Involution Ocean

Another band of the screen went dead. “One oh one three two,” Desperandum said. “Are they thinning out, or are they just flying into the dead areas?”

I bent and looked out. “It does seem to be getting a little clearer, Captain.”

“Any in the nets?”

“No, sir. But there are several dozen by the radar instal­lations. One of them isn’t moving. Its wing seems to be shrivelled. It must have been electrocuted. Now a thick band of them is coming over the rail. They just hit a radar box and knocked it over.”

I glanced down at Desperandum’s screen. The radar was pointing straight upwards, and its values did not mesh with the others’. There was no longer a coherent image; dots were leaping madly in and out of existence along the zone between the areas on the screen that were covered by the fourth and fifth radar sets.

“We’re going blind;” Desperandum said.

“They seem to be attacking the boxes,” I said. Another area of the screen winked out.

“Yes,” Desperandum said. “They must operate by radar themselves. The signals probably confuse their own flying patterns. That’s why they collide with the boxes. It would be interesting to see how they do it.” Another section of the screen went dead. I looked out the window.

“Only the first, fourth, and fifth boxes are working, Cap­tain,” I said. “That’s where all the fish are, too. The other boxes are deserted. Hmmm. I was mistaken about that elec­trocuted fish. Captain. It’s still alive, and trying to fly off. It’s having difficulties though.”

“I must have one of those specimens,” Desperandum said tightly, shutting off the screen with a snap. The fish rose and fluttered away. “Put your mask on, Newhouse. I’m going to open the door.”

I grabbed my dustmask. “Don’t do it, Captain. You’ll be sliced to ribbons.”

“Don’t try to stop me,” Desperandum bristled. “When I aim to find something out, I don’t let anything stand in my way.” He put his arm against my shoulder and brushed me casually out of the way. I slammed into the back of the pillbox and saw stars. Hurriedly I pulled on my dustmask, then reached out and slammed the door shut.

I heard a flutter. Somehow one of the damnable little beasts had flown inside the pillbox. I grabbed the notebook with both hands and looked around wildly. Something touched my sleeve near the elbow and I saw a red and yellow flash out the corner of my eye. I swung quickly, heard a solid whop and a thud as the fish struck the wall. It slid, crippled and thrashing to the ground, leaking ichor from around one of its fiat, lidless eyes. Its dotted wings were broken, but their razor edges still gleamed evilly in the light from the overhead bulb. It did look a lot like a butterfly. I had seen one in a book once.

I looked at my sleeve. There was a neat two-inch slash just above my elbow, but the skin was untouched.

I dropped the notebook on the crippled fish, pinning it down, and looked out to see how Desperandum was doing.

He had seized a whaling spade from somewhere and bro­ken it, leaving a five-foot metal stub with a flat spade at one end, like a flyswatter. The fish were not attacking him. What few were left were evading him with insolent ease and fluttering languidly off to join their brothers in the de­parted swarm. Desperandum swung at them with all his massive strength, but they floated serenely up and around the edges of the spade.

Suddenly one dipped and swooped near him. It seemed to miss Mm, but suddenly a bright red line appeared on the side of his neck. Desperandum bellowed and swiped at the thing with one hand, knocking it to the deck. Blood dripped from his fingers. The creature struggled to rise, but Desperandum leapt suddenly and mashed it to paste under the heels of his boot. Blood was trickling down the side of his neck and into his shirt. A quick feint with the spade and a stab downed another; he swatted it to the deck. It splattered. Then he rah after the retreating cluster of fish and halved one with the spade’s metal edge. Its head flew overboard. Another fish swooped down from nowhere and scored his arm. With astonishing speed Desperandum snatched it in midair and squeezed it juicily, earning more cuts in the process. More splatters of blood marred the deck.

The few remaining fish were fluttering upward now, gaining height and moving out of the captain’s reach. There was no point in attacking him. It would have taken hundreds of such shallow wounds to drain the gallons of blood in Desperandum’s massive frame.

The entire flock was gone. I opened the pillbox door and glanced quickly at the receding horde. The last few fish were struggling to regain their positions in the flock.

Bleeding, Desperandum watched them recede into the distance. Then he threw his bloodied spade aside with a clatter and walked to the pillbox.

“We have a few specimens now,” he said. “It’s too bad, but I think their heads were all crushed. That would be where they kept their radar equipment. What a shame.”

He walked inside the pillbox and disconnected a few of the wires from the tally box.

I pulled my mask off and closed my eyes. “One of the fish flew in here, Captain. I managed to trap it,” I said all in a breath. I pulled my mask back on and inhaled. Dust stung my nose. I sneezed and nearly burst my eardrums.

Desperandum shut the door with a loud clang and turned on the air filters. “Really? Where?”

I waited for the air to clear, then pulled off my mask and said, “I think it’s still alive. Right under that notebook.”

“Notebook? Where?” Desperandum looked at the counter. He took a step back and—squish—his large flat foot landed squarely on the book. I winced.

“Well. What a misfortune,” Desperandum said in a tone of deep regret. He picked up the notebook and gazed criti­cally at the stickily adhering remnants of fish. “Completely ruined. What bad luck. By the way, Newhouse, I’m sorry I snapped at you a few minutes ago. I was overwrought.”

“I understand, sir. I had it coming, anyway.”

“No, no, I appreciate frankness. And, as you said, I don’t think the crew would appreciate a detour like that. There aren’t many whales there; they would see it as a waste of time. We don’t want the men getting restless.”

“Just as you say, sir.”

“You’re dismissed. Give the men the all clear when you go back to the kitchen. And have our medical officer re­port to my cabin.”

“Yes, sir.” I left.

And that was the last of the incident. But, later I found Dalusa staring raptly at the dried patches of Desperan­dum’s blood on the deck. I scrubbed it clean with sand that night when no one was looking.

Chapter 11 The Cliffs

Desperandum healed fast, except for his arm. He painted the slash with iodine but refused to cover the ugly black webwork of stitches put in by our first mate.

We continued to sail northwards and soon passed the halfway mark of our voyage, the Brokenfoot Islands. The settlements here had the best hydroponics labs on Nalluqua. They grow 90 percent of Nullaqua’s tobacco and over half the grain used in brewing beer. We did not land but exchanged greetings with several merchant vessels and a shrimp boat. I bought a new jackknife from an old man in a trading skiff.

I had lost my first knife to the glue in the false compart­ment of the Lunglance. I had often thought of confronting Desperandum directly with my knowledge of those hidden stores. It might even be possible that he did not know about the engine, the propeller, and the tanks of oxygen. But I decided against it.

We killed four more whales and laboriously butchered them. There were sharks here, too. They were a different subspecies from the sharks at the Seagull Peninsula, but they had the same vicious teeth, the same flying pilot fish, and the same disquieting hints of intelligence. Ignoring his wounds, Desperandum attacked the creatures with the rest of the crew, wielding a long whaling spade with extreme viciousness and every ounce of his incredible strength. The sharks attempted to give Desperandum a wide berth, and once a flying fish escaped Dalusa’s nets and bit a small piece out of Desperandum’s right ear, leaving it scalloped.