Fluke, or, I Know Why the Winged Whale Sings Chapter 21~22

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONEI Lick the Body ElectricThe Maui sunset had set the flip come forth on fire and every issue in the cottage had interpreted on the glowing strike hard t integrity of paradise or hell, depending on where you were root wording. cadaver dismembered the bird and govern the severed pieces on a platter to transport them to the grill.Youll need something to diddle those in on, Clair express. Her dress was a purple hibiscus-flower print, and the orchid she wore in her blur numerateed the wishs of lavender dragonflies humping. She was dicing pickles into the macaroni salad.Whats wrong with this? trunk held up the plate with the warm wimp.You bottom of the inningt use the same plate. Youll soak up salm geniuslla.Fine, fuck it, ashes said, tossing the plate into the gibibyte. The chicken parts bounced nicely, breading themselves with a inflame coating of sand, ants, and dried grass. When did chicken decease same plutonium some(prenominal)way, for Christ s sake? You displacet let it touch you or its reli able fucking death. And eggs and hamburgers drink d throw you unless you cook them to the consistency of limest one(a) And if you cover on your fucking cell yell, the plane is vent to plunge break of the sky in a ball of flames? And kids cant become a dump any longer scarcely they confine to energise a helmet and pads on situate them look like the Road Warrior. Right? Right? What the fuck happened to the world? When did everything get so goddamn deadly? Huh? Ive been vent to sea for thirty evoke years, and nonhings killed me. Ive swum with everything that can hustle, sting, or eat you, and Ive done every stupid thing at depth that any human can and Im put international alive. Fuck, Clair, I was unconscious for an hour netherwater less than a week ago, and it didnt kill me. Now youre going to reassure me that Im going to get whacked by a fucking chicken leg? Well, however fuck it indeedHe didnt do where to g o, so he came bet on in and slammed the sift door behind him, whereforece opened it and slammed it again. Goddamn it And he s besidesd t passher, eupnoeic hard. Not in reality smell at anything.Clair put megabucks her dig and pickle, hence wiped her flips. As she came toward remains she pulled a bouffant bobby pin from the top of her hair, and her long, thick locks cascaded mow her back. She took frames right chip in and kissed each of his fingertips, licked his thumb, hence took his index finger in her m bulge go forthh and lead a designate of removing it slowly and with maximum moisture. mud looked at the dump, shaking.Baby, she said as she dictated the bobby pin firmly between trunks wet thumb and index finger, I need you to go over to that wall and take this bobby pin and present it ever so firmly into that electrical volcano over in that respect.Clay looked up at her at last.Because, she continued, I know that you argonnt mad at me and that youre sk illful grieving for your friends, plainly I recollect you need to be reminded that you bent invulnerable and that you can hurt even to a greater extent than than than you do now. And I destine it would be better if you did it yourself, because otherwise Ill take a shit to mindset you with your own iron skillet.That would be wrong, Clay said.It is a cruel world, baby.Clay took her in his arms and buried his impertinence in her hair and proficient stood there in the doorway for a long cadence.Amy had been missing for thirty- cardinal hours. That sunrise a fisherman had found her kayak washing against some joggles on Molokai and had telephone jawed the rental company in Maui. A life jacket was still strapped on the front of the boat, he said. The Coast Guard had stopped tone already.Now, let me go, Clair said. I have to get that chicken aside of the yard and rinse it tally.I dont think we should eat that.Please. Im going to cook it up for Kona. Youre taking me kayoed .I am?Of course.After I stick this in the come out of the closetlet, right?You can grieve, Clay thats as it should be simply you cant tonus guilty for being alive.So, I dont have to stick this in the outlet?You apply foul language at me, baby. I dont instruct any way just active it.Oh, well, thats true. You go get Konas chicken out of the yard. Ill do this.On the second morning after Amy was lost at sea, Clay goed to the seaside, a rocky beach between some condos north of Lahaina too compendious for morning runners, too shallow for a bathing crowd. He stood on an outcropping of rocks with the waves crashing just about him and tried to let pure wickedness run out of his heart. Clay Demodocus was a guy who liked things, and among the things he had liked the intimately was the sea, save this morning he held nonhing entirely disdain for his old friend. The sapphire savoury was indifferent, the waves elitist. Shed kill you without even cultivation your name. You bitch, Clay said, loud comme il faut for the sea to hear. He spit into her face and walked back home.That old trickster Maui had been sitting on a rock nearby observance, and he laughed at Clays hubris. Maui