The Emissary (25 page)

The whales clung to the ship until the helicopter disappeared, carrying Jamie away. Then, just as mysteriously as they had come in to hold the ship hostage, they swam away, releasing
The Deepwater
back to the open sea. It was almost impossible to believe any of it had ever happened—as if they’d all slipped through a crack in the universe and then sailed back in from the other side.

The crew was eager to get home, awaiting instructions from the captain. They were all somewhere between shock and denial, aware that they had lived through something supernatural, even if they didn’t know what or how. They wanted to touch land, and ground out, which was understandable, considering what they’d all been through.

Jimbo was troubled. He stood near the railing on main deck, drink in hand, reliving the accident over and over again in his mind, and hearing Jaime’s words resounding through his brain.
“They’re using you … it’s a lie.”
He couldn’t let go of them. Despondent, Fin sat with his head on Jimbo’s leg. He searched for Jamie everywhere, knowing she was gone, but he couldn’t understand how she’d gotten off the ship. He ran around, checking the docking ramp, well aware land was nowhere in sight. He returned to the lower deck, where he could smell Jamie’s blood on the floor, and
he despaired, whining and crying for her for hours, until he simply wore himself out.

Everyone was exhausted: Doc had drunk only one glass of scotch and had fallen asleep on the couch; Alberto and Domenico were in the galley, throwing together the first meal of the day; Brady and Bobby were at the helm, awaiting orders; and Sam had gone up to his office, with strict orders from Jimbo to leave all sonar and radar systems down.

Jimbo gave the order to head back in to the harbor. He needed time out in the fresh air, trying to clear his head. There was so much he still had to work out. What was he going to report to his boss in Houston? What if Jamie didn’t make it? He emptied his drink into the ocean and then kneeled down, stroking Fin’s neck. “If only you could talk to me, boy.”

Fin nodded his head up and down. He was thinking, “If only you could hear my thoughts, like she could.”

Alberto appeared from the lounge. “Is there anything I can get you, Captain?” he asked. “We’ve got the galley open.”

“You know the drill, Alberto—let’s get some java brewing.”

“Five minutes.”

“I’m headed up—maybe you can feed this guy here?”

“Okay, come with me, boy,” Alberto said, and the two of them left. Jimbo stayed until he felt the engines start up, then he proceeded up to the bridge. As he passed by Sam’s office, he heard him talking on the radio.

“Yes, sir,” he said, “I can confirm that.”

Jimbo listened furtively from the hallway.

“I’m simply saying they were extraordinarily large anomalies, and I …”

Before he could complete his sentence, Jimbo walked in on him and hung up the line. “Jesus, Sam, now why did you have to go and do that?”

“Do what?” Sam couldn’t believe Jimbo had had the effrontery to simply cut off his call with the home office.

“I thought I told everybody to answer no questions—were you not paying attention?”

“Captain, I was only answering a direct question from Logistics. They call me every day—I report data. You can’t think I would disregard express orders from you.”

“I’d like to think not, Sam. That would be a serious lack of respect,” Jimbo replied.

“Sir?” Sam said, quizzically. One thing he’d never lacked when it came to Jimbo was respect.

“Call them back and tell them you found the glitch. Nothing else to report.”

“That was no ‘glitch,’ Captain. I saw these things move across the screen. You’ve got the proof sitting in your desk somewhere.”

“So, you’re still not reading me? I’m talking about a glitch in the equipment. Make the call,” Jimbo said, with authority.

“Captain, is there a reason you want to ignore this information?”

“Damn, kid. This is no time for this. There’s things goin’ on that you really don’t want to get yourself involved in, boy.”

“I’m just trying to understand.”

“I’m talking about shit you can’t possibly understand—do you read me?”

“No, sir, I don’t. Would you mind telling me what’s going on?”

“I’m not really sure.”

Sam dialed and got the home office back on the line. “Sorry, it’s me, Sam. We’re having some problems with our equipment out here. I can’t find this thing: not a trace. But I do have a glitch in my main screen. I’m embarrassed to tell you this, but I think that may be all it is.”

