"Follow The Whales"

FOLLOW THE WHALES

by Carl L. Biemiller

Published by Doubleday & Company, Inc., Garden City, New York.

Kim returned to Adam I alone. He was disturbed and thoughtful although he managed a flashing smile for Tuktu and Genright.

“What took you so long?” he asked. “And why did you bring your preserved friends?”

“They fell off a wall,” said Genright.

“Stop it,” demanded Toby, her voice breaking. “And talk.”

Seated within Adam I, and with the deck hatch pulled tight above them, Kim did so.

“I may not have this all clear,” he said, “but Kirl, the sea person who led us here, is a leader of a group called Kirl, the otter-people who make this place their home. They call themselves the Ocean Ones. I gather this means the entire race.”

“They don’t know they’re otters?” asked Genright.

“They aren’t,” snapped Toby. “They’re…uh, ah…”

“The Ocean Ones,” Tuktu said gravely.

“Men in a form designed for sea survival, created by men to assure some sort of a future for humanity,” said Kim softly.

“In any case, there are other communities of Ocean People besides the Kirl, all of them the same physically, I gather, but each group located in other parts of the world hide-outs much like this one, perhaps.

“Now, again, I’m not sure of this,” he continued, “but the race split after the birthing hatch, apparently under some sort of implanted genetic instruction to divide. And each group had instructions to find its own home, a home or place that had been prepared in advance for it.

“I mean that while the laboratory experts were creating the hatch, other men either were exploring or had worked out a set of localities where the race would have a maximum chance to survive.”

“Whew!” muttered Genright.

“Picked a mighty risky seismic location for this home,” said Tuktu.

“Right,” snapped Kim. “And because the people of the hives wouldn’t think it livable even when the hot earth cooled enough for men.

“But they did more, those scientific ancestors of ours. They left a means of education and a store of knowledge at each location so the Ocean People could grow and progress to the best of their abilities in the environment which confronted them.

“There is a vast cavern not far from us. That’s where Kirl took me, and where I met with five other Kirls, sort of a council. And a part of that cavern is a laboratory library complete with pictures of people like us. The Ocean People call them the forerunners.”

“You mean that the Kirl know their own history?” asked Toby softly.

“And much of ours as well.”

There was a moment of silence.

Tuktu broke it. “Well, “ he said, “If they showed you all that, it means that they intend to be friendly.”

“Not at all,” said Kim. “I think I was given as much information as I could absorb because they don’t intend for us to leave this place.”

“Kirl knows we’re tied to the sub. He certainly knows that Genright and Tuktu are here, and even that Cryos are floating around outside. But anyhow, Genright, you and Tuk are going to go out that bottom bubble hatch wearing silco suits and jet mantles to try a trip through the tunnel again. Take the com equipment and make a report. Just get as much information on the open bands as possible.

“You may not make it at all, but we have to try.”

“Lots of otters out there,” said Genright as he suited for the trip.

“Lots of them watching us too,” muttered Tuktu.

“Maybe not yet,” Kim said evenly. “As soon as you leave, Toby and I are going topside to be real visible. Maybe do something about the Cryos.”

“I wouldn’t,” said Toby.

“Well, maybe not now, but we can unload the sled. We’re going to need all the gear.”

“If we don’t get back, you’ll know we were picked up by the Polaris,” said Tuktu.

“Oh, we’ll be right along. I like it here,” grinned Genright.

Kim closed the bubble hatch behind them.

Dusk, if it comes at all, comes late in the high latitudes. There was plenty of light as Toby Lee and Kim unloaded the sled and packed its contents into the hull of Adam I. But there were deep shadows on the water of the vast expanse of lake that poured itself away into the vastnesses of the mountain rings. The peaks closed away much of the sky, but the slanting sun bathing their summits made them seem like a ring of torches. Some of them, indeed, smoked, but from their own internal fires.

“Nothing swims faster or better than the sea otters,” said Toby.

“They are not equipped to climb,” muttered Kim, his eyes on the horizon and the jumbled heights. “They trot around on those rocks pretty nimbly though.”

“Oh, I like them,” said Toby, “really like them.”

“You swim pretty well yourself,” said Kim. “Trot around on rocks pretty fine too.”

“You like me?”

“Loads, bundles, tons…”

“Then why are you frowning and looking at the shore?”

“May be a messenger from there with a message.”

“Like let’s get some sleep?”

“Something like that. After you, Warden Three.”

“You’re trying to make me stop worrying.”

“Something like that, partly maybe.”

