by Lauren Child
‘What do you mean nothing?’ said Ruby.
‘It’s just bursts of static, three of them – each one of exactly the same duration,’ replied Hitch. ‘We’re guessing that all three recordings are the same piece of music, the same code. Looks like they had trouble broadcasting it – the code maker tried and failed to transmit the message three times. In the end it seems he or she gave up so we have nothing to go on.’
Ruby picked up the envelope. ‘I’ll take a listen anyhow,’ she said. ‘Just in case something got missed.’
Hitch had been called out, he didn’t say where, and so Ruby sat alone at the kitchen table listening to the static over and over on her tape machine, her headphones cushioning her ears and keeping all household sounds out. Reluctantly, she had to agree that Hitch was right: there was no message; some kind of error had prevented its transmission.
It was late in the evening, almost midnight, when her mother bustled into the kitchen. She and Brant had been entertaining the Pengroves and they had just finished after-dinner drinks and were about to call it a night.
‘Ruby, you’re still up! You’ve got school tomorrow and circles around your eyes as big as pandas.’
‘Don’t you mean circles as big as a panda’s?’
‘What?’
‘Nothing,’ said Ruby.
‘Teenagers need their sleep, you should know that, it’s a fact of nature,’ asserted her mother. This was one of the few facts that Sabina was both certain of and correct about.
‘OK,’ muttered Ruby. ‘I’ll go to my room if it makes you so happy.’
‘That’s exactly the attitude that comes from not having enough sleep,’ said Sabina.
‘Yeah, yeah,’ replied Ruby.
‘There it is again,’ said her mother.
‘Ah geez!’ said Ruby. ‘I’m outta here.’
That night Ruby found herself back in the deep, but this time ‘the thing’ didn’t appear in the indigo water, this time it only whispered to her – and the miniature diving man was not there at all.
She looked for the voice’s owner, but all she saw was indigo. She felt something breathing right next to her – hot, moist breath, strong in odour, with a smell that was oddly familiar.
She woke up.
Two eyes were looking into hers, two piercing blue eyes. ‘Hey Bug.’ She kissed him on the nose and he licked her on the cheek. ‘I get the impression you didn’t brush your teeth this morning.’
Relieved not to be drowning in the ocean, Ruby fumbled for her glasses and reached for the bedside light. She looked at her alarm clock – it was almost dawn, she might as well get up. She retrieved her notebook and sat down at her desk. She looked at the lists she had made, focusing on the one that was headed Sea Sounds.
There was something bothering Ruby. It had been niggling her since that first Spectrum briefing, but she couldn’t quite catch it; it just fluttered back and forth in the corridors of her brain.
It was something to do with the people who had heard the Whisperer. She put her head on her desk: teenagers need their sleep. Her mother’s words, her last muttered thought as she fell into oblivion. Words that seemed relevant somehow.
Minutes later, or so it seemed, something clunked down on the desktop, something that smelled good.
‘Thought you could use an old-fashioned cup of tea – English style,’ said Mrs Digby. Mrs Digby was very proud of her English heritage, even though the Digbys had left England a couple of hundred years previously.
Ruby slowly lifted her head from the desk and looked at the mug sitting just to the right of her nose. She felt terrible; there was a candy wrapper stuck to her cheek and her barrette was digging into her scalp. She had been sleeping like that for almost two hours.
‘Thanks Mrs Digby, I could certainly use it.’
‘I reckon so,’ said the housekeeper, looking her up and down. ‘What are you doing sleeping out of your bed?’
‘Bad dreams,’ said Ruby.
‘It’ll be the cheese,’ said Mrs Digby.
Ruby nodded, knowing that though this was not the reason, it wasn’t worth getting into a discussion over. Mrs Digby had her theories and they stuck to her like glue.
‘Hitch around?’ Ruby asked.
‘Gone somewhere,’ said Mrs Digby. ‘And don’t ask me where ’cause I don’t know, just saw his car was absent from the drive early this morning.’