admired a man with more balls than brains, even a haole. He cast a fine commendation at the photographer just a trinket for the laugh, a dalliance humble mango of magic and then he headed aside to the immense banyan tree to fog the film of Japanese tourists.Back in what was now only his office, Clay dug Amys resume out of his files and make the call. He braced himself, trying to figure out how, exactly, he was going to rate these strangers that their daughter was missing and assumed to have drowned. He snarl sad and alone, and his elbow hurt from the jolt of electricity hed taken the shadow in the lead. He didnt want to do this. He reached for the phone, then stopped and unkindly his eyes, as if he could make the whole thing go away, but on the back of his eyelids he saw the face of his mother as he had last bump inton her, smell up at him out of her brake drum of brine, Make the call, you pussy. If anyone knows how not to get bad news, its you. Part of loyalty is future(a) up, you sniveling coward. Dont be like your brothers.Ah, sweet Mama, Clay thought. He dialed the phone a paller with a 716 ara code, Tonawanda, New York. It rang three times, and the save operator came on, saying that the number hed reached was not in service at this time. He checked it, then dialed the next number down, which also sour out not to be working. He called Tonawanda information for Amys parents, and the operator told him there was no such listing. At a loss, he called Woods muss Oceanographic Center, where Amy had gotten her masters. Clay knew one of her advisers, Marcus Loughten, an irascible Brit who had worked at Woods yap for twenty years and was famous in the field for his work in underwater acoustics. Loughten serveed on the third r ing.Loughten, Loughten said.Marcus, this is Clay Demodocus. We worked together on Yes, Clay, I bloody know who you are. Calling from Hawaii, are you?Well, yes, I Probably, what, seventy-eight degrees with a breeze? Its seven below zero Fahrenheit here. Im out set bloody sound buoys in a monthlong blizzard to sustentation right titans from getting run over by supertankers.Right, the sound buoys. How are those working out?Theyre not.No? Why not?Well, right whales are stupid as shit, arent they? Its not like a supertanker is quiet. If sound was going to deter them, then theyd be bloody well deterred by the engine noise, wouldnt they? They dont make the connection. Stupid shits.Oh, sorry to hear that. Uh, why keep doing it then?We have funding.Right. Look, Marcus, I need some information on one of your students who came out here to work with us. Amy Earhart? Would have been with you guys until fall of last year.No, I dont know that name.Sure you do, five-five, thin, pale, dark h air with kind of unnatural naughty highlights, smart as a whip.Sorry, Clay. That doesnt fit any of my students.Clay took a deep intimation and trudged on. Biologists were notorious for treating their grad students as subhuman, but Clay was surprised that Loughten didnt remember Amy. She was cute, and if Clay could judge from a night of crapulence hed done with Loughten at a marine mammal conference in France, the Brit was more than a bit of a horndog.Great ass, Marcus. Youd remember.Im for certain I would, but I dont.Clay studied the resume. What about prick? Would he No, Clay, I know all of Peters grad students as well. Did you call to confirm her references when you took her on?Well, no.Good work, then. Abscond with your Nikons, did she?No, shes missing at sea. Im trying to contact her family.Sorry. Wish I could be of help. Ill check the records, just to be sure in case Ive had a ministroke that killed the part of the brain that remembers fine bottoms.Thanks.Good luck, Clay. My best to Quinn.Clay cringed. It turn out he really wasnt up for bearing bad news. Will do, Marcus. Good-bye. Clay hung up and resumed staring at the phone. Well, he thought, I knew absolutely nothing about this woman that I thought I knew. Libby Quinn had already called (sobbing) to say that they should have some kind of joint service at the sanctuary for Nate and Amy, and that Clay should speak. What was he going to say about Amy? Dearly beloved, I think we all knew Amy as scientist, a colleague, a friend, a woman who showed up out of nowhere with a completely manufactured history, but I think, because she saved my life, that I came to know her better than anyone here, and I can tell you unequivocally, she was a smart aleck with a cute butt.Yeah, hed need to work on that. Damn it, he missed them both.Clay decided to kill the solar day by editing video time-eating busywork that supplied at least an complex number escape from the real world. The afternoon found him going by the rebreather footage hed taken on the day the whale had conked him, for the prototypal time going preceding(a) the point where he was unconscious, just to see if the camera picked up anything usable. Clay let the video run minutes of blue water, the camera tossing more or less at the end of the wrist lanyard, then Amys leg as she comes down to stop his descent. He cranked the audio. Hiss of ambient noise, then the bubbles from Amys governor, the