“I’ll rub your back.”

“Be very nice, I’m sure.”

Genright and Tuktu moved steadily through the tunnel against the incoming current yet with a good rate of speed, with the jet mantles giving them extra thrust.

They set suit lights to a minimum, using just enough glow for visibility. They held conversation to companionable grunts. They concentrated on swimming, and, being superb athletes, they even made small bow waves against their chests.

They noticed that along some portions of the tunnel the inrushing water did not completely fill the entire bore, that at the top of the stream in those areas there was air, breathable air.

They drove steadily forward.

“Water’s warmer,” said Genright.

“Swim.”

Their lights broke the silhouette of the tunnel ahead of them. They switched to a higher beam intensity and picked out the tiny hole in the closed end, their entrance.

And they heard the swirl of disturbed water behind them. They were overtaken.

“I’m dropping off with the stun rids,” said Tuktu. “You get out and make the run for shore.”

“Don’t kill. Just slow ‘em if you can.”

Genright was gone, and Tuktu was in a tangle of most energetic otter-men. Two of them boiled past him after Genright. He sprayed his weapon tube at random, and three of the creatures shuddered to a limp halt. He dropped the tube and helped one of them, swimming for the tunnel roof and the hope of air. The others not in pursuit of Genright lifted the other two. Tuktu was trapped in huge otter bodies. He had the certain knowledge that any one of his captors could just as easily have bitten one of his legs off.

Genright, skinny Genright, slithered through the tunnel end, jetted for the surface, and with the mantles pulsing and impelling him at high speed, made the rocky shore while his pursuit was still in the oily surf. He kicked off fins in one rapid motion and ran for a break in the cliff. He found handholds, warm ones, for the land was still warm, and scrambled upward.

The Ocean People, two of them, stood on hind legs and watched him climb.

Genright climbed until he found a ledge nearly a hundred feet above the bay. He rested, and as he did so, he examined the communications equipment. It was fine.

Not as fine as that in Adam I, however. Then why go to all this trouble? Why didn’t Kim get a message out? Why, indeed, knucklehead, he thought. He looked at the crag above him. The lake inside the mountain lay at the bottom of a deep crater, and the peaks held it embraced on all sides. Maybe an aircraft of some sort could pluck a laser-beamed radio message from that jumble of interference. Maybe. He had no doubt that Kim had already tried to get word out. Okay, so maybe also, he had some doubt as he realized that Kim and Toby must have known they would be in trouble with the Service. He was not there to speculate.

Genright settled down to his work, the work of the Service and his assigned mission. He spoke to the open band and told his story completely and succinctly. He was halfway through it again when the Polaris cut into his narrative.

Commander Brent spoke. “Start once more, Genright,” he said calmly, “and from when you last reported from the beachhead. We are recording now on all units.

“Frankly, the Polaris has suffered some seismic beating too, but nothing serious that can’t be fixed reasonably soon.”

Genright told it all again. This time he remembered to mention the Cryos floating in the lake. He also mentioned that the cliff at his back seemed to be heating again.

“Fine,” said Commander Brent. “We have it all. Now can you change to another frequency? You know the one.”

“Yes sir,” answered Genright, examining his helmet transmitter settings. “I am now on it.”

“Good. Give me as much as you can about the numbers of Kirl, or your Ocean People. Any indications of their sciences, any sign of weapons, any evidence of formal habitat, any notion of possible vehicles, anything at all to round out Kim’s report of his meeting with the Kirl council.”

“I have nothing firm on those matters, sir. I don’t even know how many of the Ocean People I saw in the lake. Maybe a few hundred, as a guess. There could be thousands more along other portions of the lake, which is a considerable body of water that may run many miles.”

“But you think your party is now in definite danger and could be eliminated?”

Genright peeked down at the strip of beach below him. “I was sure of it a minute ago, sir.”

“What does that mean, boy?” The commander had apparently abandoned discipline. “Either your lives are at stake or they are not.”

“Let me put it this way, sir. I told you Tuktu had been taken in the tunnel to give me chance to get out. I assumed that he had been damaged or made captive and taken back.

“But now I see him with the otter-men.”

There was frustrated fury in Commander Brent’s voice.

“What is he doing, you black and white nuisance?”

“He seems to be helping the Ocean People to drag two of their number up on the beach, and he’s now giving one of them artificial respiration. At least he has his mask over the otter-man’s muzzle and is giving him oxygen.

“Yes, sir, that fella is stirring and moving. Tuktu’s doing the same for the other one. Everybody seems pleased.”