Ruby checked her watch – it was early but still she would have to cut school. She pulled on her clothes and grabbed her satchel.
As she cycled to Desolate Cove, the same thought went round and round Ruby's head: something to do with teenagers. But what? She hid her bike from view, crossed the pebble beach and edged her way carefully round the cliff until she found the cove that the super sub was hidden in. Would she be able to get it started?
How difficult can it be?
Pretty difficult, it turned out. Locating the key was no trouble at all – she used the rescue watch’s metal detector function to find that. Working out how to use the key was the near impossible thing.
An hour later and she had figured it out. The sub was not the easiest thing to pilot either, but once she got the hang of it, it was what you might call thrilling. She had paid close attention during that first trip with Hitch and seen the way he had gained entrance to the rock. She got in without a problem, navigated through the water tunnel and parked up, if scuba subs could be parked.
These days Ruby didn’t need to break into Spectrum, but she had no clearance for Sea Division and she certainly didn’t have permission to revisit the lecture theatre by herself. So she snuck back in through the tiny internal window, situated six feet above the floor. Not easy to reach, but Ruby was an excellent tree climber and this stood her in great stead for most vertical challenges.
By standing on the drinking fountain, she managed to haul herself up and through the opening without great difficulty. The window accessed the little projection booth where the projector and audio equipment were kept. The carousel containing the slides from last week’s briefing was still sitting on the desk next to it. Ruby slotted the carousel in place, flicked the switch and listened to the projector as the fan began to whir and the light beam caught the dust particles, which moved like plankton in and out of the darkness.
Ruby went through the slides slowly, pausing on each one, carefully studying them.
The swimming boy, Tommy Elson.
The smiling couple, Hallie Grier and Lyle Greene.
The surfer girl, Billie-May Vaughn.
The kid with the fishing rod, Danny Fink Junior.
Ruby wasn’t sure about Hallie and Lyle, but the others were most definitely pretty young. She took out the slide of the smiling couple. There was a label at the bottom which read:
That was the connection.
That was why she’d been thinking about her mother’s words: it was to do with teenagers – kids.
Everyone who had heard the Whisperer was either a kid, or not yet quite an adult. This included Ruby herself of course. She had read somewhere that kids and teenagers could hear sounds that adults couldn’t – higher frequencies – just like dogs. As you got older, your ears became less sensitive, and these high tones started to fall out of reach.
What if the reason no one was taking these reports seriously was because no adult had heard the Sea Whisperer? You had to be a kid to hear it.
So supposing the whispering was a fact, but could only be heard by kids, where was it coming from? Who or what was generating this sound? Red had heard it during the swimathon. Ruby herself had heard it when diving the wreck. Sailors of bygone times had heard it too and sailors in those days were often boys, not yet grown men.
What was that thing Martha had said? A whispering sea devil? Could there really be such a creature?
Ruby headed out the way she came in – pushing herself backwards through the tiny window – feeling around with her feet for the drinking fountain. It was higher up than she remembered, less st
able too, and then she realised why; her feet were not resting on the fountain, they were resting on someone’s shoulders.
Ruby’s heart skipped.
Then…
‘I’d recognise those sneakers anywhere,’ said a voice.
‘Man! You nearly gave me a heart attack,’ hissed Ruby, peering down at Hitch.
HITCH: ‘You might well have a heart attack if Agent Trent-Kobie discovers you here – what do you think you’re doing?’
RUBY: ‘Research. I needed to look at those slides again, the ones Kekoa presented last week.’
HITCH: ‘So why didn’t you ask permission?’
RUBY: ‘In case they said no.’
HITCH: ‘That’s not a good reason.’
RUBY: {Silence}
HITCH: ‘At the very least you could have asked me.’
RUBY: ‘You weren’t around.’
HITCH: ‘I’m contactable, ever think of that?’
RUBY: ‘I couldn’t be bothered.’
HITCH: ‘Am I hearing this?’
RUBY: ‘I mean time was a factor.’
HITCH: ‘Well, it took you long enough to get the scuba sub started.’
