Ocean: The Sea Warriors (19 page)

Two human-sized creatures, both more crustacean than human, scuttled through shallow, sunlit water, surrounded by an escort of thousands of reef crabs and packrat lobsters—the latter species being more common in Australia. But there were plenty of them around here now, as well, enough to add their flesh-ripping and tearing capabilities to those of the ferocious crabs that the fugitives had already used.

Since attacking the sailors at Pearl Harbor, Vinson and Emily had been swimming all night to get away from there, traveling in a northwesterly direction past the islands of Kauai and Niihau, into the National Wildlife Refuge of tiny islands and shoals that formed the northern region of the Hawaiian archipelago.

As time passed, both of them had metamorphosed even more, so that their human appearances had almost vanished entirely, replaced instead by a very large crustacean with a wide cephalothorax combining the head and torso, and a smaller, brightly-colored companion—each of them with paddle-legs that enabled them to swim efficiently through the sea, but not fast by the standards of ocean creatures such as great barracudas, great white sharks, or giant squids. The smaller of the two, Emily had stopped expressing sadness over her appearance, and had instead—like Vinson—resigned herself to her fate.

He knew that a massive search must be underway for both of them, but in the vastness of the ocean he was confident that they could elude detection for as long as they wished—if they were extremely careful. That meant avoiding populated areas, and not transmitting any molecular communications through the water—because the Sea Warriors could overhear the transmissions and pinpoint their location. When in the water, the pair used simple claw signals, motioning this way or that, touching one another with a claw, and the like. They no longer considered themselves Sea Warriors; they were outcasts.

Chi’ang would like to send his scuttling minions to spy on the Sea Warriors and on other human activities in the water, but didn’t have the necessary technology to attach cameras to the bodies of crustaceans. That idea had to be set aside, along with any dreams he’d ever had of living lavishly on the land. Even if he found great wealth in the sea—and he had found some additional small treasures—it would do him no good to collect the valuables. They were of no importance down here, except as pretty objects to bring into the light and look at. A couple of hours ago he had taken a clawful of gold coins into a shallow area to examine them in the sunlit water, staying beneath the surface. He had then tossed the coins away when he realized how worthless they were to him now.

Curiously, despite the drastic changes in their bodies, they still had vocal chords and could speak audibly if they were out of the water as they had done previously, though making deeper, rasping sounds with the words. Bright sunlight streamed through the water all around them, and as they moved forward they snatched whatever they wanted to eat—a small fish here, a starfish there, or even an eel, unaffected by predator-repelling toxins in any of the animals.

It would be nighttime before they surfaced on a coral reef or rock formation where they could speak aloud at length—and make love again. So far they had only coupled once, the night before. It had been an extraordinary experience, a melding of human, crab, and lobster mating techniques, a frenzy of passion that he had never imagined possible. This gave him some hope of finding happiness in his new sphere of influence. Perhaps they could have offspring who were larger than normal crustaceans—new recruits to Vinson’s army who could make deadly guerrilla attacks against his enemies.

For now, he and Emily could only get used to their new life and try to make the most of it. A surge of pleasure passed through his scuttling body. His new realm was immense and quite beautiful, filled with the spectacular colors and varieties of sea life.

He felt a surge of fear when four whitetip reef sharks swam toward them, appearing to be curious about what they were. As the gray and white predators drew nearer, Vinson touched Emily’s hard-shelled side and the two of them stopped moving, then made themselves as flat as they could and burrowed down into the sandy seabed. Though whitetips normally hunted at night, they were known to feast on crustaceans and other creatures living in the coral. Now Vinson felt hundreds of crabs, lobsters, and shrimps pile on top of him and Emily without being told to do so—animals that went into a natural defensive posture to protect their masters.

Vinson and Emily burrowed deeper in the sand for additional protection, while detecting a flurry of activity above. Minutes passed, and when everything finally settled down he worked the two of them free, and discovered a very pleasant surprise. The pack of sharks had come too close, and the most aggressive of the crustaceans had torn them to shreds with claws and pincers, leaving grisly chunks and shreds of bloody flesh floating in the water and on the seabed. The prey, by virtue of their numbers and infused with the intense desire to defend Vinson and Emily, had defeated one of their natural predators.

On the crescent-shaped island, Alicia and a small group of Sea Warriors sat inside a grotto, a good place to be on dry land without the risk of being seen from the air. Waves lapped into the center of the cave, creating a flooded area where Gwyneth and Pauline floated on the surface—a pair of dramatically altered Sea Warriors who appeared to be polar opposites—Gwyneth large, lumpy and gray, while Pauline was much smaller, a human-sized, rainbow-hued reef fish. Both had lost their Sea Warrior swimsuits sometime in the process of metamorphosis, as had other hybrids whose bodies had changed radically from their human forms. And neither of them could leave the water.

Everyone in the grotto was talking about the altered physical appearance of some members, perhaps twenty-five in all so far (to varying degrees), in addition to Gwyneth, Pauline, Chi’ang, and Talbot.

“I don’t know why,” Alicia said, “but I have a feeling that Kimo and I will not change any more. Both of us have been in our present states for longer than any of you—Kimo much longer than me, of course.”

Beside her, Kimo nodded without saying anything.

“I wish I could say I have that feeling, too,” Monique Gatsby said, “but I don’t.” The tall brunette sat on a sandy surface with Alicia and Kimo. Thus far there had been no sign of additional changes in Monique, and she had been thankful for that. The actress continued to be somewhat vain, and had expressed a hope that she might return to the screen someday after her obligations to the welfare of the ocean were complete. Alicia had noticed that the attractive woman’s attitude was improving, however, and she had expressed a willingness to accept her fate, whatever it might be.

