Ocean: The Sea Warriors (24 page)

Chapter 25

Early that morning, sunlight sparkled on whitecaps that danced off the southern shore of Oahu, making the water look like soft melted gold.

Inside the cordon of large-bodied sea creatures ringing the island, the struggle for access to Pearl Harbor continued. The U.S. Navy, having placed only skeleton crews on their three trapped warships, found themselves unable to stop the Sea Warriors from moving the vessels into position across the entrance to the harbor, stretching them bow to stern and holding the ships in place with plesiosaurs, giant octopuses, and giant squids. Whales, giant groupers, dugongs, and sunfish filled in any gaps that remained on the surface, so that now there were two barriers preventing the Navy from using the seaway freely—blocked by their own commandeered vessels on the inside and by the outer wall of the cordon itself.

On the ocean side of the barricade, Alicia, Kimo, and Dirk swam inside a protective escort of killer whales, with the gray, lumpy Gwyneth riding on the back of one of the animals. Some of the creatures spouted water from their blowholes, which Alicia had always considered to be a beautiful sight.

She saw a flotilla of civilian boats approaching from the sparkling western sea—four converted fishing boats, an old wooden pleasure craft, and a cobbled-together patchwork boat—all with their decks thronging with people, and their rigging adorned with colorful flags. The Sea Warriors had been expecting them to arrive this morning. The actress, Monique Gatsby, had told Kimo that her environmental activist friends from Southern California had arranged for a demonstration. Unable to mobilize boats from any of the Hawaiian Islands because of the cordons, they had been forced to bring vessels full of protestors from Fiji, Tahiti, and other islands, supplementing them with local Hawaiians who managed to find a way to get aboard. News helicopters flew overhead.

As the flotilla approached the blocked entrance to Pearl Harbor, they slowed and put out sea anchors, then rafted the vessels together. When the boats were snugly side by side and tied deck to deck, people moved from boat to boat, and presently two huge banners were hung across the entire width of the raft, proclaiming “RESCUE THE OCEAN” in huge red letters. Activist leaders manned loudspeakers and bullhorns, chanting demands at the Navy:

“Scuttle the Navy! Rescue the Ocean! … Scuttle the Navy! Rescue the Ocean! … Scuttle the Navy! Rescue the Ocean! … Scuttle the Navy! Rescue the Ocean!”

Within minutes, a destroyer outside the cordon steamed toward them. Over its loudspeaker, a voice boomed: “You are ordered to disperse for your own safety. This is an illegal demonstration in a danger zone. Your safety cannot be guaranteed.”

Undeterred, the demonstrators continued their chants, while the Navy repeated its command.

“Kimo, shall I send blue whales and sperm whales to push that ship away?” Gwyneth asked, in her peculiar, throaty voice.

“Or I could help her,” Dirk Avondale said, “using dolphins to push the rudders out of position.”

“I could also try a wave,” Alicia said. “I’ve been practicing the vee-waves, which might work, but maybe one of my mini-tidal waves would work best.”

“Three feet high?” Kimo said. He looked skeptical.

“A little higher than that now,” she said, “and importantly, I think I can generate more thrust. Shall I give it a try?”

“All right. Let’s see what you can do.”

Immersed in the water, Alicia envisioned the largest possible wave—an immense wall of water. Moments later, a wave formed ahead of her that was only a fraction of that, but it was larger than previous attempts, perhaps three and a half feet high and forty feet wide.

Before sending it toward the naval vessel, she tried something new, bringing in the sides of the wave so that it was only half as wide. This had the effect of raising the level of the water by another foot or foot and a half, and now she directed it at the bow of the ship.

When it approached the vessel, men on the decks shouted and pointed down at the water, as if they had seen a torpedo. General alarms sounded and crews ran to their battle stations.

The mini-wall of water slammed into the bow of the ship and—as she had hoped—it did not dissipate or pass underneath the hull, only lifting the level of the destroyer in the water. Instead, as she focused her thoughts, the mini-tidal wave kept pushing against the side of the bow, causing the destroyer to turn completely around. Then she did it again, while sailors ran frantically on the decks, not knowing what to do in response. Now she realized that she had created more than a wall of water; it was like a big, raised whirlpool in which the warship was caught.

When she had the vessel pointed away, she released the whirling wall of water and gave the ship a hard push from behind, shoving it half a mile away from where it wanted to be. When it tried to come back, she repeated the procedure, this time sending the destroyer even farther out to sea—until finally the crew gave up.

Satisfied, she released her mental grip on the seawater, and allowed the molecular energy to dissipate, so it was as if it the event had never occurred at all. In a few moments the water around the destroyer looked normal, with small waves that barely formed into whitecaps in a breeze.

Although the prisoners were in federal custody, the Governor of Hawaii felt considerable responsibility for them. It had been his recommendation to imprison them on a remote Pacific island he’d discovered years ago, during his active Navy days. One side of the island, rising almost three thousand feet above the level of the sea, was an extinct volcano with a fully-enclosed crater. Inside the crater, the government had constructed a large tank with thick glass walls, floor, and roof—a tank they filled with seawater and the nutrients necessary to keep two large crustaceans alive—Vinson Chi’ang and Emily Talbot.

