The Whale Song Translation: A Voyage of Discovery To Neptune and Beyond (31 page)

“What’s that sound?” Half-asleep, Dmitri squinted into the twilight. Melanie pointed to starboard and he turned his head, startled by the pair of dolphins that squealed enthusiastically and flew through the air like airborne torpedoes, pacing the boat.

He stood, pulling Melanie along with him, and shivered in the chill of the brisk morning breeze. Leaning over the railing, he thrilled to the sight of a pod of dolphins riding the bow wake, like a winged formation of surfers. The cetacean escort party hurdled alongside the
Research in Paradise
: taking turns leaping out of the water, jabbering at them, and cavorting about like the happiest creatures in the sea.

Dmitri danced across the pitching deck to the stairs. “Hey everybody,” he called. “Get topside. We’ve got company.”

Seema was the first to arrive. “Just listen to them, those whistles and clicks.” The words raced from her mouth at twice the rate of her normal speech. “They sound like they’re talking to us in an alien language.”

“It would be fascinating to analyze their voices with Speakeasy,” replied Dmitri. He brushed the sleep from his eyes. “John Lilly studied their behavior and vocalizations for over thirty years. It’s obvious they’re a very intelligent species. The problem is that, just like the humpbacks, no one’s broken the code to their language. How about it, team? Depending upon today’s outcome, there might be another interspecies communication opportunity here next year.”

“Sounds cool, boss,” replied Andrew, “but shouldn’t we finish this experiment first?”

Andrew’s comment resurrected the concerns gnawing at the edges of Dmitri’s sleep-deprived brain. Despite everyone’s best intentions, maybe they had fooled themselves. Although Spelvin had claimed an 85% confidence factor in his analytical approach, there were many compelling reasons to doubt the validity of the whale game theory. It could be nothing more than a glorious fallacy. Had his desire to validate McPinsky distorted his objectivity? And this mission, fraught with unknown consequences and possibly placing Seema and Andrew in harm’s way, was now his responsibility. He hoped Lila’s intuition was correct: that Chris Gorman was a forgiving guy who valued the fate of the humpbacks more than his own authority.

Through a fog of fatigue, Dmitri heard the animated conversations of his shipmates and their enjoyment of the gymnastic exploits of their dolphin entourage. He faced the horizon and saw the pinkish glow of daybreak intensifying with each moment. It was the dawn of a glorious new day. How could he not be infused with a renewed spirit of hope and anticipation?

“This is a really good omen for today’s experiment,” said Lila. “Normally a pod of dolphins won’t track a boat longer than ten minutes.”

Seema appeared hypnotized. “It’s the first time I’ve seen the rosy fingers of dawn reflected off the water in the middle of the ocean.”

“I’m impressed,” replied Lila, turning to face Dmitri. “Seema’s not only a scientist and a musician, she quotes Homer.”

Seema blushed. “The
Odyssey
is my favorite book.”

Dmitri smiled. Since everyone was in such good spirits, he’d try his best to remain positive. “Hopefully, like the
Odyssey
, our voyage will lead to epic adventures and discoveries.”

Melanie wrapped her arms around Dmitri’s waist. “It’s nice to see you in such a good mood so early in the morning.”

“The sunrise reminds me of the
Ten Commandments,
” said Greg, “where Moses dips the divine staff into the Nile and turns the waters red.”

“Interesting you’d invoke a Biblical image at this moment,” said Lila.

“Well,” replied Greg, “if you think about what we’re attempting today, it does smack a bit of the miraculous.”

Melanie nodded. “Speaking of miracles,” she said, “did you notice how the sea has calmed down? That storm must have headed in the opposite direction.”

“Hooray!” Andrew shouted.

“Well, Sister Seema,” said Lila. “Did you know that PICES offers humpback whale research internships to motivated individuals? You can enjoy many more ocean sunrises if you join us. The perk is that we do humpback research all over the globe.”

“Very cool,” replied Andrew. “I’d like to compare and contrast the mating habits of humpbacks in the Indian and Pacific Oceans.”

