Eye of the Whale (26 page)

He had only one defense—to fight sound with sound—

He began to sing—

E
LIZABETH WAS STILL ANGRY
as she drove up to the slough, a long line of cars in front of her. Signs indicating that this was private property were posted all along the road. A black security car—not a police car—was preventing the would-be whale watchers from driving or walking onto the levee. Elizabeth pulled off into a field and got out of her car. The sound of metal hammering against metal assaulted her ears.

She started to run to the slough, past the white television vans that were also being kept out of the area. They recognized her and
rushed toward her, grabbing their cameras and assaulting her with questions.

“Why are they closing down the slough?”

“What’s wrong with the whale?”

“Have you determined what the whale is saying?”

“I’m from CNN…”

Elizabeth kept walking quickly but could no longer run through the thick crowd of reporters and cameramen who surrounded her. She was surprised to see that the number of reporters had only grown larger. Judging by the languages on the microphones being thrust in her face, there were now television reporters from many other countries, including Japan. Elizabeth thought of Ito and her unsuccessful attempt to explain her findings to Bruce Wood. She was losing her nerve.

“I’m sorry,” she responded. “You’ll have to wait until the daily press briefing for any news.”

Elizabeth hurried up the steep incline that led to the top of the levee. When she got to the yellow tape blocking off the road, a security guard moved toward her quickly.

“I’m afraid this is private property.”

“The levee road is public access.”

“This area is off-limits.”

“I am part of the research team,” Elizabeth said, looking at the small ring of boats trying to herd Apollo toward the bridge. They were hammering steel pipes that descended into the water. Apollo was clearly agitated, slapping his tail.

“Our orders—”

“I don’t give a damn what your orders are. I have a permit to study this whale,” she said as she continued walking.

“Ms. McKay, your permit has been revoked.”

Elizabeth’s heart stopped at having the security guard address her by name. Still she kept walking.
Who revoked my permit? And who told this security guard?
She needed to talk to Lieutenant James as quickly as possible. Something was definitely not right.

“Ms. McKay, I am going to have to ask you to
stop
.” The force of the man’s voice was threatening, and Elizabeth turned to see him resting his hand on the grip of the gun in his holster.

“Are you going to shoot me on national—make that international—television?” she asked as she pointed to the television cameras filming the interaction and eagerly awaiting a story. A shooting would move up the segment in the nightly news.
Pregnant whale researcher shot trying to protect Apollo!

Then Elizabeth’s stomach dropped as she recognized the man in the aviator sunglasses. It was him: the fake police officer who had stopped her and Connie on the road. She couldn’t move. He saw her reaction and was smiling. The security guard spoke into the black plastic mouthpiece fastened to the shoulder of his jacket. Elizabeth imagined that he was calling reinforcements or other security guards farther up the slough.

The renewed sound of clanging shook her free and gave her courage. She turned and kept walking up the slough, watching what was unfolding in the water.

Elizabeth knew what the Coast Guard boats were trying to do.
Oikomi
was a Japanese method of herding dolphins to slaughter, and it had been effective in the past for scaring whales out of waterways like this. She saw Skilling standing next to Lieutenant James on the orange rigid-hulled inflatable. It was no doubt Skilling’s idea, and while it was not an entirely bad one, she had a feeling it was not going to work this time. Her intuition was confirmed by Apollo’s refusal to move. Instead of swimming toward the bridge, he stayed in the center of the slough.

She saw the stalk of his tail rise just above the surface, his flukes tilting sharply down in the singing position.

L
IEUTENANT
J
AMES
had a throbbing headache, no doubt caused by the loud banging of metal poles that was shaking his skull and his boat.

“Well, Dr. Skilling, it looks like this whale is not willing to be corralled.”

“If this were a healthy whale, I guarantee it would have worked. I can tell you with a hundred percent confidence: This whale is sick and needs to be euthanized.”

