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He interrupted me. "It doesn't matter what you thought, Jim. I'm only
sorry I couldn't tell you the truth before this. But my orders ----- "
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It was my turn to interrupt. "Forget it! But what happens next?"
He looked sober. "I hope we're in time! 'The mollus-
cans are ripe' that's our SOS. It means the battle is going on, way
down there at the bottom, Jim. The Fleet is supposed to be standing by,
monitoring the radio for this signal. Then they're supposed to come
racing up and
----------------------------------------------------------------------
"
His voice broke. He said in a different tone: "They're supposed to come down,
pick us up, and take over in the Trench. You see, the Fleet knew something was
up here but they couldn't interfere, as long as there was no vio-lence. But
we've cut it pretty fine, Jim. Now that the violence has started I only hope
they get here before it's too late!"
I started to say, "I wish we could ----- "
I stopped in the middle of the wish, and forgot what it was I was going to
wish for.
Something fast and faintly glowing was brightening the swells beneath us. I
pointed. "Look, Bob!"
It was a faint blue shimmer in the black water; it grew brighter, and shaped
itself into the long hull of a sub-sea ship, strangely familiar,
surfacing close to us.
"They're here!" I cried. "Bob, they're here!"
He stared at the gleaming hull, then at me.
He said dazedly, "I should have cut off the sonarphone. They heard
me."
"What are you talking about?" I demanded. "You wanted the Fleet, didn't you?"
I stopped then, because all at once I knew I was wrong badly wrong, terribly
wrong.
I knew then why that long hull, shimmering blue under the gentle
wash of the waves, had seemed familiar. I hardly heard Bob saying:
"That's not the Fleet. It's the
Killer Whale!
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They heard my message on the sonarphone!"
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21
Aboard the Killer Whale
The amphibians had us aboard their sub-sea cruiser and hatches
closed. I don't think it took more than a minute. We were too startled,
too shocked to put up much of a fight.
And there was no point to a fight, not any more.
If there was any hope for us anywhere, it was as likely to be aboard the
Killer as waiting hopelessly on the raft.
The
Killer stank. The fetid air reeked with the strange, sharp odor of
the gleaming plants of the
Trench, the aroma I associated with the amphibians.
The whole ship was drenched with fog and trickling, condensed
moisture. Everything we touched was wet, and clammy, and dap-pled with
rust and mold.
There must have been twenty amphibians aboard the
Killer.
They manhandled us down the gangways, with hardly a word. I don't know if
most of them spoke
English or not; when they talked among themselves it
was with such a slurring of the consonants and a singing of the vowels that I
couldn't understand them.
But they took us to Joe Trencher.
The pearl-eyed leader of the amphibians was in the conn room, captain of
the ship. He was naked to the waist and he had rigged up a spray nozzle on a
water coupling that kept him continually drenched with salt water.
He stood scowling at us while he sprayed his fishbelly skin. He looked
like some monster from an old legend, but I didn't miss the fact that he had
conned the ship into a steep, circling dive as briskly as any
Fleet officer.
"Why do you interfere against us?" he demanded.
I spoke for both of us. "The Crakens are our friends.
And the Fleet has jurisdiction over the whole sea bot-tom."
He scowled without speaking for a moment. He broke into a fit of coughing and
wheezing under his spray.
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"I've caught a cold," he muttered accusingly, glowering at us. "I can't
stand this dry air!"
Bob said sharply: "It isn't dry. In fact, you're ruining this ship!
Don't you know this moisture will rot it out?"
Trencher said angrily: "It is my ship! Anyway ------- "
he shrugged "it will last long enough. Already we have defeated the
Crakens and once they are gone we shall
no longer need this ship."
I took a deep breath. Defeated the Crakens! I asked:
"Are they are they ----- "
He finished for me. "Dead, you mean?" He shrugged again. "If they are not, it
will be only a short time. They are defeated, do you hear me?" He hurled the
spray nozzle away from him as though the mere thought of them had infuriated
him. At least there was still some hope, I thought If they could only hold out
a little longer....
Trencher was wheezing: "Explain! We saw you flee to the surface, and we heard
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your message. But I do not understand it! Who is diatom? Who is
radiolarian?
What do you mean about the molluscans?"
Bob glanced at me, then moved a step toward him.
"I am diatom," he said. "Radiolarian is my superior officer, Trencher a
commander of the Sub-Sea Fleet!
As diatom, I was on a special mission concerning the
Tonga pearls and you and your people. I needed information, and I got
it; and my message will bring the whole Fleet here, if necessary, to put
down any resistance and take over this entire area!" He sounded absolutely
self-assured, absolutely confident. I hardly recognized him!
He went on, with a poise that an admiral might envy:
"This is your last chance, Trencher. I advise you to give up. I'm willing to
accept your surrender now!"
It was a brave attempt.
But the amphibian leader had courage of his own.
For a moment he was shaken; he stood there, blinking and wheezing, with a
doubt in his eye. But then he exploded into raucous, gasping laughter. He
caught up his spray again and wet himself down, still laughing.
"Ridiculous," he hissed, wheezing. "You are fantastic, young man. I have
you here aboard my ship, and you live
U4
only as long as I wish to let you live. And you ask me to surrender!"
Bob said quickly: "It's your only chance. I ------ "
"Silence!" Trencher bellowed. He stood there, panting and scowling for a
moment, while he made up his mind. "Enough. Perhaps you are a spy I
don't know. But I heard your message, and I did not hear a reply. Did it
reach the Fleet? I think not, my young air-breather. And you will
not have another chance, for we are now diving toward the Trench."
He played the spray nozzle on his face, staring at us through the tiny slits
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