Taking the better part of a day to get there, Governor Churchill hired a long-range seaplane, leaving at midnight and arriving the following afternoon. At the prison island, he climbed the arduous trail to the top of the volcano, a trek in hot sunlight that made him glad he’d stayed in shape. He passed through a guarded security gate, noting that the entire crater was encircled in high, electrified barbed wire. At the center of the dry caldera, the area around the glass tank had guards and dogs on patrol.

A tall female guard escorted him through the compound, and described the facility’s advanced, multi-sensor alarm system. Then she said, “Our government wants to keep these unique prisoners alive, while fully realizing how very dangerous they are. For that reason there are powerful, megaton explosives rigged around the entire caldera. In the event of a problem, this thing will erupt like a real volcano. We would all sacrifice our lives, but at least the prisoners could not possibly escape.”

“That’s comforting to know,” Heinz said. “Let’s hope there are no problems while we’re here.”

“You’re right, sir. We had other visitors yesterday, a team of scientists that took genetic samples from the prisoners and collected observational data. No one seems to understand how the two of them got the way they are, or how any of the Sea Warriors metamorphosed in the varying, radical ways they did. There are stories going around that they’ve been magically transformed by a sea goddess, but that doesn’t make any sense. Still, however they got the way they are, it’s an unprecedented opportunity for scientific inquiry.”

“A silver lining on the dark cloud.”

“Right, sir.”

Heinz considered telling her that all Sea Warriors were not evil, but the Federal Government was close to declaring them a terrorist organization, so he didn’t think anything favorable he might say would be received well. It would probably be reported up the line, and could put him under suspicion. He’d already received enough criticism about his wife working with the radicals as an associate member. Initially, he’d had major disagreements with her over this, but day by day she’d managed to whittle away at him, and now he was able to see the Sea Warriors in a more balanced light. He had to admit, they were making a number of excellent points about the need to care for the ocean. It was just their methods that he found questionable.

The guard led Governor Churchill onto a catwalk that encircled the tank. “We call this the aquarium,” she said, as they stopped at a viewing platform and peered through the thick glass at the prisoners as they scuttled around on the floor of the tank, at his level. Seeing him, Chi’ang scampered over to the glass and glowered. He reared up on his hind legs and raised his huge front claws threateningly, opening and closing the razor-sharp pincers that were obviously capable of ripping a man apart. Heinz stared back, not breaking gaze with the soulless red eyes.

Chi’ang made a sudden lunge at the glass, but Heinz didn’t flinch.

“You can tell what he’s thinking,” the guard said. “God help us if these two ever escape.”

“Then you must make sure they don’t.”

At the Pearl Harbor blockade, the Navy broadcasted a message simultaneously from all of its ships, both inside and outside the cordon, so that it sounded like a stereo effect to Alicia: “The Sea Warriors have formally been declared a terrorist organization, an enemy of the United States. The President, the Congress, and the Pentagon will not be coerced or extorted by a band of anarchists roaming the seas. Kimo Pohaku, the government does
not
agree to the demand you have made through the press. This harbor
will
be reopened by any means necessary, and we will not be deterred by your threat to expand blockade operations to the American continent.”

Alicia had an empty feeling in the pit of her stomach. The conflict was only going to get worse.

“We demand the unconditional surrender of the Sea Warriors within forty-eight hours of this announcement. All human beings who have become hybrids, listen carefully. Like your comrades Vinson Chi’ang and Emily Talbot, you will be given competent legal representation and fair trials. But you must cooperate. You
will
cooperate, or we’ll hunt you down, to the last man and woman.”

“I’m going to respond right away,” Kimo said to Alicia and Dirk. The Hawaiian man swam toward the rafted boats of the environmental activists, with Alicia and Dirk close behind him. Wearing their black Sea Warrior swimsuits, they climbed up a rope ladder onto the main deck of the largest boat. Stepping aboard, Alicia noted that the vessel was weathered like its companions, and showed evidence of extensive repairs. It moved slightly under her feet in the light waves.

“I’d like to address the Navy and the government,” Kimo said to a long-haired, bearded man who held a loudspeaker microphone.

“Of course,” the man said, recognizing him instantly. He handed over the tubular mike.

A few feet away, Alicia saw Monique Gatsby climb aboard the boat. The actress knew several of the activists, and they gathered around her with boisterous greetings, then fell silent as Kimo prepared to speak.

“Now this is
our
response,” Kimo broadcasted, with his voice coming out of multiple speakers on the rafted boats. “I could not get all Sea Warriors to surrender if I wanted to—which I don’t. President Vanness, you know what Chi’ang and Talbot did on their own, as well as the earlier blockade of the Hawaiian Islands that another member initiated when we were only supposed to temporarily shut down the major beaches. We have already shown our good faith by turning Chi’ang and Talbot over to the federal government.

“And now, to show you that the Sea Warriors mean business, we intend to disrupt shipping on the mainland of the United States if you do not cease all hostile actions against the blockades in these islands, in that same forty-eight hours! Because of your continued aggressive actions, which are harmful to the ocean, we have just moved up the original timetable. You no longer have the seventy-two hours that was published in the latest edition of the Honolulu Mercury News. You are losing this fight in Hawaii—this Battle of the Hawaiian Sea—and if we expand our operations you will lose on all other fronts, as well. You cannot win. You will not win!”

Kimo handed back the microphone and went to the railing of the boat, where he looked out at the large, lumpy shape of Gwyneth, who was nearby, still riding on the back of the killer whale, with the rest of the pod assembled near her.