said, “and the one we saw from the Eva Shay was
also unusually large. But the color of this whale seems normal to
me.”
“What about the lack of barnacles we saw in
the photos?”
“There were some, although not nearly as
many as I would expect. Most of the barnacles die when they are in
the southern waters anyway. Perhaps they just haven’t grown back as
fast on this one.”
“That may be significant.”
“I don’t know,” he said. Somehow, he was
having a hard time thinking about it. “Gray whales are grazers, not
hunters, so they don’t form clans. No advantage to it. They will
migrate together, but fairly loosely except for mothers and calves.
The behavior of this group is like nothing I’ve ever heard of, and
I’ve read everything.”
“That’s just how you described the whales
you saw on the Eva Shay, and the tag indicates at least one
of these whales was there that day. So, observations on your lead
whale?”
“My whale, is it? Except for the behavior,
she seems to be a typical specimen. The size is unusual, but
completely possible. By the way, did the Captain tell people on
board about me seeing them disappear?”
“My guess is no,” Penny said.
“Did he know about that?”
She looked at him askance. “My father may
have told him. After we left this morning. You have a problem?”
“Ripler seemed to know all about it, and I’m
starting to feel like a complete fool. None of this makes sense.
Maybe I was hallucinating.”
“What about the rest of the crew on your
fishing boat?”
“After we got back to port, no one said
anything about it, almost like it didn’t happen. Maybe we should
concentrate on the verifiable observations in front of us now….”
Matthew suddenly brought his hand to his forehead as a memory came
back like an echo.
“What?” Penny asked?
“Ripler. When I first started talking to him
today, the woman he was working with, what’s-her-name—”
“Becka.”
“Well, Becka mentioned that something
happened to Ripler, only he didn’t want to talk about it. At all.
Kind of a denial, an avoidance, and now that I think of it, like
the way some of the crew on the Eva Shay acted after the
incident. But you still haven’t told me why you pinpointed Ripler
earlier.”
The ship’s bell rang out.
Instead of giving him an answer, Penny
walked away, saying over her shoulder, “Meeting time. We’ll talk
more later, okay?”
Alone now on the deck, Matthew took one last
look through the binoculars in the lowering light. The whales
continued their slow two-step to the North, while the Valentina idled along behind, as if shyly waiting for an
invitation to dance that would never come. Though their steady
headway proved it a lie, he felt marooned on an island of
confusion.
Yet his doubts no longer seemed to matter.
The net was cast. The question was, had he become the fisher or the
fish?
CHAPTER 11
The meeting in the galley was informal. The
light dinner consisted of cold sandwiches. As he had not eaten
since Victoria, he wolfed one down with a little juice and was glad
for another.
“We’ll keep this short,” Thorssen said.
“Malcolm and Emory got the infrared gear working and were desperate
to run it, so they’re not here. Already told them, in brief, what
you’re going to hear now. But first, anything else?”
Matthew looked around. Ripler seemed
completely self-contained. No one spoke, so Thorssen continued.
“Some news. We’ll have a visit from the Air
Force.” There was a stirring in the room that only grew more
conspicuous when Thorssen added, “Tomorrow.”
“And whose idea was this?” Becka asked.
“Not ours,” Thorssen said. “Doctor Bell
tried talking them out of it, but then figured getting too much in
their face could cause blowback later on.”
Ripler smiled. “And what could they possibly
want with us?”
“Has to do…,” Thorssen started to say, but
he paused to let his breath out and perhaps collect his
also unusually large. But the color of this whale seems normal to
me.”
“What about the lack of barnacles we saw in
the photos?”
“There were some, although not nearly as
many as I would expect. Most of the barnacles die when they are in
the southern waters anyway. Perhaps they just haven’t grown back as
fast on this one.”
“That may be significant.”
“I don’t know,” he said. Somehow, he was
having a hard time thinking about it. “Gray whales are grazers, not
hunters, so they don’t form clans. No advantage to it. They will
migrate together, but fairly loosely except for mothers and calves.
The behavior of this group is like nothing I’ve ever heard of, and
I’ve read everything.”
“That’s just how you described the whales
you saw on the Eva Shay, and the tag indicates at least one
of these whales was there that day. So, observations on your lead
whale?”
“My whale, is it? Except for the behavior,
she seems to be a typical specimen. The size is unusual, but
completely possible. By the way, did the Captain tell people on
board about me seeing them disappear?”
“My guess is no,” Penny said.
“Did he know about that?”
She looked at him askance. “My father may
have told him. After we left this morning. You have a problem?”
“Ripler seemed to know all about it, and I’m
starting to feel like a complete fool. None of this makes sense.
Maybe I was hallucinating.”
“What about the rest of the crew on your
fishing boat?”
“After we got back to port, no one said
anything about it, almost like it didn’t happen. Maybe we should
concentrate on the verifiable observations in front of us now….”
Matthew suddenly brought his hand to his forehead as a memory came
back like an echo.
“What?” Penny asked?
“Ripler. When I first started talking to him
today, the woman he was working with, what’s-her-name—”
“Becka.”
“Well, Becka mentioned that something
happened to Ripler, only he didn’t want to talk about it. At all.
Kind of a denial, an avoidance, and now that I think of it, like
the way some of the crew on the Eva Shay acted after the
incident. But you still haven’t told me why you pinpointed Ripler
earlier.”
The ship’s bell rang out.
Instead of giving him an answer, Penny
walked away, saying over her shoulder, “Meeting time. We’ll talk
more later, okay?”
Alone now on the deck, Matthew took one last
look through the binoculars in the lowering light. The whales
continued their slow two-step to the North, while the Valentina idled along behind, as if shyly waiting for an
invitation to dance that would never come. Though their steady
headway proved it a lie, he felt marooned on an island of
confusion.
Yet his doubts no longer seemed to matter.
The net was cast. The question was, had he become the fisher or the
fish?
CHAPTER 11
The meeting in the galley was informal. The
light dinner consisted of cold sandwiches. As he had not eaten
since Victoria, he wolfed one down with a little juice and was glad
for another.
“We’ll keep this short,” Thorssen said.
“Malcolm and Emory got the infrared gear working and were desperate
to run it, so they’re not here. Already told them, in brief, what
you’re going to hear now. But first, anything else?”
Matthew looked around. Ripler seemed
completely self-contained. No one spoke, so Thorssen continued.
“Some news. We’ll have a visit from the Air
Force.” There was a stirring in the room that only grew more
conspicuous when Thorssen added, “Tomorrow.”
“And whose idea was this?” Becka asked.
“Not ours,” Thorssen said. “Doctor Bell
tried talking them out of it, but then figured getting too much in
their face could cause blowback later on.”
Ripler smiled. “And what could they possibly
want with us?”
“Has to do…,” Thorssen started to say, but
he paused to let his breath out and perhaps collect his
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