thoughts.
“Transceiver signals, the tag we put on Lefty. They’re interested
in the signal disruption.”
“Someone told them about that?” Becka was
almost yelling.
Thorssen smiled and seemed to relax into the
flow of the battle.
“When we had trouble with Lefty’s
transceiver, Harold Conlan thought the Air Force might be testing
something, so he called them. A reasonable thing to do, and it’s
happened before. But this time they got back to Harold right away.
They never do that. Most likely means they’ve had troubles of their
own.”
“I don’t see how it could have anything to
do with us,” Becka said.
“They told Doctor Bell that coming here was
a matter of national security. Doubtful if we could stop them,
anyway.”
Becka had been slowly shaking her head for
at least the last minute.
“What they are going to be doing? Will they
check records?”
“Let’s not go overboard,” Thorssen said.
“Not the CIA coming here.”
“I’d like to say something,” Becka said.
“You already have,” Thorssen said, but gave
way with a hand gesture.
Becka swept her frizzy hair back, got to her
feet and addressed the room. “We haven’t been told everything.
That’s the trouble here.”
She glanced toward Matthew. He didn’t know
if she and the other crew were aware of his encounter on the Eva
Shay , but he had a feeling they were less up to date than
Ripler.
Thorssen looked straight at Matthew and
said, “It’s your call.”
Ever since he had agreed to Doctor Bell’s
request, Matthew had been defending himself in his imagination
against attacks on the account he would give of what had happened
to him. Ripler had put serious doubts in his mind, but he was still
glad to finally bring everything out in the open. He shifted on the
bench to face the middle of the student crew.
“The short version is that I was present
when the first loss of signal from Lefty’s transceiver occurred. I
gather all of you know about that at least?”
Out of the corner of his eye he could see
Ripler’s smirk, but Thorssen immediately added, “Matthew, they need
to hear it from you.”
“Okay,” Matthew said and started giving them
some background on how he happened to be on a fishing boat and then
told his story. They never interrupted the recounting of his tale.
Even afterwards, no one seemed to have any immediate comments. He
got up to get some water and leaned against the sideboard.
“Questions?”
“Well, the obvious one,” Becka said. “What
happened to this purple whale?”
“I don’t know. The lead whale in the group
we’re following fits the size and behavior—”
“Hang on,” someone near the front said. “I
don’t see how we can even consider the possibility that the whales
really moved in some unexplainable way.”
It was Dirk, the crewmember who had met them
in the Zodiac when they arrived. He was straight and tall, a little
stiff in the way he sat, but he seemed friendly even in his
rejection of Matthew’s account.
“What about the current behavior of the
whales we are following?” another woman asked. “Oh, excuse me,
Matthew. My name is Mary. Mary Sims.” She gave Matthew a polite
smile and went on. “The whales we are following are acting the same
as the ones Matthew described seeing from his fishing boat. There
is no need to discount everything he says just because one part is
still a little confused.”
Dirk shrugged his shoulders. “The behavior
is significant, but they could have got here the usual way. There
was time. My guess is that the ‘displacement’ is the result of
equipment problems, solar flares or some other kind of glitch, but
I am interested in solving this, and I believe Matthew is telling
the truth as far as he knows it.”
“Thanks,” Matthew said.
Dirk nodded, then looked toward the woman
who spoke before. “Something else?”
“Thank you, yes,” Mary said and carefully
cleared her throat, which only succeeded in bringing attention to
her
“Transceiver signals, the tag we put on Lefty. They’re interested
in the signal disruption.”
“Someone told them about that?” Becka was
almost yelling.
Thorssen smiled and seemed to relax into the
flow of the battle.
“When we had trouble with Lefty’s
transceiver, Harold Conlan thought the Air Force might be testing
something, so he called them. A reasonable thing to do, and it’s
happened before. But this time they got back to Harold right away.
They never do that. Most likely means they’ve had troubles of their
own.”
“I don’t see how it could have anything to
do with us,” Becka said.
“They told Doctor Bell that coming here was
a matter of national security. Doubtful if we could stop them,
anyway.”
Becka had been slowly shaking her head for
at least the last minute.
“What they are going to be doing? Will they
check records?”
“Let’s not go overboard,” Thorssen said.
“Not the CIA coming here.”
“I’d like to say something,” Becka said.
“You already have,” Thorssen said, but gave
way with a hand gesture.
Becka swept her frizzy hair back, got to her
feet and addressed the room. “We haven’t been told everything.
That’s the trouble here.”
She glanced toward Matthew. He didn’t know
if she and the other crew were aware of his encounter on the Eva
Shay , but he had a feeling they were less up to date than
Ripler.
Thorssen looked straight at Matthew and
said, “It’s your call.”
Ever since he had agreed to Doctor Bell’s
request, Matthew had been defending himself in his imagination
against attacks on the account he would give of what had happened
to him. Ripler had put serious doubts in his mind, but he was still
glad to finally bring everything out in the open. He shifted on the
bench to face the middle of the student crew.
“The short version is that I was present
when the first loss of signal from Lefty’s transceiver occurred. I
gather all of you know about that at least?”
Out of the corner of his eye he could see
Ripler’s smirk, but Thorssen immediately added, “Matthew, they need
to hear it from you.”
“Okay,” Matthew said and started giving them
some background on how he happened to be on a fishing boat and then
told his story. They never interrupted the recounting of his tale.
Even afterwards, no one seemed to have any immediate comments. He
got up to get some water and leaned against the sideboard.
“Questions?”
“Well, the obvious one,” Becka said. “What
happened to this purple whale?”
“I don’t know. The lead whale in the group
we’re following fits the size and behavior—”
“Hang on,” someone near the front said. “I
don’t see how we can even consider the possibility that the whales
really moved in some unexplainable way.”
It was Dirk, the crewmember who had met them
in the Zodiac when they arrived. He was straight and tall, a little
stiff in the way he sat, but he seemed friendly even in his
rejection of Matthew’s account.
“What about the current behavior of the
whales we are following?” another woman asked. “Oh, excuse me,
Matthew. My name is Mary. Mary Sims.” She gave Matthew a polite
smile and went on. “The whales we are following are acting the same
as the ones Matthew described seeing from his fishing boat. There
is no need to discount everything he says just because one part is
still a little confused.”
Dirk shrugged his shoulders. “The behavior
is significant, but they could have got here the usual way. There
was time. My guess is that the ‘displacement’ is the result of
equipment problems, solar flares or some other kind of glitch, but
I am interested in solving this, and I believe Matthew is telling
the truth as far as he knows it.”
“Thanks,” Matthew said.
Dirk nodded, then looked toward the woman
who spoke before. “Something else?”
“Thank you, yes,” Mary said and carefully
cleared her throat, which only succeeded in bringing attention to
her
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