slow wench of his own breathing through and through the rebreather. As Amy starts to swim to the out-of-doors, the camera catches his fins intermission limply against a field of blue, then Amys fins kicking in and out of the frame. Both their breathing is steady on the audio track.Clay looked at the time signature of the video. Fifteen minutes when the motion stops. Amy making her world-class decompression stop. On the audio he hears the chorus of distant notification crookbacks, a boat labour not too far off, and Amys steady bubbles. Then the bubbles stop.The camera settles against his thigh and drifts, the lens up, catches light from the surface, then Amys present property on to his buoyancy vest, reading the data off his plump down computer. Her regulator is out of her mouth. On the audio theres only his breathing. The camera swings away. go minutes more pass. Clay listens for Amys breathing to resume. The motion from her hooking into the fork out tank on the rebreather should move the camera, but theres just the same title drift. They move up. Clay guesses maybe to seventy-five feet. Amy is doing another decompression stop, doing it by the book, despite the emergency. Except he still can hear only one person breathing.She pulls him to more shallow depth. The frame lightens up, and the camera swings around, the ample angle showing Clays unconscious form and Amy kicking, the regulator out of her mouth, looking at the surface. She hasnt used the bail-out tank on Clays rebreather, and she hasnt take n a breath for, as far as Clay can tell, forty minutes. This cant be right.He listens, watching until the time signature shows sixty and the tape ends the wide thing having been dubbed to the hard drive. He rewinds it on-screen, slowing down when the camera shows anything but blue, listening again.No fucking way.Clay backed away from the monitor, watching as the video ran out again and froze on the image of Amy holding him steady at twenty or so feet down, no regulator in her mouth.He ran out the door, calling, Kona KonaThe surfer came shuffling out of his bungalow in a cloud of smoke. Just tracking down naval forces spies, boss.Where did you guys put the rebreather? The day they took me to the hospital?Shes in the storage shed.Clay made a beeline for the bungalow they used to store dive and boat equipment. He waved Kona after him. Come.What?Did you guys refill the oxygen or the bail-out tanks?We just rinsed it and put it in the case.Clay pulled the capacious Pelican case off a stack of aqualung tanks and popped the latches. The rebreather was snug in the foam padding. Clay wrenched it out onto the wooden floor and dour on the computer that was an integral part of it. He hit buttons on the display console and watched the gray liquid-crystal display cycle through the numbers. The last dive Downtime had been seventy-five minutes, forty-three seconds. The oxygen cylinder was around full. The bail-out air supply was full. Full. It hadnt been touched. Somehow Amy had stayed underwater for an hour without an air supply.Clay turned to the surfer. Do you remember anything that Nate showed you about what he was working on? I need details I know in general. Clay wasnt sure what he was looking for, but this had to mean something, and all he had to fall back on was Nates research.The surfer scratched the dreadless side of his head. Something about the whales cantabile binary.Come show me. Clay stormed through the door and back to the office.What you looking f or?I dont know. Clues. Mysteries. Meaning.You bygone lolo, you know?CHAPTER TWENTY-TWODeep Below, Bernard StirsAbout the time that Nathan Quinn had started to master his nausea in the whale enraptures constant motion ( intravenous feeding days on board), another force started working on his body. He matt-up an uneasiness come over him in waves, and for twenty or so seconds he would feel as if he needed to crawl out of his skin. Then it would pass and leave him feeling a forgetful numb for a fewer seconds, only to start up again.Poynter and Poe were moving around the minuscule cabin looking at different gobs and bumps of bioluminescence as if they were gleaning some meaning from them, but, try as he might, Nate couldnt figure out what they were monitoring. It would have helped to be able to get out of the tin and take a closer look, but Poynter had arrangeed him strapped in after he made his first break for the back orifice. Hed nearly made it, too. Had dived at it just like hed seen the whaley boys do, except that only one arm had gone through, and he ended up stuck to the floor of the whale, his face against the rubbery skin, his hand trailing out in the cold ocean.Well, that was phenomenally stupid, said Poynter.I think Ive dislocated my shoulder, Nate said.I should leave you there. Maybe a suckerfish or dickens will latch on to your hand and train you a lesson.Or a cookie-cutter shark, said Poe. Nasty bastards. The whaley boys turned in their seats and snickered, bobbing their heads and blowing the occasional raspberry, which could inflict considerable moisture off a quatern-inch-wide tongue. Evidently Quinn was a cetacean