Rogue Justice (15 page)

"First off, this is all very exciting," Katrina replied. "And after looking at the photos I'm convinced your initial impressions were right. These are definitely killer whales, though clearly they belong to some super species, probably gifted with some sort of mysterious genetic coding we've never seen before. But that shouldn't come as a big surprise, not when you consider over two-thirds of the earth's surface is covered with water and less than five per cent of the deep oceans have ever been explored. I mean we're talking about a great scientific blank space down there. Truth is, we know a lot more about distant galaxies than what lies below our own seas."

"In other words, almost
anything
could be lurking down there?"

"Exactly," Katrina said. "And through the ages, killer whales have survived and thrived, masters of their realm. And for good reason. Orcas are apex predators with a pack mentality; it's why they're often called 'wolves of the sea.' And they sit alone at the top of the food chain; no other animal even comes close."

"Including the ferocious great white shark we see on TV all the time?"

Katrina chuckled. "No contest. Put a killer whale and a great white in the same ring and it's not a fight, it's an execution. Nevertheless, I think it's highly unlikely this new species would even bother with a shark."

"Why is that?" Jia-li asked.

"Sharks are fish. And I'm guessing these are transients."

"Transients?"

Katrina nodded. She went on to describe the two primary types of orcas—residents and transients—with the single biggest distinguishing factor being diet. Residents, she said, ate fish, primarily salmon,
Chinook
salmon being their preferred dish. Transients, on the other hand, preferred warm-blooded prey—sea lions, seals, and porpoises mainly. Occasionally they hunted other whales, much
larger
whales, grays mostly. "And diet shapes all aspects of the transient lifestyle," she added. "Behavior, social structure, acoustics, everything. They also travel in much smaller groups, six or less, compared with ten to thirty, which is typical for a resident pod. So we know a lot less about transients. The two groups hunt the same waters, but feed on different prey. And they stay out of each other's way. It's quite remarkable, really, like nothing else in nature."

Jia-li asked, "Okay, any other major differences?"

"Well, transients are also very stealthy compared to residents, but they both produce a dazzling array of similar underwater sounds—clicks, burst-pulsed signals, and whistles. Some calls are as loud as sirens, and the clicks are used for echolocation."

"Like sonar on a submarine," Jia-li said matter-of-factly.

"Exactly," Katrina noted. "The clicks bounce off objects and come back forming a 'sound picture' in the brain. Again, it's a remarkable survival mechanism."

Jia-li nodded. "Okay, so how long do killer whales typically live?"

"Females average about fifty years, males around thirty. But killer whales have been under assault for years by commercial whalers, and now our own Navy is killing and maiming thousands of whales and dolphins through the use of high frequency sound testing." Katrina paused, rubbed her hands together. "Don't get me started on that stuff, though, or we'll be here all night."

"Fair enough," Jia-li said. And on that note she broke for commercial.

* * *

During the break, Jia-li reviewed her notes, thinking how well the interview was going. Katrina Kincaid was smart, articulate, and easy on the eyes—the trifecta when it came to the fickle world of television. A production assistant then handed her a stack of phone messages, requests for
her
to appear as a guest. There were calls from the network morning shows, evening news anchors, and most of the cable mouthpieces, not to mention Katie Couric, Tom Brokaw, and Oprah Winfrey. It was all a bit overwhelming. Now, however, she had a job to do. Following two minutes of commercials, she welcomed back viewers and picked up the thread with Dr. Kincaid.

"Okay, let's talk specifically about these mega-creatures, if we can. First, their coloring. The killer whales we've grown to know and love have distinctive black and white markings, with some touches of gray. These giants are jet black except for what appears to be a metallic gold slash running down the sides of their bodies. Any explanation?"

"Not really," Katrina said. "Except that there are albino orcas. So why not solid
black
orcas? Think about it. The animals could approach prey without being heard
or
seen, so it probably has something to do with their eating habits."

"Makes sense. So, why show up now?"

"That's an easy one. Food! It stands to reason they came down from the polar region. Killer whales thrive in cold water, tough for anything to penetrate those three-to-four-inch-thick coats of blubber. My colleagues and I have identified several pods living close to the polar ice cap. Maybe the rogues were up there too, perhaps even beyond the limits of the fast ice."

"But they have to breathe, right? How could they survive in that environment?"

"It's just a theory," Katrina replied. "Even in the coldest regions there are patches of ocean that never freeze, but the truth is, I just can't say. Nobody can. And considering the size of their dorsal fins, it's especially baffling. The thing is, there's so much we
don't
know about killer whales. But this much we do: they're on the move because their
prey
is moving. Look, I've been to that region on research expeditions three times over the past five years, and what I saw was downright scary. The climate is on
steroids
."

"Can you give us some examples?" Jia-li asked.

"Sure. Glaciers are shrinking and flexing and creeping in completely unpredictable ways. You'd swear they're almost alive. And the signs are everywhere up there. Longer summers, warmer winters, more intense storms, thinning salmon runs, bears that have stopped hibernating. I could go on and on. And it's getting worse." Katrina leaned forward, formed a steeple with her fingers. "You know, there are scientists who will tell you that nature is fragile. Well, that's flat out wrong. Nature is strong and packs an enormous counter-punch."

Jia-li nodded, glanced down at her notes. "But not everyone agrees, right? I recently read a report from an eminent scientist who claims the sun is the root of our climate problems, not man. He says if you really want to know what will happen when CO2 rises or temperatures change, look at the history of the planet. How do you respond, Dr. Kincaid?"

