said.
“Their strategy seems to be to live off us. In a way, we have
indirectly become their food source.”
“We should be glad that some animals are
finding us so beneficent, I suppose, even if they do tend to be the
scavengers. How’d you get into this line of inquiry?”
“Deep depression,” she said, but her face
was unreadable.
Matthew remained silent. She poured herself
another drink and offered him the bottle.
“No thanks,” he said. “I’m still working on
this. I don’t want to nose into your life….”
“Sure you do, but it’s no big deal. I’ve
always been strongly empathetic with animals. A day came when I saw
that I couldn’t handle standing-by while they were all losing their
place. So, I decided to focus on the survivors.”
“You believe it’s hopeless?”
“We’re watching the end play out. Then we’ll
see who’s left.”
“There are more people than ever working
right now….” His words suddenly sounded weak. “You could be
wrong.”
“I didn’t mean to sound like the word of
God,” she said, turning the cup in her hand as she spoke. Its paper
lip was getting frayed. She put it down, got up, and looked out the
window. “I saw a supertanker go by after my nap. Do you know how
long it takes to stop one of those things?”
“Ten kilometers or so.”
“With the engines on full reverse. And
that’s where we are now. When and if we ever decide to change the
way we live in the world, there won’t be time.”
“You know, if you have enough space, you can
shorten the distance to about three kilometers by cutting back and
forth.”
“Do we have the space to do that? Seems like
less and less to me.”
“Metaphors can be stretched only so
far.”
Penny said nothing but lifted her cup again,
took a long sip of the honey-hued liquor. Matthew looked at the
level in the fifth on the table.
She leaned toward him, eyes unblinking. “I
can hold mine. How about you?”
“Penny, a friend of mine drowned years back.
He got drunk and took a boat out at night to steal lobsters out of
traps. Capsized somehow. He’d been drinking with me. It was my
idea.”
“To steal lobsters?”
“No, to drink. I should have stopped him
from going.”
“I’m not much on sentiment.”
A wave of sadness washed across her face. A
second wave swept it away. Another part of Matthew began
surrendering to her, and he no longer cared.
“Pour me a little more, Penny. Not too
much.”
She did, and touched the rim of her cup to
his as he held it in front of his lips.
Later, they came out onto the open deck, and
immediately Dirk trotted up to tell them about a meeting at nine
thirty, which would include a late snack. The sea had become calmer
and looked as thick as oil. This far north, the sun set late in the
summer, so there was plenty of light left. Twilight would come
soon. The whales looked like black commas punctuating the long
rambling swells. Penny looked through Thorssen’s binoculars and
scanned the whales, her elbows propped on the railing of the
fo’c’sle.
“Does this look unusual to you?” Matthew
said. “I mean, whales aren’t your field, so what would be your
impression of them, if you didn’t know anything about them?”
“That sounds like a question I would come up
with. Well, they’re awesome in the original sense of the word. But
I wouldn’t be so struck by their close swimming, if I didn’t know
it was odd for grays. You want to have a look?”
“Sure.”
“Catch.”
“No!”
She tossed the binoculars to him anyway, and
he caught them as casually as he could, but she immediately sprang
over to give him a dig in the ribs.
“Okay, okay. So let me have a look!”
She became quiet but kept smiling as he
raised the binoculars. The immense size of the whales created the
illusion that they were swimming in slow motion, almost as if
tempting the ship to catch up. He searched for the lead whale.
“The whale in the lead is bigger than the
others,” he
C. J. Cherryh
Learning to Kill: Stories
John O'Riley
Brenda Sinclair
Christopher George
Stephen Lloyd Jones
Karl Iagnemma
Celya Bowers
Jill Gregory
Aria Cunningham