“I’m sure you’d like to study the mating habits of many species,” replied Lila.

“Is that an invitation?”

“Hey, Lila,” interjected Dmitri. “Are you trying to steal my graduate students?”

“If today‘s experiment yields promising data,” replied Lila, “maybe your entire team could relocate to Maui for an extended research-in-paradise-sabbatical joint venture with PICES.”

Before Dmitri could reply, he was blinded by a spectacular burst of light. A sliver of sunlight flashed above the horizon.

“Look!” shouted Andrew. “Out here away from the land, where it’s perfectly flat in all directions, you can almost see the horizon’s curvature.” He whirled around and swept his arms in a wide circle.

“You’re right. It’s like we’re in earth orbit.” Greg squinted at the solar disk. “This is just blissed-out sensory overload.”

As the dolphins danced away into the sunrise, a one-hundred-decibel symphony boomed from the ship’s public address system. Dmitri wobbled across the deck to the helm.

“Thanks, Tony,” said Dmitri. “I always loved this music. It’s so heroic, so inspirational, and the perfect music for our voyage. I forget what it’s called?”

“It’s the Richard Rogers theme music for the World War II naval documentary TV series,
Victory at Sea
.”

“Now I remember. My granddad said it was his favorite fifties TV show. I’ve seen a couple of reruns.”

“My grandpa’s too,” said Tony. “The best ocean battle footage ever captured . . . the allies fighting for their lives against the Japanese and Germans. Whenever I get the chance, I celebrate the dawn of a new day by plugging my iPod into the ship’s sound system and playing ‘Victory at Sea.’ It just puts me in the zone.”

“I couldn’t agree with you more,” murmured Dmitri. After all, he thought, they’d just triumphed over the enemies of enlightenment at the boat dock.

“Look at the dolphins!” Seema’s ebullient voice grabbed everyone’s attention.

The dolphins had returned to the boat, performing a
Cirque du Soleil
-like series of acrobatics in synchrony to the music. Lila, always the marine biologist, grabbed her video cam. “Truly a universal language,” she said to Seema standing beside her. “We’re entranced by the songs of the humpbacks and the dolphins are entranced by our music. This choreographed response is something extraordinary. I’ve got to discuss it with Chris. It could open up a whole new line of research.”

Andrew was downright giddy. He danced a jig around the deck, shouting, “We’ve done it! We’ve done it!” After he’d hugged Seema and Lila and belted out a few choruses of “Sailing, sailing over the bounding main,” he bounced over to the helm, unplugged Tony’s iPod, and replaced it with his own. With the upper deck pulsating to the rattle-and-hum sounds of U2, Seema, Lila, and Andrew joined together, skipping and hopping to the beat of the music. As the boat rocked across the waves, the youthful humans rocked upon the deck.

“Check it out,” screamed Lila. The dolphins had changed the rhythm of their leaping and bounding in reaction to the mixed U2 and Springsteen sound track. They were now performing mid-air pirouettes.

The kinetic exuberance diffused across the interspecies divide. Melanie grabbed Dmitri who thought, “Why not just go with the flow.” With encouragement from his colleagues and spurred on by Melanie’s exhortations, Dmitri gamely answered her elegant sashays and paso doble with his twists, twirls, and twitches. Even Greg leapt into the action, wowing everyone with his stylistic impression of a Michael Jackson “moonwalk.” Not to be outdone, Dmitri laughed and stumbled across the deck, trying to mimic Greg’s fancy footwork. Remembering painful, past escapades on the dance floor, he knew his act was a poor imitation. This time, however, it didn’t bother him a bit.

H
ATCHING A
P
LAN

Southern California

While the members of the Research in Paradise team enjoyed their victory-at-sea dance, twenty-four-hundred miles to the east, Richard Prescott drove to work listening to the morning news. Stunned by the story about the wildcat launch, he cursed Dmitri. The fact that two SoCalSci associate professors and two graduate students had seized the vessel in the middle of the night, without the director of PICES on board, could provide the opening he needed to stop them once and for all.