“Warden Two, I am turning this over to Commander Torrance for a moment. I feel somewhat confused.”

“Genright Selsor, you listen real hard,” snapped Commander Tod Torrance. “You mean that you are viewing a peaceful scene? That Tuktu is well, and sort of one of the boys, as it were?”

“Exactly, sir. And I am going down to mingle myself as soon as Commander Brent tells me what to tell Kim about the Cryos.”

“Stay right where you are. We’re not finished with your report. I’ll have a senior psych in to tell you about the Cryos. They are most tricky to handle, and some of them have to be destroyed. Meanwhile we are assuming that you intend to return to that lake with the Ocean People…?”

“Yes, sir, Tuk and me. I can’t hang on a cliff that keeps hotting up forever, and I don’t know of any other place to go except open sea.”

Commander Jiggs Jensen spoke, his soft voice even softer. “Tell you true, Genright. The Polaris might not be able to travel for a few days. We couldn’t come in to pick you up even if we knew exactly where to try for you under the circumstances. We have your fixes, sure, and we’ll act on them later.

“It might be a lot later. Commander Brent has his superior officers too, and he’ll have to make a complete report to them on this most important matter. But remember, for what it’s worth, your mission was a success despite the trouble you’re all in. A new race of man verified…an Ocean People… Do what you think is best, and tell Rockwell he’s still in command. Here’s your senior psych about the Cryos. If he tells you to do nothing, do it. If he tells you what to do, do it exactly.”

He chuckled somewhat sadly. “You’re dealing with the Forerunners of the Forerunners, son. Not stable people at all.”

Commander Brent’s voice interrupted.

“Here are your orders. I know these will be obeyed for a change. You are to rejoin the Ocean People and your companions. You will endure, survive, and report when possible. This area, your area, will be monitored, by fish guts, forever.”

“Yes sir,” said Genright. “I’m going down to join ol’ Tuk and his friends. Out, sirs.”

He clambered down the cliff, missed a foothold near the bottom, and thudded to the beach on his back. One of the otter-men galloped over and sniffed at him, then showed him a vast mouth full of sharp teeth.

“You looked mighty silly up there like a cormorant, skinny buddy,” said Tuktu.

“You’ve got a bang over your right eye I’m glad to say,” muttered Genright.

There was a dull, booming convulsion in the bay. The otter-men squealed and entered the sea. The hydronauts checked out suits and followed them.

The entire band was well into the tunnel when a shock wave of water spurted them forward, and a dull, vibrating thud made ears ring.

“There goes the entrance for good, I think,” said Tuktu into his com unit.

“I’m getting pretty sick of this old tunnel anyhow,” fluted Genright. “And all that glacier scenery gives me the crawlies.”

“Don’t think we’ll see much more of it for a long time.”

“Be other things to do.”

“Right.”

Toby Lee and Kim were on the tiny hatch deck of Adam I when their escort returned them to the work sub. Kirl was with them, his forepaw and leg at ease in the gel splint as he used it to hold the throat mike.

The escort made its report to Kirl as Kim listened in to that sound above sound. Each of their faces were serious, then pleased.

Kirl spoke to Kim.

“You will be of us now for much time.”

“For much time,” said Kim thoughtfully, his gaze thrusting over the lake to where the junior icebergs and their cargoes bobbed placidly.

The hydronauts sat and looked at the lake for hours after the Kirl had gone ashore, probably once more to parley their fate with the Ocean People. Toby Lee and Kim held hands. Tuktu looked at Genright as though he’d never seen him.

It was quiet in the great crater, and there was serenity over faraway peaks.

Kim spoke for all of them.

“What do you know,” he said. “We’ve got a new home, a new people to learn, new manners, customs, language, terrain, and, I think, we try to revive the Cryos just to complicate matters. But you know something else? We made our mission.

“That’s what Jiggs Jensen said.”

“Who’s he?” asked Tuktu.

“Do you see what I see?” asked Toby Lee.

Out on the lake there was a great ripple, and a monstrous back humped into view. Two measly fountains lifted from a mottled head.

“That whale’s landlocked,” said Tuktu.

“Tube Steak, you big sneak in the pay of a bunch of sea otters, come over here and bring your yellow rump with you,” shouted Genright. He gazed sternly at his companions. “I don’t want any of you guys messing around with my whale.”

End of Book Two.

Chapter One	Chapter Two	Chapter Three	Chapter Four	Chapter Five
Chapter Six	Chapter Seven	Chapter Eight	Chapter Nine

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