“Professor McKay says that the whale is—”

“Elizabeth McKay is a failed graduate student whose fringe research was rejected by her thesis committee. The media is making her out to be the good guy and me to be the bad guy, but I’m not the bad guy. I want what is best for the whales. Dissecting this whale will help us to understand harmful algae blooms and their effect on marine mammals. It might even allow us to prevent this from happening in the future. I’m the good guy, not Elizabeth.”

Lieutenant James was surprised by the professor’s rant. “We’re all trying to help the whale, Dr. Skilling.” His head was pounding now. Through the loudspeaker mounted on top of the orange boat, he called off the small armada banging the pipes, and the slough fell blessedly silent. Dr. Skilling did not say another word as the boat made its way back to the bank, and as soon as they had landed, he stormed off.

FIFTY-EIGHT

2:10
P.M.

L
IEUTENANT
J
AMES
lifted the yellow cautionary tape that was stretched all around the portable and let Elizabeth through.

“It’s okay, I need her,” Lieutenant James said to the two armed security guards detaining her. They had apparently been warned of her presence by the phony police officer, who was nothing more than a gun for hire. But hired by whom?

“I hear my letter of authorization has been revoked.”

“I got the call this morning,” Lieutenant James said, not looking at her, obviously trying to control his temper.

Elizabeth followed his rapid march back to the white portable. “Who is doing this?” She knew that whoever had gotten her authorization canceled was also behind the barricading of the slough.

“The people who own the land.”

“Who are they?”

“Some consortium…they sure have a lot of pull in Sacramento.” Elizabeth thought of Connie’s certainty that the whalers were behind everything. Was she right?

“Why are they doing this?”

“I don’t know, but they are making my life—and yours—a lot harder.”

“But why?”

“I don’t know why. And frankly, all I want to know is how—how the hell I’m going to get this whale out of here.” Lieutenant James, she thought, was not someone who swore regularly or let his irritation show.

“I think I know what the whale is trying to communicate.”

Lieutenant James let out a deep sigh. “That’s nice, Elizabeth, but it doesn’t change the fact that if Apollo is not swimming back out to sea by the end of the week, my orders are to euthanize him.”

“I suppose Skilling and his team are salivating to get their hands on the carcass.”

“That’s not my concern, Professor. Some of the scientists on the conference call this morning said we should drag it out by the tail. Please tell me something I can do instead.”

“That would be a disaster.”

“I know.” Lieutenant James was shaking his head. “I need your help with something else.”

“What?”

“Do the press conference with me? It’s in fifteen…” Lieutenant James looked at his watch. “Ten minutes. The media’s breathing down my neck—they’ve got television stations from Japan and England and Spain and France and Brazil and God knows where else. At least you’ve got some good news for them.”

“Good news?” Elizabeth didn’t think that what she had to say would be seen as good news.

“Help me out, Professor. Tell them what you’ve figured out. At least it’s progress. Maybe it will keep them from making me kill this whale.”

“Okay,” Elizabeth said, “but I need you to help me out with something, too.”

“Name it.”

“Get one of the NOAA or Fish and Game guys to take a water sample.”

“What do you want that for?”

“I’m still trying to figure out a why.”

T
HE PRESS “ROOM”
was simply a podium set up in a field where the wind was whipping around and howling into the microphones.

“Today at 1330 we attempted a Japanese dolphin herding technique that has worked to rescue whales in the past. Unfortunately, the whale did not respond favorably, and when it became clear that the sound was agitating the whale, the operation was terminated. The whale returned to singing its song shortly before the operation ended. I would now like to invite marine biologist Elizabeth McKay to discuss her findings on the possible significance of the whale’s song.”

Elizabeth was standing behind Lieutenant James and took a deep breath. She heard Ito’s voice:
You must tell the world the truth.
She stepped up to the podium as if ascending the gallows. She heard the rapid-fire shutters of the photojournalists. The cameramen were jockeying for position; even though it was still day, they had their bright lights shining on her.

