Far From The Sea We Know (13 page)

Without looking, she flicked the
scrunched-up cup into the corner wastebasket. “What happened with
you and Ripler?”

He stiffened. “Penny…”

“He’s cast some doubts your way, hasn’t
he?”

“Yes, though I can’t say I like the
guy.”

“‘Like’? You can’t stand him, and you know
it!”

“Okay. But he had some points, like trying
to find a rational explanation for this before we so quickly
welcome the paranormal and bizarre.”

“Who’s talking bizarre?”

He could have brought up her flat-earth
idea, but let it go and only said, “Ripler’s argument is that we
have too easily entertained the possibility…of well, the
impossible. You know, ‘bad science.’ He may be right. Maybe we
haven’t been rigorous enough. And is that so much to ask? This
is
supposed to be a scientific expedition.”

Penny looked at him and her eyelids dropped
so he could barely see the pupils. She wasn’t smiling.

“I know Jack Ripler, Matthew. He’s working
closely with the people who are politicking to get control of the
Point from my father. People who can’t see past their own little
fiefdoms, whose idea of living is simply to increase their
influence and power base. You might remember that when you’re
considering motives. Who on this ship would you trust with your
life, if it ever came to that?”

“Would you trust me with yours?” he said. A
feeling that he would be with her for the rest of his life washed
over him as softly as a warm summer rain.

He crossed over and sat on the bunk next to
her.

“Matthew…”

“Penny, listen to me. I had this chance to
make something of myself. By getting a degree I could do finally
something worthwhile, only now maybe it’s all going down the drain.
And it’s too late to turn back.”

She smiled, let out a short laugh. “You
are
a romantic!”

She started to get up, when suddenly he held
her by the shoulders. “Listen to me! All I can see for sure is you.
I trust you, whatever the consequences, and…”

She pulled in a quick short breath. “Where
is your patience now?”

He could not say anything. He let her go and
sat on the bed looking at her, their breath the only movement. Then
her fingers swam through his hair and the heat from her body poured
into him, and they submerged as one into the depths of an uncharted
sea.

Matthew woke at dawn and witnessed the first
light of day gleaming on the rim of the porthole. He rolled his
head over on the pillow and looked at Penny as she slept. The look
of world-weary toughness that always seemed to lie just behind her
open face had vanished in the night. Her breath flowed in and out
in slow silent waves.

He dressed as quietly as he could and crept
toward the door, shoes in hand. On the way, he scooped up the
binoculars. He glanced at her as he went out. She was still asleep.
He waited until he had reached the open deck before putting his
shoes on.

Emory and Malcolm were up on the fo’c’sle,
still working their shift operating the tracking gear. Matthew
climbed the steps, and went to stand near them, wondering what they
had found about the lead whale. The warmth of the bed was still
with him, however, and he chose not to speak right away, but to
have a fresh look of his own. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes
and looked through the binoculars.

The flukes of the grays were still rising
and falling, as precise as metronomes.

Entrainment.

That was the word he had been trying to
remember: moving together as if one.

They looked completely coordinated, perhaps
even more so than the day before. He could imagine their sound over
the steady drone of the engine, of their rising and falling, of
their breath. There was not yet enough light to be completely sure,
but he saw a large gray at the head of the whales.

“Is that her, the whale in the lead?”
Matthew asked Emory.

From behind the beard and glasses came his
reply: “Yep.”

“Still fifty-three?”

“Yep.”

The big man sat as if immovable, apparently
not in the mood for talk. Next to him, Malcolm had closed his eyes.
They had been up all night. Matthew peered through the binoculars
again and asked, “Sleepy?”

“We’re fine,” they said together.

Matthew brought the binoculars down and
looked their way. They were both staring straight ahead, looking
slightly dazed. It felt so weird, he just wanted to leave, but
instead said, “Sorry. I know you must be tired, but I was wondering
if you’d had any new ideas about the discrepancy in the infrared
scans?”

In unison, they shook their heads and
shrugged their shoulders. Malcolm looked about half the size of the
hulking figure next to him.