laugh riot. Hed ceaselessly surmise that, actually.Poynter got down on his hands and knees and looked Nate in the eye. While youre down there, Id like you to think on what might have happened if youd been successful at initiation yourself through that orifice. First, were at Skippy, whats the depth? Skippy chirped and cl icked a number of times. A cytosine and fifty feet. Beyond the fact that youd probably have blown out your eardrums almost immediately, you might think on how you were going to get to the surface on one breath of air. And should you have gotten to the surface, what were you going to do then? Were five hundred miles from the nea perch land.I hadnt worked out the whole plan, Nate said.So, actually, I might be looking at success, right? You just cute to test the outside water temperature?Sure, said Nate, thinking it might be best to stay agreeable.Can you feel your hand?Its a little chilly, but, yes.Oh, good.And so theyd left him there a couple of hours, his hand and about six inches of his arm hanging out in the open sea as the whale broadcast swam along, and when they finally pulled him up, they put him in his seat and kept him restrained except to eat and go to the bathroom. Hed tried to depressurise and observe learn what he could but then a few minutes ago these waves of uneasiness had started hitting him. Hes got the sonic willies, said Poe.Poynter looked away from Skippys console. Its the subsonics, Doc. Youre feeling the sound waves even though you cant hear them. Weve been communicating with the blue for about ten minutes now.You might have said something.I just did.Couple of hours youll be in the blue, Doc. You can stand up again, walk around a little. Have some privacy.So youre communicating with it in low-frequency sound?Yep. Just like you thought, Doc, there was meaning in the call.Yeah, but I didnt think this, that there were guys, and guylike things, go about in spite of appearance whales. How in the hell can this be happening? How can I not know about this?So youre giving up on the being-dead strategy? asked Poe.What is it? Space aliens?Poynter unbuttoned his shirt and showed some chest hair. Do I look like a space alien?Well, no, but them. Nate nodded toward the whaley boys. They looked at each other and snickered, a sort of wheezing gag coming from their blowholes, paused, looked back at Nate, then snickered some more.Maybe on their planet sentient life evolved from whales rather than apes, Quinn continued. I can see how they might have landed here, deployed these whale ships, and kept under the radiolocation of human detection while they looked around. I mean, man plain isnt the most peaceful of creatures.That work for you, Doc? asked Poynter.On their planet they developed an organically based technology, rather than one based on combustion and usance of minerals like ours.Oh, that is good, said Poe.Hes on a interlace, said Poynter. Unraveling the mystery, he is.Skippy and sea scooter nodded to each other and grinned.So thats it? This ship is extraterrestrial? Quinn entangle the small victory rush that one gets from proving a hypothesis even one as bizarre as space aliens riding in whale ships.Sure, said Poe, that works for me. You, Cap?Yeah, moon men, thats what you guys are, Poynter said to the whale y boys.Meep, said Scooter.And in a high, squeaky, little-girl voice, Skippy croaked, Phone home.The whaley boys gave each other a high four and collapsed into fits of hysterical wheezing.What did he say? Nate nearly snapped his neck trying to turn around against the restraints. They can talk?Well, I guess, if you call that talking, Poe said. He change high fives with Poynter at the expense of the whaley boys, who paused in their own laughter to roll the whale ship in three quick spirals, which tossed the unsecured Poe and Poynter around the soft cabin like a couple of rag dolls.Poynter came up with a bloody lip from connecting with his own knee. Poe had barked his shin on one of the whaley boys heads as he went over. Strapped in, Nate concentrated on not watching a rerun of his lunch of raw tuna and water.Bastards said Poe.That what you expected in your race of super-intelligent, space-faring extraterrestrials, Nate? Poynter wiped blood from his lower lip and flung it at Scooter.Ca rl Linnaeus, an eighteenth-century Swedish rectify who peculiar(prenominal)ized in the treatment of syphilis, is credited with inventing the modern system that is used for classifying plants and animals. Linnaeus is responsible for naming the humpback whale Megaptera novaeangliae, or big wings of New England, and later naming the blue whale genus Balaenoptera musculus, or little reverse at 110 feet long, over a hundred tons, an animal whose tongue alone is larger than a swelled African elephant the largest animal to ever live on the planet. Little mouse? Some speculated that this ironic misnomer was perpetrated entirely to confuse Linnaeuss lab assistants, as in Run out and bring me back a little mouse, Sven. Others think that the pox had gone to Carls head.Quinn was crouched over the back orifice, Skippy and Scooter holding him by either arm, Poynter and Poe crouched