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Authors: Brian Herbert,Jan Herbert

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BOOK: Ocean: War of Independence
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Chapter 3

It was late morning, two days after Gwyneth set up the Golden Gate blockade. A fog had just cleared over the channel. She swam on the western side of the cordon of sea creatures, watching while a huge container ship turned away from the barricade and headed back out to sea. It was guided by a white U.S. Coast Guard cutter—one of the military vessels that had been sent to that side of the formation from a station at the Presidio, and from another on the coast. Additional cutters patrolled the bay on the inside of the floating barricade, having come from the Mare Island station at Vallejo.

Gwyneth had not made any experiment to see if she could break up part of this barricade, fearing that might confuse the animals so soon after setting up the formation—and the priority was to block the channel, anyway, not to see if she could improve on her powers. In any event, she assumed that the animals would be as stubborn as those in the Hawaiian Islands, and must have already developed their own form of unit cohesion, and resistance against dispersal.

She knew this blockade was getting a great deal of media attention—as in Hawaii, there were news helicopters flying overhead. So far, the military had made no apparent attempt to break through the floating barricade, but she had seen submarines pass underneath, going in both directions, and wouldn’t be surprised to see large Navy warships make their appearance, from either side. She hoped another bloodbath didn’t occur like the one at the entrance to Pearl Harbor, and recalled that a Navy submarine had been about to fire a torpedo at the marine animals there, until she spearheaded an attack that beached the vessel. She was ready to do that here, as well, if necessary.

The federal government was refusing to capitulate and disavow the use of violence to clear the cordons in Hawaii, or the new one that cut off San Francisco Bay. The government also continued to demand the surrender of the hybrid Sea Warriors, and had issued felony arrest warrants against all of them. So far, none had been captured with the exception of Chi’ang and Talbot. In addition, associate members—those who had not gone through the hybrid conversion process—were being questioned.

She met Monique Gatsby in the water off Baker Beach, near the bridge, where they swam just beneath the surface, communicating underwater. The big demonstration on the bridge was over, and the protesters had dispersed voluntarily after one day. But Gwyneth’s cordon of marine animals remained in place across the waterway, continuing to block it.

“San Francisco is, politically, quite liberal,” the actress pointed out, “so there are many people here who side with our aggressive environmental actions. I’m coordinating another big demonstration tomorrow in downtown San Francisco.”

“That’s good,” Gwyneth said, undulating her body to swim slowly. “It sounds like you’re accomplishing a lot.”

“Both demonstrations would have occurred anyway,” Monique admitted, “but Professor Greco and I are adding to the publicity. Last night we were interviewed at a secret location, and it’s going to be on the national news this evening.”

“Kimo will be glad to hear that. I want you to report to him directly by molecular communication. He’s just given me a new assignment, and I’ll be leaving soon.”

“Where are you going?” the blonde woman asked.

“Somewhere on the coast, but he wants to control the publicity on this one himself.”

She looked intrigued, but not displeased. Gwyneth liked her. Monique had never shown any revulsion at Gwyneth’s lumpy gray, freakish appearance, with her stunted fins and arms. And despite the actress’s great beauty, and the fact that she did not have any overt changes in her appearance, she had changed her thinking, and seemed unafraid of any changes that might lie in store for her.

Gwyneth turned toward the center of the channel. “Guess I’d better get going. Good luck here….”

In bed, Preston Ellsworth blinked his eyes and tried to sit up, until he realized that wires were connected to his arms. His head had been bandaged, and he felt a headache coming on, worsening by the moment. Trying to figure out where he was, he looked around desperately, seeing as much as he could while only lifting his head a little. He decided he was in a hospital room.

Three native women stood just outside his window, their heads bowed. He heard their low, muffled voices as they spoke in unison. When one of them lifted her head and looked at him through the glass, he realized it was Ealani Pohaku, and scowled at her. She said something to her companions, and hurried out of his view.

Preston heard a beeping from the wall behind him, and moments later the door to the room opened and a dark-skinned nurse rushed in, a small Hawaiian woman.

“Mr. Ellsworth! You’ve been in a coma for four days. How are you feeling?”

“Not good. I just saw that witch Ealani Pohaku outside my window.”

“Oh, she’s not a witch, Mr. Ellsworth! At least, not in the bad sense. She’s been coming here every day and standing vigil outside your room, driving away evil spirits.”

“Driving them away, or inflicting them on me? How can you tell the difference?”

“She is a renowned
kahuna
healer on the island, Mr. Ellsworth. And besides, I have heard what she and her companions say, summoning the blessings of the gods on your behalf.”

“Why would she do that for me? I am the sworn enemy of her family.”

“I know of your dispute with the Pohakus, Mr. Ellsworth. Most everyone around Wanaao does, but I assure you, Ealani cares more about people than land. She wants you to recover.”

Preston was stunned, watched as the nurse checked the instruments that showed his vital signs and other information.