“Makes no sense, no sense at all!” they
cried out simultaneously. “No sense, oh dearie, dearie me, ha ha
ha, hyuk…”

Their laughter alternated between belly
laughs and snorts as they attempted to suck enough air back in to
stay conscious. All Matthew could say was, “Anything…happen out
here last night, guys?”

“Not really. Not a thing. No una cosa,” they
said, again completely synchronized. They looked at him as if
nothing had happened, then their eyes went up, as if to gaze at the
wind.

Suddenly they both gulped in as much air as
they could. Malcolm held his breath while Emory said, “We could
sure, could sure use something to eat! Any chance?” His eyes had
become huge and his wide grin must have used muscles left idle
since childhood. He looked like a different person. He looked
crazy. Malcolm finally let his breath out, forming a small “o” with
his mouth. Both looked oddly refreshed. They almost glowed.
Although the June dawn was cutting cold, drops of sweat started to
appear on their faces. A thin line of drool oozed from the corner
of Emory’s mouth.

“Breakfast, sure” Matthew said. “No problem.
Coffee?”

“You know,” Emory said, snapping his head
around to look at Matthew, “it must be all the excitement, but I
don’t feel tired, not in the least. How about you, Malcolm?”

“Same here, I’m fine. No coffee, no tea.
Reeeally hungry, though!”

Emory laughed at this like a drunken Santa
Claus. “Yes, and thirsty, for sure on that, but no coffee. Fetch
juice. Juice! We’re starving and dying of thirst! Dying, we say!
And a KFC bucket! Fried chicken!”

“Si,” Malcolm added, elbowing Emory. “The
beeeg one, grande—no, two! Two! One for me and one for thee. Arwk!
And something for the parrot—”

“But we won’t—“

“—Eat him,” Emory added, completing the
sentence. “We love birds.”

“ Pronto, si!” Malcolm said, waving his arms
like a bird.

They giggled like children.

Matthew backed away, smiling. “I’ll see what
I can find in the galley, guys.” He kept edging back while
attempting a carefree good-bye wave.

What is this?

He climbed down to the first deck and
quickened his step as he moved out of sight. The door to Penny’s
cabin opened as he approached.

He slipped in and quietly closed the door,
saying, “You were asleep, and I wanted to check on the whales.”

“Come here,” she said.

He sat on the bed next to her.

“No expectations. No explanations.”

He leaned over and gave her a soft kiss.
“Impossible.”

“And no excuses. Make an effort, or I’ll
break your neck.”

“A sweet death,” he said and kissed her
again.

She smiled. “So, how are they this
morning?”

“The whales are fine and apparently all
there, but Emory and Malcolm are nuts.”

“I suppose.”

“No, really. But I promised I’d bring them
some breakfast, and I better do it soon, or they’ll start eating
the equipment.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’ll tell you in the galley. Please come. I
could use your help, and I don’t want to go back to them
alone.”

“One quick honeymoon,” Penny said. She
started to get up but Matthew gently pushed her back to the pillow
and took her shoulders tenderly in his hands. He saw himself
reflected in her eyes, swimming there like a creature of the
sea.

“There will be more time someday,” he
said.

“So you all think.”

There was no one else in the galley, which
was odd. Usually Mateo would have been up early to prepare
breakfast for the crew. Matthew scrambled eight extra large eggs
and made toast, while Penny threw together hash browns from some
leftover potatoes. He filled her in on his encounter with Emory and
Malcolm.

“Tweedledee and Tweedledum,” Penny said.
“Can’t imagine one without the other. They’re roommates, you
know.”

“You should have heard them. And seen them.
It really gave me the creeps.” He scraped the eggs out of the
skillet onto some enameled tin plates.

“That’s a huge parcel of eggs, isn’t it,
even for those two guys?” Penny said, dumping the hash browns onto
what space remained.

“Trust me, I don’t want to get my hand
eaten. And bring the whole pitcher of juice, please. Any fried
chicken around?”

“Huh?”

“Forget it. Here goes.”

He started toward the hatch, and Penny
slipped in front to hold it open. She followed closely behind as he
made his way up the steps of the companionway. They found Emory and
Malcolm still at their seats, but now they were staring at the
water, ignoring the equipment.