"I say nature's calling the bet. Look, man has been tampering with the terrestrial thermostat for far too long. But don't take my word for it. Ask the natives. Climate change is happening before their very eyes, in real time. What scientists see from satellites, they see up close. As one elder told me during my last trip,
'The Arctic is screaming, and no one is listening.'
"

Jia-li let that sink in, then said, "Okay, final question, doctor, one I'm sure is on the minds of every person in our viewing audience. What about the sheer size of these creatures?"

"Well, the blue whale is still larger—some weigh as much as 150 tons—but when it comes to pure predators, nothing else in the history of the planet even comes close."

"Right," Jia-li said. "Let's do a few comparisons then." She glanced quickly in the direction of the stage manager. He gave her the thumbs up, meaning they were ready in the control booth. "First, what I'll call a 'normal' killer whale."

The picture cut to dramatic footage of an orca exploding out of the water, cleanly snagging an unsuspecting seal right off the shore. The speed and power were almost incomprehensible. Then a tight shot and freeze frame on the whale, its dimensions graphically displayed on the screen. Length: 22-24 feet. Weight: 4-5 tons.

"What you're looking at here is a mature male," Katrina added. "Females are somewhat smaller. Awesome, isn't it?"

Jia-li nodded.

Another cut. This time to an artist's rendition of
megalodon
, a fierce looking shark with razor-like teeth, fossils of which had been discovered by scientists just decades earlier. Its stats were also listed.
Length: 50 feet. Weight: 52 tons.

"Now this is probably the most infamous carnivore of all," Katrina said. "The tyrant lizard known as Tyrannosaurus Rex." A movie clip from
Jurassic Park
showed T-Rex in all its ferocious might. Again a graphic flashed on the screen.
Length: 40 feet. Weight: 6-7 tons.

Finally, the picture cut to an image taken just hours earlier by the couple in the boat on Puget Sound. Jia-li's heart began to race, the terror of her ordeal still raw and deeply intense. The sleek, glossy black giant had been captured in a spectacular breach, its immense body soaring out of the water like a solid booster rocket lifting off from Cape Canaveral. In the brilliant sunshine the metallic gold slash that ran from its eye to beyond its dorsal fin seemed to glow.

"
This
is leviathan," Katrina exclaimed. "The largest predator the world has ever known."

An instant later the mind-numbing stats appeared on the monitor.

Length: 120 feet. Weight: 100 tons.

Chapter 17

30 March, 7:15 PM PDT

Olympia, Washington

That same evening, Mitchell Chandler sat alone in his study, perusing a thick black binder. The room was large but comfortable, with floor-to-ceiling bookcases along the north wall. Two of the shelves were filled with first editions, many of them among the world's most treasured works of non-fiction. The more contemporary manuscripts were also first editions, every one of them signed. There was an ornately carved cherrywood desk in one corner and opposite it, an impressive ivory sculpture framed by two Van Goghs. Cantilevered bay windows looked out on a diamond-shaped swimming pool bathed in soft underground lighting. Beethoven's Symphony No. 7 played quietly in the background.

Several hours earlier, Chandler had ordered
a member of his inner circle to dig up everything she could find on killer whales, and it had nothing to do with the colossal creatures raising hell in Puget Sound. He reviewed those materials now, zeroing in on the history and controversy surrounding live captures of killer whales, back when such activities were legal. He'd heard of the two main players, of course, but knew almost nothing about them.

Their names were Ted Griffin and Don Goldsberry and their controversial tale began in the mid-sixties with the capture of an orca Griffin named Namu. He'd purchased the whale for $8,000 from a British Columbia fisherman after the animal became trapped in his nets. The whale was then dragged in a floating cage for public display at a Seattle aquarium, long before KOS appeared on the scene. Griffin trained Namu, rode him, and sold plenty of tickets to audiences anxious to see him perform. Almost overnight, the reputation of the killer whale changed from feared and hated "man-eater" into goodwill ambassador.

Chandler flipped through a series of newspaper headlines and photos. The story had made front page news around the world. So did Namu's death a year later. According to several articles, Griffin and Goldsberry had then gone into the whale hunting business full time, plying the waters of Puget Sound and the coast of British Columbia. Reportedly, they'd paid $1,000 for each permit with no limit on the number of captures. And there appeared to be no shortage of buyers. Turning the page, Chandler landed on another photo. This one featured a crowd of well-dressed men standing on a floating dock literally waving bundles of cash in the air. The going rate for each whale, the caption read, was between $20,000 and $30,000.

Jesus, what a gold mine
.

Reading on, Chandler discovered that, over the next several years, the two men had captured and sold more than thirty whales, many purchased by SeaWorld. By the early seventies, however, the partnership had soured and Griffin got out, reportedly because of death threats from animal rights groups.

The activists had denied the charges, yet made no bones about their position. They accused Griffin and Goldsberry of employing cruel and inhumane tactics by playing on the whales' weak points, mostly the family instinct. The thinking went that if one whale was captured, the others would stick around to lend support. Simply put, that meant there were a lot more animals to choose from. Perhaps most damning of all, however, were claims that many of the whales had become trapped during capture. Some drowned, others died in transport, or from improper care and handling. Most within two years. Those that lived longer, the activists had alleged, lasted only about eight or nine years on average as opposed to at least three times that long in the wild.