Therefore, Richard had formulated a new strategy. He’d decided to contact Captain Ned Perry, an old NROTC university chum. Ned was a U.S. Navy officer and currently posted at the Pentagon. Richard drove to the same untraceable off-campus phone booth from where he’d previously called the
Enquirer
. After three rings, Perry answered his mobile.

“Hi, Ned, it’s your long lost college buddy, Richard Prescott.”

“Richard,” replied Perry, “you old coot. What’s it been? Five years or so since we last toured the bars of Georgetown?”

“At least that. You know the old saying: ‘tempus fugit.’ I heard the good news about your promotion to lead the Navy’s Advanced Communications Division.”

“Give me a break,” replied Perry. “That’s old news by now. Surely you have other reasons for calling me from out of the blue. Could it perhaps be related to the hubbub about SoCalSci’s controversial research program over in Hawaii?”

“You’re as perceptive as ever, Ned,” replied Richard. “Then, let me be frank. I believe the SoCalSci and PICES joint venture could prove quite a threat to your advanced sonar program. The Greenies have bombarded you with their politically correct heat about the adverse effects of underwater noise pollution. Just think how they’ll ramp-up their campaign if PICES can demonstrate some new communication breakthrough with the humpbacks.”

“You’re preaching to the choir, Richard,” replied Perry. “We’ve already sunk a fortune into the project, and we’re getting pressure from the Joint Chiefs to deploy the system ASAP. I refuse to risk losing the funding to complete the mission. What do you suggest?”

Prescott recounted the media’s report of the
Research in Paradise’s
nocturnal abduction. “So technically speaking, the vessel could be considered stolen property. There must be some way you could persuade your Navy chums to bring them to justice.”

“I do have a contact in the Coast Guard command structure, but I think that would be overreacting, Richard. Based on what you told me, I don’t believe this qualifies as a theft-on-the-high-seas offense. I do have a suggestion, however.”

“I’m all ears.”

“Didn’t the news accounts of the boat’s disappearance mention scuffling and injuries?”

“You’re right, Ned. That’s brilliant. Why didn’t I think of that?”

“It’s not as if you’re not creative enough.” Prescott and Perry shared a chortle.

“I owe you big time, Captain Perry. The next time you’re in SoCal, dinner at Spago is on me.”

“Don’t mention it. Oh, and by the way, whatever you decide to do, this conversation never happened. Good luck.”

After he’d hung up, Richard hesitated, considering the pros and cons of Ned Perry’s idea. Despite his objection to the speculative theories of McPinsky’s protégé, he had to admit a grudging admiration for Dmitri’s gutsy exploit, an amateur commando raid against impassioned mobs. He doubted his own ability to organize and execute such a plan. Nevertheless, Dmitri’s actions were reckless, with injurious consequences. Richard’s original plan had been designed to minimize media exposure to SoCalSci, surely a noble goal. Dmitri’s sensationalistic gambit, however, had thrust their institution into the national spotlight, leaving Richard no choice. As a student of history, he steeled himself with the thought of a favorite rally cry: “He must act in the defense of the realm!” Grabbing his iPhone, he scrolled to the contact information of an attorney friend, a notorious ambulance-chaser, in Honolulu. Why not? he thought. What are old friends for, anyway?

* * *

How could it get any worse? thought Ned Perry, recalling the maxim: “Bad news comes in bunches.” After Prescott’s call, he remembered the disturbing dispatch he’d received just a few weeks ago from Lieutenant Nina Davis at USSIA headquarters. According to her report, RH-12 satellite reconnaissance video had captured a pod of humpbacks engaged in extraordinary activity in the vicinity of the Hawaiian sonar tests. At the time, he didn’t doubt he could keep a lid on the information, at least long enough for his sonar team to complete their mission. If, however, the SoCalSci researchers witnessed the same phenomenon, the news could go viral and energize every save-the-whales organization around the globe. The publicity unleashed by a discovery of this magnitude would undoubtedly jeopardize the sonar program. If Prescott couldn’t stop the nonsense, Perry feared he’d need to take command of the situation and enact the necessary countermeasures.