RUBY: ‘What? You followed me?’
HITCH: ‘Not exactly. I was looking for clues at Desolate Cove, then I saw you.’
RUBY: ‘So why didn’t you help me get it started?’
HITCH: ‘I wanted to see if you could manage and it turns out you could.’
RUBY: ‘So how did you get here?’
HITCH: ‘There’s more than one scuba sub.’
RUBY: ‘I guess there is.’
HITCH: ‘You find out what you needed to find out?’
RUBY: ‘Yeah.’
HITCH: ‘Then I would advise that we get out of here before you get in deep trouble.’
When both scuba subs had reached the shores of Desolate Cove and both agents were walking back across the pebble beach, Hitch quizzed Ruby about her findings. She was about to fill him in when his watch flashed green.
‘Got to take this,’ he said.
The voice coming through was LB’s and she did not sound happy. ‘I’ve been trying to locate you for the last forty-five minutes.’
‘Had to check something out at Sea Division,’ he replied.
‘Well, you’re needed in Spectrum – something’s come up.’
‘On my way. Over and out.’
He turned to Ruby. ‘Sorry kid, you’re going to have to hold that thought. We’ll catch up later, OK?’
Ruby shrugged. ‘Guess so,’ she said.
‘Just hold that thought,’ he called as he strode across the iron-grey stones.
Ruby retrieved her bike and cycled back to Twinford, all the while thinking, Could there really be some kind of sea monster out there? Or am I beginning to lose it?
To help answer both these questions (one preposterous, the other highly likely) she started heading for the place she knew would have most books on the subject – and then she had a better idea.
She turned her bike around.
Chapter 36.
Stranger things have happened at sea
TWENTY MINUTES LATER RUBY PULLED UP outside the Crew mansion. She knew how to trigger the security gate and was inside in a second. She then slipped around to the west side of the house and climbed up the vine to Clancy’s bedroom.
It was a cinch. The house was built in the Parisian style and resembled a sort of mini chateau covered in creeper. She elegantly stepped from the vine into the room via the balcony window with musketeer-like ease.
‘Hey Rube, you didn’t say you were coming over,’ said Clancy.
Ruby screeched in a most un-Ruby-Redfort-like way.
‘Sorry Rube, didn’t mean to alarm you,’ said Clancy.
‘You’re skipping school again?’
‘It’s swim practice,’ explained Clancy. ‘Anyway, you’re the one doing the breaking and entering.’
‘Yeah, sorry about that. But you’re pushing your luck my friend – two Mondays in a row, they’re gonna cotton on sooner or later.’
‘Yeah, I know, that’s why I’m lying low. Anyway, what’s your excuse?’
‘I want to take a look at your sea monster books,’ replied Ruby.
‘You cut school for that? Kinda weird emergency if you ask me.’ But he simply shrugged and pointed to the giant stack of books next to his bed. ‘Be my guest.’ He seemed a little puzzled, but happy to oblige.
Ruby sat on the floor, flipping through page after page. What she was looking for were stories and legends that might relate back to accounts of a whispering sound, strange noises heard at sea.
She found many myths of sea monsters and strange creatures who would call to earthly folk: the Blue Men of the Minch who lived in underwater caves and the selkies, seal people who lived off Scotland and Iceland; mermaids calling sailors to join them under the waves; sea witches and watery Pied Pipers who lured children from the shores down to watery graves. Then there were the giants of the sea: the prehistoric monsters from the deep that dragged entire boatfuls of men to their deaths, and devoured whole ships.
Most of the legends appeared to Ruby to be a way of explaining things that simple people couldn’t understand, giving some reason for the random deaths in those cruel seas in that harsh age.
However, some of the tales seemed to have more substance, and told of sightings of strange and improbable beasts. The recurring theme of mysterious singers and whispered callings in particular appeared in various accounts connected to Twinford.
There was one tragic account of a cabin boy called Robin Farthingale who swore he could hear a woman calling to him in the fog, her mournful whispers, cries for rescue. He dove in and was never seen again.