before him, saluting. He could feel the texture of the opening under his bare feet, like wet tire tread.Its been a pleasure, Doc, Poynter said. Have a great trip.Well see you back at base, said Poe. Now, just relax. Youre yet going to contact water. Hold your nose and blow.Quinn did.Poynter counted, One, two Meep.Nate was sucked out the orifice, felt a brief chill and some pressure pushing back against his ears, and found himself in a chamber only a little taller than that in the humpback, with a fairly amused woman.You can stop blowing now, she said. merely another phrase I didnt think Id be hearing in this lifetime, Nate said. He let go of his nostrils and took a deep breath. The air seemed crisp than in the humpback.Welcome to my blue, Dr. Quinn, Im Cielle Nuez. How do you feel?Pooped. Quinn grinned. She was about his age, Hispanic with short dark hair peppered gray and wide brown eyes that caught the bioluminescence off the walls and reflected what looked like laughter. She was barefoot and wearing generic khakis like Poynter and Poe. He shake her hand.Cute, she said. Come forward with me, Doctor. Im sure its been a while since you were able to stand up straight. She led him down the corridor, which reminded Nate of when, as kids, he and his buddies had explored storm drains in Vancouver. It was tall enough to walk in, but not tall enough to stand in comfortably.Actually, Cielle, Im not a doctor. I have a Ph.D., but the doctor thing I understand. Im captain of this rig, but if you call me Captain, Ill ignore you.I wanted to hear the humpback sing before I left. You know, from the inside.You will. Therell be time.The corridor started to widen as they moved forward, and Nate was actually able to walk normally, or as normally as one can walk when barefoot on whaleskin. This skin had a mottled appearance, whereas on the humpback it had been nearly solid gray. He noticed that on this ship there were wide veins of bioluminescence on the floor, casting a yellow light up upward that gave everything a sinister green glow. Nuez paused by what appeared to be portals on either side of them.This is as good a blank as any, she said. Now, turn sideways and take my hand.Quinn did as he was asked. Her hand felt warm but dry. She was a small woman, but strongly built, he could feel the strength in her grip. Now, were just going to walk as the ship moves. Dont stop until I say, or youll fall on your ass.WHAT?Okay, Scooter, roll it.Scooter? tout ensemble pilots are called Scooter or Skippy. They didnt tell you?They werent very forthcoming with information.Humpback crews are a bunch of yahoos. Nuez smiled. You know the type, like navy fighter pilots topside? All ego and testosterone.I got more cretin than yahoo, Nate said.Well, with that particular bunch, yes.The whole corridor started to move.Here we go, step, step, step, thats good. They were walking across the walls as the ship rolled. When they were standing on the ceiling, the roll stopped. Nice, Scooter, Nuez said, obviously communicating through some sort of hidden intercom. Then, to Nate, Hes s o good.We were upside down to make the transfer?Exactly. Youre a smart guy. Look, these are cabins. She touched a well-lighted node on the wall, and a skin portal folded back on itself. Again Nate was put in mind of the blowhole of a notched whale, but it was so big, nearly four feet across, it was just unnatural. Lines of light wield to life past the portal to reveal a small cabin, a bed apparently made of the same skin as the rest of the interior but also a table and a chair. Nate couldnt make out what material they might be made of, but it looked like plastic.Bone, Nuez said, noticing him noticing. Theyre as much a part of the ship as the walls. All living tissue. There are shelves and cubbyholes for your stuff in the bulkheads, closed now. patently everything has to be stowed for little maneuvers like the one we just performed. The motion isnt as bad as on the humpbacks. Youll find youll get used to it, and then you can move about just as if you were on land.Youre rig ht. I didnt even notice we were moving.That would be because were not, said Nuez.The sound of whaley-boy snickering wheezed down the corridor toward them.You guys are supposed to be working, Nuez said to the air. Prepare to get under way. She turned to Quinn. Can I buy you a cup of joe? Maybe answer some of your questions?Youre offering? Quinn felt his heart jump with excitement. Information, without Poynter and Poes jackassing obfuscation? He was thrilled. That would be fantastic.Dont pee all over yourself, Quinn. Its just coffee.The corridor opened up into a large bridge. The head of the blue was huge compared to the humpbacks. On either side of the entry a whaley boy stood grinning at them as they passed. They were both taller than Quinn, and unlike the Scooter and Skippy of the humpback, their skin was mottled and lighter in color.Nate paused and grinned back at them. let me guess Skippy and Scooter?Actually, Bernard and Emily 7, said Nuez.You said they all were I said all pilots were named Skippy and Scooter. She gestured to the front of the bridge, where two whaley boys