he enquired kindly. ‘You look kinda strung out.’
Cherry was a man in his late fifties – greying hair and the sort of face that made people want to confide in him.
Clancy spilled the beans about the swimathon while Cherry blended fruit.
Meanwhile, Ruby thought about Spectrum. She was thinking about the briefing. Is there a connection? Is there something in the deep blue ocean causing disruption to sealife? Possibly. Could it be caused by the moon, the tides, an earthquake on the other side of the world even? Possibly.
But the shipping confusion? That has to be man-made. The question is, is it man-made by accident or man-made by design? If it isn’t an accident, then one can only conclude it has to be sinister.
She was jolted from her musings by Clancy.
‘So have you been into Spectrum yet?’
‘Could you keep your voice down buster? I’m not supposed to talk about this stuff,’ hissed Ruby.
Clancy looked around. ‘No one’s listening,’ he said, pointing at Cherry’s busy establishment. Everyone was chatting or engrossed in their magazines or menus.
‘That’s what you think,’ said Ruby. ‘How do you know that woman over there, the one with the little curly kid, isn’t keeping track of everything we say?’
‘I can tell,’ said Clancy. ‘I mean look at her, all she’s interested in is her baby.’
‘That’s how much you know,’ said Ruby. ‘I happen to be aware that she is a sector seven agent and that old curly top is just a cover.’
Clancy’s eyes grew to saucer size. ‘No way?’ he said. ‘Really?’