“I have a headache,” he said.

She leaned over him, examined his eyes and face. “You look a little pale, but your vitals are good.”

He grimaced. “I haven’t had a hangover in years, but that’s what my head feels like right now.”

“At least you’re feeling something,” she said. “That’s a good sign, considering your head injury. The bullet shattered part of your skull and badly bruised the brain tissue. We’ve gotten the swelling to go down, and that’s part of the reason you’re doing better—along with help from the spirit world, of course.”

“Can you help me sit up?”

“Not until the doctor gives the okay. I’m sending for him now….”

When the nurse slipped out, she saw Ealani in the corridor, and smiled. “It is a good day. Mr. Ellsworth just came out of his coma.” The nurse hardly gave Jeff a glance, so he didn’t think she recognized him. That was not a surprise, because the younger Ellsworth had not gone into Wanaao Town much, and had remained at the ranch for the most part, or on the other side of the island.

After the woman hurried away, Jeff and Ealani entered the room. He didn’t say anything, met his grandfather’s startled gaze, and hurried over to him. They hugged for a long time, and finally the old man said, “You need to turn yourself in to the police.”

Tears ran down their faces.

“I can’t do that, Grandfather. I’m sorry.”

Jeff and Ealani left the room just as the nurse returned, accompanied by the tall, dark-skinned Dr. Taj Chandrapur, her grandfather’s personal physician.

After swimming underwater to elude detection, Gwyneth surfaced off Point San Pedro and swam south along the California coast, undulating her oddly-shaped body to gain speed. She carried the young recruit J.D. Watts on her wide back, whose expertise with bubblefish would prove useful on the next phase of the mission. Along the way, whales, whale sharks, and other large creatures joined her, trailing behind, and she saw bright blue bubblefish in the water with them as well. Whenever aircraft or watercraft came into view, she dove under to avoid being noticed, and her companions went down with her.

They had left Jacqueline Rado behind with her locally-gathered squads of white sharks and great barracudas, ready to defend the blockade in any way she could with those predators. In addition, Gwyneth knew the whales and other large creatures in the blockade had their own defensive methods.

In Kimo’s last molecular communication, he told Gwyneth he had threatened the government that he could shut down more ports in addition to San Francisco-Oakland, while also claiming that the Sea Warriors could do more than set up blockades—they could also disrupt other forms of commerce. In a press release he had threatened another West Coast attack today, without detailing what he intended to do. It was an action that Gwyneth had recommended to him earlier, a strike against one of the offshore oil-drilling platforms.

This differed from anything she’d done before. With help from J.D. Watts and the bubblefish, they would have to take special precautions to prevent environmental damage. Kimo had emphasized this himself (and both of them thought the bubblefish could seal any leaks), but he said she needed to carry out the assignment no matter what, to increase the stakes and bring the U.S. government to its knees.

Just off the coast of Santa Barbara on the California coast, Gwyneth and J.D. Watts made preparations for the next big Sea Warrior attack. On the seabed beneath one of the oil derricks, J.D. assembled a school of large, bright blue bubblefish around the top of the wellhole—more than two hundred of these fish. Customarily, they were used to form bubble tube enclosures to take human recruits down to the depths of the ocean to visit Moanna. Now, however, they were supposed to use their unique linked membrane and powerful jaws to form a tight seal around the wellhead—so that it did not leak oil into the water when the drilling rig was detached from it.

That would be the first phase of their usefulness.

For the second phase of preventing an oil leak, J.D. had kept more of the creatures in reserve. This species had dense-bodies and shape-shifting abilities that would enable them to form a long mass with their combined bodies (looking like an extinct, giant torpedo eel) that could dive down into the wellhole, plugging it and permanently stopping the flow—sacrificing their lives in the process, if it worked. Back in San Francisco Bay, J.D. Watts had practiced with all of the maneuvers that he would need, and both he and Gwyneth were confident that everything would work.

The sabotage did not have to be perfect, because oil seeping from the ocean floor was a natural occurrence—but they did want to prevent an environmental disaster that would reflect badly on the Sea Warriors. It was a risk going on this mission at all, but a necessary one—not only to disrupt American commerce, but to make a bold comment against the exploitation of resources in the seas, including offshore oil drilling.

When the bubblefish were in place, forming a tight membrane on the sides of the underwater drill mechanism, Gwyneth left J.D. below to supervise his phase of the operation, and she surfaced with a force of various whales, sunfish, whale sharks, and other creatures. At sunset, she sat atop yet another blue whale and ordered it to trumpet loudly. It did so, making the loudest noise of any marine animal in the world. Moments later, Gwyneth’s floating attack force advanced on the oil rig, some of them on the surface, some of them directly beneath her—and there were more underwater on the opposite side—all to put pressure on two sides of the support structure, as needed, and break it loose.

BOOK: Ocean: War of Independence
12.35Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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