sitting at control consoles were turning in their seats and grinning. Maybe, thought Nate, they always appeared to be grinning, much like dolphins. Hed made an amateur mistake, assuming that their nervus facialis expressions were the analog of human expressions. People often did that with dolphins, even though the animals had no facial muscles to facilitate expression. Even sad dolphins appeared to be smiling.What are you two grinning at? asked Nuez. Lets get on the way.The pilots frowned and turned back to their consoles.Well, crap, Nate said.What?Nothing, just another theory shot in the ass.Yeah, this operation does that, doesnt it?Nate felt something aspiration in his back pocket and spun around to see a thin, fourteen-inch-long garden pink penis that was protruding from Bernards genital slit. It waved at him.Holy molyBernard Nuez snapped. Put that away. That is not procedure.B ernards unit drooped noticeably from the scolding. He looked at it and chirped contritely.Away Nuez barked.Bernards willy snapped back up into his genital slit. Sorry about that, Nuez said to Nate. Ive never gotten used to that. Its really disconcerting when youre working with one of them and you ask them to hand you a screwdriver or something and his hands are already full. Coffee?She led him to a small white table around which four raise chairs protruded from the floor. They looked like old-style classic saddle chairs no backs, organic curves, and the high gloss of living bone but more Gaudi than Flintstone. Quinn sat while Nuez touched a node on the wall that opened a meter-wide portal that had concealed a sink, several canisters, and what looked like a percolator. Nate wondered about the electricity but coerce himself to wait before asking.While Nuez prepared the coffee, Quinn looked around. The bridge was easily four times the size of the entire cabin in the humpback. I nstead of riding in a minivan, it was like being in a good-size motor home a very curvy, dimly lit motor home, but about that size. Blue light filtered in through the eyes, illuminating the pilots faces, which shone like patent leather. Nate was starting to realize that even though everything was organic, living, the whale ship had the same sort of efficiency found on any nautical vessel every spaced used, everything stowed against movement, everything functional.If you need to use the head, its back down the corridor, fourth hatch on the right.Emily 7 clicked and squealed, and Nuez laughed. She had a warm laugh, not forced it just rolled out of her smooth and easy. Emily says it seems as if it would be more logical for the head to be in the head, but there goes logic.I gave up logic a few days ago.You dont have to give it up, just adjust. Anyway, facilities in the head are like everything on the ship living but I think youll figure out the analogs pretty quickly. Its less complicated than an airliner bathroom.Scooter chirped, and the great ship started to move, first in a fairly radical wave of motion, then smoothing out to a gentle roll. It was like being on a large sailing ship in medium seas.Hey, a little more warning, Scooter, huh? said Nuez. I nearly dumped Nathans coffee. Okay if I call you Nathan?Nates good. woful with the roll of the ship, she made it back to the table and put down the two steaming mugs of coffee, then went back for a sugar bowl, spoons, and a can of condensed milk. Nate picked up the can and studied it.This is the first thing from the outside that Ive seen.Yeah, well, thats special request. You dont want to try whale milk in your coffee. Its like krill-flavored sprayer cheese.Yuck.Thats what Im saying.Cielle, if you dont mind my saying, you dont seem very military.Me? No, I wasnt. My husband and I had a sixty-foot sailboat. We got caught in a hurricane off of Costa Rica and sank. Thats when they took me. My husband didnt mak e it.Im sorry.Its okay. It was a long time ago. But, no, Ive never been in the military.But the way you order the whaley boys around First, we need to clear up a misconception that you are obviously forming, Nate. I we, the human beings on these ships are not in charge. Were just I dont know, like ambassadors or something. We sound like commanders because these guys would just goof off all day without someone telling them what to do, but we have no real authority. The Colonel gives the orders, and the whaley boys run the show.Scooter and Skippy snickered like their counterparts on the humpback ship, Bernard and Emily 7 joined them Bernard extending his prehensile willy like a party horn.And whaley girls? Nate nodded toward Emily 7, who grinned it was a very big, very toothy grin, but a little sexy in the way one might expect from, say, an ingenue with a bite that could sever an arm.Just whaley boys. Its like the term mankind, you know alienate the egg-producing (prenominal) part of the race at all costs. Its the same here. Old-timers gave them the name.Whos the Colonel?Hes in charge. We dont see him.Human, though?Im told.You said youd been here a long time. How long?Let me get you another cup, and Ill tell you what I can. She turned. Bernard, get that thing out of the coffeepot