Other Sea Warriors, including Dirk Avondale, the partially morphed Jacqueline Rado, and the environmental activist Napoli Mora sat on sandy surfaces and rocky protrusions around the grotto. From her spot, Alicia saw the shimmering blue ocean through an opening in the rock, and she heard the water lapping gently against the rocky exterior of their hiding place.

“The additional changes go faster with some than with others,” Alicia said. “And some are so subtle as to almost be unnoticeable, such as what happened to you, Napoli, the slight scaliness in the skin on your arms and legs, and the increase in your strength and swimming ability, despite the fact that you are considerably older than most of the other members.”

“I feel rejuvenated,” he said with a smile, “like I’ve found a fountain of youth.”

“You’ve found an important cause,” Kimo said, “and it has energized you, enabling you to contribute to what we need done.”

The group went on to speak of other metamorphoses to Sea Warriors, such as what was happening to Gwyneth. In her case the changes were radical, fast-moving, and continuing. She was entirely a sea creature now, unable to move about on land because she had lost her legs and hands. Her shape was amorphous and lumpy (still with the large blue eyes and small mouth), and she had fins and flippers that seemed overly small for the increasing immensity of her body, which now appeared to be at least three or four times her original size.

Like others who had changed, Gwyneth had retained her ability to talk in a somewhat human fashion. She could make throaty sentences that were quite coherent, with no sign of the introverted personality she’d had been when she arrived, or the halting way of speaking she used to have whenever she managed to say a few things.

She was speaking now, with her small mouth out of the water. “We need to send a reconnaissance team back to Oahu to monitor what’s going on there—along with a protective escort of aggressive sea creatures.”

“You’re right,” Kimo said. “I can’t stand remaining here and not doing anything, and I’ve been worried about taking all of us back—but I like your idea. You’re making very astute observations and suggestions, Gwyneth.”

Her stunted mouth curled into a small smile, and she said, proudly, “I guess I’m our floating brain now.”

“You certainly are,” Dirk Avondale said, joining the conversation. “And I can’t think of anything we need more. I like your recon idea too, Gwyneth. I like it a lot.”

“We need our fastest underwater swimmers for the mission,” she added.

“I don’t think anyone can out-swim you,” Dirk said.

Gwyneth submerged her face for a moment, then lifted it and said, “Yes, but from a purely logical standpoint I must not risk my life any more than I already have to—because of the importance of the storehouse of information in my brain. In addition, if I were lost, there might be no hope of ever getting the whales and other animals in the sea barriers to move.”

“I think Jacqueline Rado may be the second fastest,” Alicia suggested, glancing over to where she sat on a rock, a short distance away. She had an odd blending of human and fish features in her face, with a shadow of her original features on the snout and wide mouth of a shark. She, like everyone else who was out of the water, still wore her black Sea Warrior swimsuit, although there had been talk of getting rid of all of them.

Jacqueline nodded, said, “I have the advantage of my fish escort as well—the white sharks and great barracudas I command—species that are among the fastest swimmers in the world. A number of other sharks are responding to my directions as well, but the two species I mentioned should be enough.”

“I’m fast, too,” Napoli Mora said, “but I don’t have control over any sea creatures yet, at least nothing special.” He made a face, said, “I didn’t want to admit that my contribution was so insignificant, but I was swimming along the bottom yesterday, and managed to get a few hundred worms to organize in the manner I wanted, along with some starfish—but they were all slow moving, and it took a while.”

“That may yet be a worthy skill,” Alicia said. “Both species are edible to us, so maybe you can become our chef.”

“Yes, our Italian chef.”

“I can train an escort of sharks and barracudas to accompany any reconnaissance swimmers we send,” Jacqueline said. “I don’t think it will take long.”

Kimo nodded. He then called a general meeting beneath a large rock overhang outside, and selected three reconnaissance teams, to be led by Jacqueline, Napoli, and Bluefish Williams, one of the newer recruits who was a powerful natural swimmer. A dark-skinned young man, he had been given an intriguing first name at birth that he’d never understood—until joining the Sea Warriors and discovering that he had a close bond with schools of bluefish, feisty game fish that could act like piranhas when they went into a feeding frenzy.

“I’ll be proud to lead one of the teams,” he said now. “I can do that while I’m waiting to turn blue.” This elicited laughter from his comrades. So far, Bluefish looked the same as he had when he arrived.

When the group leaders got in the water, the sharks and barracudas did as Jacqueline commanded, and moved into protective formations around both Napoli Mora and Bluefish Williams. To play it safe, Kimo decided to send all three teams at once, so that Jacqueline could intervene if there were any problems. At mid-afternoon they took off, speeding through the water toward Oahu, just beneath the surface.

The three Sea Warriors returned with ominous news three hours later, just as the sun was setting in the west. “The Navy has armed frogmen in the water,” Jacqueline reported as she waded out of the sea and joined Kimo under the overhanging rock. “Until we scattered them with schools of sharks and barracudas, they were firing spear guns at the blockade, hitting mola mola sunfish, dugong sea cows, and whales, but not wounding them enough to die, or to break up the formation. The Navy seems to be either experimenting, or trying to soften the animals up for a subsequent major assault against all of us. I took the liberty of infesting the waters with sharks and barracudas before leaving.”

“Good decision,” Kimo said. “Whatever the Navy is trying to do, it’s not good.” He looked at the wiry Dirk Avondale, who stood nearby, and said, “I’m afraid we need to prepare for war, using some of the maneuvers you’ve been practicing with various animals. We have no other choice.”

“I’ve been expecting that,” Dirk said. “We might have done better if I’d been able to bring additional military advisers onboard, but I wasn’t able to locate the right people. Even so, I’ve noticed certain naturally aggressive tendencies in some species, and I think they will serve us well in battle—augmenting what the large-bodied creatures are already doing to disrupt the movement of shipping.”