There was the Mary-Belle, which was smashed to pieces on the Sibling cliffs after the youngest of the sailors steered the vessel off course, believing that there were mermaids whispering in the darkness, saying, Help us, we beg you, help us.
There were whispers in storms, urging crews to jump ship. Most of those who did so jumped to their graves, their drowned and battered bodies found much later, if at all, washed up onshore.
There were a few theories as to the cause of these eerie sounds. Most believed that far from being an actual creature, the whispering came from the ghosts of the lost sisters of the Sibling Islands calling for help. The less romantic said the sound was merely the sea pulling gravel along the ocean floor.
Others said it was the wind. But some claimed to have seen the Sea Whisperer, a giant and terrifying creature, bigger than any whale. A creature so strong that it could pull the burliest of fisherman from his boat and strangle six men at a time; some vowed eight.
After forty-six minutes of watching Ruby read, Clancy asked, ‘So what kind of sea monsters are you interested in?’
‘The kind that attack sharks,’ said Ruby.
‘Mythical ones, right?’ asked Clancy hopefully.
‘Uh uh, real ones,’ said Ruby.
‘A creature that attacks sharks?’ exclaimed Clancy and his arms started to flap.
‘And killer whales,’ she added.
‘Oh brother!’ said Clancy. This made him feel even worse: now there was something even bigger to fear, more dangerous than a shark, bigger than a killer whale.
‘Clance, where are the factual marine life books about the deep? The deep deep I mean – about creatures that people aren’t sure exist but think might?’
‘They’re in the closet,’ said Clancy. ‘Ever since this whole swimathon thing I haven’t been able to look at them.’ He pulled a whole bunch of books out and slid them across the floor.
She went through each one; there was a lot to learn when it came to the deep and she couldn’t help reading facts out loud.
RUBY: ‘Did you know that we have only explored five per cent of the ocean?’
CLANCY: ‘Yeah, I did actually.’
RUBY: ‘Did you know we know more about the surface of the moon than the bottom of the ocean
bed?’
CLANCY: ‘Yeah, I know.’
RUBY: ‘Did you know that a new species is discovered every time we explore the bottom of the ocean?’
CLANCY: ‘Actually between four and six new species, but yeah, I know.’
RUBY: ‘I didn’t know you actually read all of this stuff.’
CLANCY: ‘What did you think I did with it?’
RUBY: ‘I don’t know, look at the pictures and hide under your bed?’
CLANCY: ‘Yeah, funny Rube, excuse me while I die laughing.’
RUBY: ‘Hey, but really Clance, how come you read all this stuff if you hate the ocean so much?’
CLANCY: ‘I don’t hate the ocean, I just don’t want to ever go in it. There’s a difference.’
RUBY: ‘You know you’re gonna have to get over this, you can’t—’
She didn’t finish her sentence. Her eyes had alighted upon something she recognised. A photograph that had fallen from the book, but didn’t belong to it.
It was a half page torn from a magazine and tucked into the book. The picture was of a young man, the face a little out of focus, but it showed him smiling in a wetsuit, standing against a blue Mediterranean sea.
But it wasn’t the man that Ruby recognised, it was the bag at his feet. Yellow with a blurred blue shape printed on the left side. She took her watch from her wrist and swivelled out the refocus magnifier and laid it over the blue. The blue became a logo, an animal – a dog? Something like a dog anyway. This bag was the same yellow bag she had seen the stranger carrying, but the man in the photo looked a good deal younger than the stranger, but that made sense, because it looked like it had been taken a while ago.
In the photograph he had obviously just returned from a dive and his boat was moored behind him. The name of the boat was partially obscured though the last word could easily be read: mare, the Italian word for sea. The middle word couldn’t be seen because the smiling man stood in front of it and the other letters spelled upo – well, that didn’t mean anything. UPO ___ MARE?
Unless of course the first letter of the word had been cropped by the photographer in which case it was likely to be an L… an L for LUPO, meaning wolf.