“What took you?” Emory said. “Oh, but the
smell! Yes! Worth the waiting.”

Their heads swiveled toward Penny. They
saluted and said together, “Sweetie pie!” before breaking into
giggles.

Emory grabbed a plate and began shoveling
scrambled eggs toward his gaping mouth with a piece of toast. He
tried to speak now and then, but was incomprehensible. Malcolm just
used his hand, taking small gobs of eggs, tilting his head back and
sliding them down with a goose-like swallow.

“Mumpf…good…real gummpf,” Emory said.

As he spoke, he kept nodding his head,
gulping the eggs like a penguin downing a herring. Matthew was
appalled at their gluttony, but tried to keep the semblance of a
smile on his face. If Penny was alarmed, other than her eyebrows
being a little higher than usual she didn’t show it.

“It won’t run away, boys,” she said. “Whoa,
slow down. Here, try a fork, Malcolm. Think of it as a game.” She
slid the fork into his yielding paw and gently wrapped his fingers
around the handle. He looked up at her gratefully, while the bits
of scrambled egg plastering his chin slowly slid off into his lap.
He stared at the fork as if he had never seen one before. Finally,
he got it working and seemed pleased that his hand could use it.
After a few endless minutes, the men began to slow down, both at
the same time. There was little left to eat, anyway.

“Aw…that was great,” Emory said although he
suddenly seemed puzzled. Malcolm had stopped and looked at Penny as
he mumbled, “He is the egg man, egg man, egg man…”

“Anything else you guys need?” Matthew asked
in as casual a voice as he could muster.

“Looks like another terrific day,” Emory
only said. He moved his focus back to the control board. Malcolm
soon followed and they quickly became absorbed in the task of
getting the tracking gear back on target from where it had drifted
while they ate.

Penny and Matthew gave each other a nod and
walked away. On the aft deck, they took a long look at the whales
then headed back down to her cabin. No one else was in the
passageways, which again seemed odd. Perhaps the excitement of the
evening before had tired them all out.

She flopped down on the bed, arms crossed
loosely against her front. Matthew sat on the edge of the bed.
Penny seemed to be looking inward.

“If it had gone on,” she finally said, “we
would have had to ship them back to port, heavily sedated. I’ve
seen people like that who suddenly get violent. Emory’s built like
a bear, and I would hate to see him become unhooked on a ship.”

“They don’t seem to be causing any harm or
bother.”

“We definitely need to let Andrew know,” she
said. “Listen. Malcolm and Emory don’t look like the kind of guys
that do drugs, especially on the job, but they seemed more than
just a little stoned.”

“Emory was so serious last night, and
Malcolm just generally awkward, but not this morning. I wish you
had heard their synchronized chatter. They’d have to rehearse for
hours to match each other’s tone and speed that closely.”

“Their egg inhalation act was enough.” She
looked at him and lowered her eyelids. “You know, I’m hungry
now.”

“Must be the sea air.”

Thumbah thumbah thumbaa thumbaaa…

“What’s that?” Penny said, laying half on
top of him.

“I’d say the Air Force has arrived. Great.”
He pushed himself up off the bed and twisted around to see out the
porthole. The hull of a large helicopter was sweeping by, “USN”
emblazoned on its tail.

“They’re here, all right, though in a Navy
chopper. Looks like they’re getting ready to lower someone
down.”

“Can’t they land on the helipad?”

“Not this thing, it’s as big as a semi.”

The sucking of the rotors made a sickening
pressure in his ears. The engine started to throttle up again.

“He’s right over us. We’d better go up.”

Penny lurched out of bed and buttoned her
shirt.

“The whales can’t be loving this.”

“It sounded like they made their approach
from behind us, so maybe they’ll be all right.”

He rolled out of bed and pulled on his
clothes. As he was slipping on his cross trainers, she leaned over
his back, brushed the hair back from his ear and quickly kissed
him. They headed out to the companionway. As they rushed up the
steps, the huge helicopter seemed to blot out the sky as it
relentlessly chopped the air to chum. It hovered above the ship,
becoming almost a fixed point. A man in uniform swung out of the
helicopter’s hatch, suspended on a tethered sling.