The voice on the other end replied, “No problem. We’ll check back in with you tomorrow.”

Sam hung up with the home office, and looked to Jimbo for an explanation.

“Well done, Sammy. And now do me one more thing—pretend like you never saw whatever it is you think you saw.” Jimbo went to the door. “Just wait for my orders.” He walked out, and headed back to the bridge to relieve Brady and to have a little private think time, telling himself the time had come to set things right.

Sam worked the computer feverishly, still searching to find the images from the radar-tracking screen, for his own gratification. But they were gone—not a trace anywhere within the system. He couldn’t fathom why Jimbo would want to hide something so potentially important.

He burst in on Jimbo, who was just setting himself up at the helm. “Sorry, I just can’t let this go without asking.”

Jimbo leaned back in his chair, tired and weighted down by a sense of responsibility for what had happened to Jamie. Moreover, his mind was working overtime, running her warning through his mind, like a recording on automatic reply. “What’s that?” he said, distractedly.

“Come on, Jimbo. You’ve got the image. There were two huge objects, moving so close to us. I’m not making this stuff up. The computers show no memory of it—like they’ve been wiped clean. What does this have to do with the whales? It has to be related.”

“What the hell do you think you picked up out there, kid?”

“I don’t know,” said Sam. “All I can see is that you’re hiding something, and I’m here in the middle of it—trying to make sense of what’s happening. If I need to hold back information from headquarters, you need to tell me. Shit, Jimbo, talk to me.”

“There are things I can’t tell you … not yet. Just give me time to get my mind right.” Jimbo overrode the automatic satellite guidance system and set his course for the harbor. “I’m bringing this ship in ahead of time. I’ll fill you in once we get there. Round up the crew for me, and let’s roll.”

Frustrated, Sam headed for the doorway. He hesitated, wanting to ask for more, but Jimbo cut him off before he could utter a single word.

“I will fill you in, Master Sam, once we get back to shore.”

Liz sat patiently by the bed, where Jamie was hooked up to every kind of monitor, oxygen tubes, and the intravenous drip. Beyond the natural state of confusion from all she’d been through, they now had Jamie in a pharmaceutical fog, sedated, and on pain medication. She struggled to wake up. Her will was so immense, she was able to push through it all, knowing one thing: she had to deliver the message. At last, she opened her eyes, surprised to find Liz there next to her.

“What am I doing here?” she asked, groggily.

“Heya. How are you feeling, lady?”

Jamie grumbled, incoherently. “How did you get here?”

“I flew in with you on the helicopter.”

“Helicopter?” Jamie was completely nonplussed. She had no recall whatsoever.

“You were bleeding out pretty badly—and you lost consciousness for several hours. Jimbo called for a medivac to come in for you and I jumped on, to be with you. You’re here now, safe in the hospital. Everything is going to be okay now.”

Jamie looked past Liz, through the dividing curtain between her and the next bed. It was backlit from the light in the hallway. She saw a shadowy silhouette of a man, sitting in the visitor’s chair, but there was no patient in the bed next to him. She was too out of it to know if she was looking at someone’s spirit—perhaps a recent passover—or if someone was actually physically there. Whatever it was, there was a darkness to it: an inky, vile energy—just a few feet away, lingering close to her. Jamie spoke in a soft voice, cautiously. “I need you to listen to me. It’s important.”

“I’m right here for you.”

She struggled to get the words out, slurring her speech. “The whales. They came to show me the weapon. There are these towers … do you know?”

“Towers?”

“The oceans are filled with them.”

“Say what?” Liz said, raising her voice.

“They call them the ‘great weapon.’ ”

Jamie touched her fingers to her head, running them lightly over the bandage on her scalp. She was in immense pain. “There is a whole network of them, blasting the oceans … and sonar … excruciating sound waves.”

The nurse came with Jamie’s medications, interrupting them. “Ah, you’re awake. That’s good to see!” She pushed the foot pedal to raise the head of the bed, so that Jamie could sit up, and then handed her a little paper cup with several pills and a water bottle with a straw. “Drink these down for me, now, and we should be done for the night.”