“I want to begin by saying that my findings remain preliminary at best. Nonetheless, I have found social sounds embedded in the whale’s song, which in and of itself is unusual. These social sounds are functioning like a refrain in the song. One of these sounds is a danger call, and the other is a contact call used particularly for calves.”

“What do these sounds mean?”

“They translate roughly as ‘Babies in danger.’”

The reporters started shouting questions. This was not scientific jargon. This was about babies in danger. Finally, Elizabeth pointed to one reporter raising her hand in front.

“Why do you think Apollo is ‘singing’ about this?”

“I don’t know, but it may have something to do with the fact that whale calves are being born sick.”

“Why are they sick?”

“Again, we don’t know for sure, but it seems that pollution and chemical contamination may be at least partly responsible.”

“You really expect us to believe that whales talk to each other about pollution?” It was the
Sacramento Times
reporter Bruce Wood.

Before she could answer, a newscaster asked, “Are whales really that intelligent?”

Elizabeth thought about what Professor Maddings had once said:
The most accurate measure of intelligence is simply the ability to survive, and by this standard, human intelligence remains an unproven evolutionary experiment.

“How intelligent whales are is not yet clear,” Elizabeth finally said. “Given that humans are the ones creating the pollution, I guess some might also wonder how intelligent
we
are.”

The reporters laughed.

“Thank you very much,” Elizabeth said as she stepped back from the podium. Lieutenant James escorted her away from the press. Elizabeth looked out at the whale, who surfaced and exhaled with a mighty white cloud of mist.
Why won’t you leave, Apollo?

FIFTY-NINE

E
LIZABETH NO LONGER
felt safe at the slough. The police and other enforcement officers were increasingly scarce, replaced by private security personnel. She remembered how one had tried to steal her cell phone and knew she would be safer at home. Maybe Connie was right. Maybe the whalers did see Apollo as a public relations nightmare and were trying to shut her down.

“Elizabeth McKay, if I am not mistaken.” Elizabeth turned around and was surprised to hear that the British accent belonged to a tall Japanese man with gray hair. “May I have a word with you?”

“I’m not doing any more press interviews today.”

“I’m not with the press; I’m with the Japanese Fisheries Development Department. You may know we are one of the supporters of the Japanese Cetology Research Center.” Elizabeth knew the name of this infamous “research” institution. It was responsible for overseeing what it called scientific whaling, but most people believed it was a pretext for the Japanese whaling industry to continue hunting despite the ban on commercial whaling. The whales that were killed for research were then carved up and sold on the Japanese market.

“Yes, I’m quite familiar with the JCRC’s reputation.”

“Don’t believe everything you’ve heard. We are expanding the center to examine issues of whale intelligence and would like to offer you a position.”

“You’re kidding.”

“The starting salary is two hundred thousand dollars a year, with an almost unlimited budget.”

“Isn’t that a somewhat unusual offer to a graduate student who doesn’t even have a Ph.D.?”

“The entire resources of the whale fleet will be at your disposal.”

“So I can record the distress sounds of dying whales?” Elizabeth said, turning to leave.

“Ms. McKay, whaling is inevitable in our emptying oceans. You can help us to make it more humane.” Kazumi was following behind her.

“I’m not interested in being the doctor at the extermination camp.”

“Ms. McKay, we may be able to help you with your candidacy.”

“Can you? Were you responsible for getting me kicked out?”

“We have some influence at the university and may be able to reverse what was no doubt a hasty decision.”

Elizabeth could not believe what she was hearing. Connie had been right. “Did you also get my research permit revoked?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

She opened the door to the station wagon.

“All we are asking in return for our help is the package that Teo Juval brought you.”

“I don’t know what
you
are talking about.”

K
AZUMI WATCHED
E
LIZABETH
drive away. She was even more beautiful in person than she had been in the magazine. He was sorry about what now would be necessary. Kazumi pressed the speed dial number on his cell phone. He had only one bar, but the call connected.