Jamie took the pills as ordered, her hand shaking as she put one at a time in her mouth to swallow. The nurse held the water bottle for her while she sipped through the straw. “I’ve got the most unbearable headache,” she said, squinting, as she looked up at the nurse.

“I’ll get the doctor to come right away,” the nurse replied, and then hurried out to find him. Sudden, acute headache pain was the first sign the ICU nurse knew to watch out for.

Jamie did her best to lean closer to Liz. She was attached to so many tubes and monitors, she could not move that easily. “This is real. The drums … the towers. They are killing the music.”

Liz stood up, and leaned Jamie forward so that she could fluff up her pillows. Jamie grabbed her arm.

“Please don’t let me die again, until I’m done.”

“What? Jamie … you’re safe and sound now. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“Don’t let them kill me.”

Liz gently pulled her arm away. “You’re talking crazy.”

“You know who I’m talking about.” Jamie looked pleadingly into Liz’s eyes. “I’m the Emissary. There’s a whole civilization—a city of lights. A million or more beings. They’re trying to help.”

“Where? Where did you see this?”

Jamie’s words were becoming more jumbled as the medications kicked in. “In the deep.”

“Where?”

“Below the sanctuary. Why do you think they gather there?”

Jamie’s eyes were at half-mast. She couldn’t bear to look at the overhead lights.

“Who? Who gathers there?”

“The whales. They’re the guardians. They’re the … the … musicians.”

The nurse returned with Dr. Varja. He asked Liz to step outside and then moved in close to Jamie.

“I’ll be right outside, in the hall. Right here, I promise,” Liz said.

“The nurse tells me you’ve got headache pain?” he said to Jamie with concern.

“Yes, it’s excruciating.”

He took an ophthalmoscope from his lab coat pocket and examined Jamie’s pupils, shining bright light into each eye, looking for signs of swelling in the optic nerves. To the nurse, Varja said, “Tell them to clear the slate downstairs for this patient—I want a CT and MRI done immediately.” When Jamie told him she also had tingling in her arm, he told the nurse, “Stat!” and she ran out of the room to make things happen with lightning speed.

The head nurse came into the room minutes later in a huff. “Doctor, we have several emergencies ahead of this patient.” She was a fussy woman with puffy eyes and a lot of attitude.

“I said ‘stat!’ ” he barked. Then he spoke to Jamie. “I’m concerned about the possibility of cerebral hemorrhage. We need to run more tests, so that I can rule that out.”

Jamie nodded, in agreement. She knew the doctor was doing his best for her. He had a purity about him that she trusted.

“We need to call your next of kin. Who can we contact?”

Jamie was so spaced-out she couldn’t even remember her mother’s phone number. “My mom … Amanda, San Francisco.”

“Good, we will try to reach her now.”

“Don’t frighten her,” Jamie said.

“Of course not,” he replied. The nurse came in to report they were making room for Jamie in X-ray. “They’ll be up for you shortly,” he said officiously. And he walked out.

Liz returned as soon as the doctor had gone. “I’m so sorry, Jamie. I wish I could take the pain away for you.”

“I need to talk to Jimbo.”

“They’re coming up for you now—I can get him a message if you like.”

“No, I need to talk to him,” Jamie said, insistent.

Within minutes, the orderlies came to take Jamie down to X-ray. As they pulled the bed out, monitors and drip intact, Jamie implored Liz one last time to speak to Jimbo.

Liz stroked her hair. “It’s going to be better tomorrow, I promise.”

After they wheeled Jamie from the room, Liz pulled back the curtain to find her superior, Dr. Emery Wells, seated next to the empty bed, out of view. An emotionless shell of a man, he was the picture of evil—everything you would never want in a human being, much less a physician. He had dark black eyes—no light passed there, and a coldness that seemed to emanate right from
his skin into the vacant space around him. No one that empty could possibly be running warm blood in his veins. He stood up, acknowledging Liz, and they walked out together, without even speaking.