Fluke, or, I Know Why the Winged Whale Sings Chapter 17~18

Section SEVENTEEN Jonathan Livingston Reaper Amy wore a curiously large, worn out â€Å"I'M WITH STUPID† nightshirt and Local Motion flip-flops. Her hair was totally level on one side and spread out into an unlikely sunburst of spikes on the other, causing it to give the idea that she was getting hit in the side of the head by a small tropical storm, which she wasn't. She was, in any case, playing out the longest supported yawn Clay had ever observed. â€Å"Ooo ahe-e, I aya oa a,† she said in yawnspeak, a language †similar to Hawaiian †known for its scarcity of consonants. (You proceed, I'm alright, she was stating.) She signaled for Clay to proceed. Mud prompted the tape and tinkered with the sound. A whale tail in a field of blue passed by on the screen. â€Å"There's somebody outside, Captain.† â€Å"Does he have my sandwich with him?† Amy quit yawning and hurried forward on the stool she was roosted upon behind Clay. At the point when the whale tail descended, Clay halted the tape and glanced back at her. â€Å"Well?† â€Å"Play it again.† He did. â€Å"Can we get an inclination for direction?† Amy inquired. â€Å"That lodging has sound system amplifiers, isn't that so? Consider the possibility that we move the speakers far separated †would we be able to get a sense where it's coming from?†. Mud shook his head. â€Å"The mikes are directly close to one another. You need to isolate them by at any rate a meter to get any spatial data. Everything I can let you know is that it's in the water and it's not especially uproarious. Truth be told, on the off chance that I wasn't utilizing the rebreather, I'd never have heard it. You're the sound individual. What would you be able to tell me?† He ran it back and played it once more. â€Å"It's human speech.† Dirt took a gander at her as though to state, Uh-huh, I woke you up on the grounds that I required the undeniable called attention to. â€Å"And it's military.† â€Å"Why do you believe it's military?† Presently Amy gave Clay a similar look that he had quite recently got done with giving her.† ‘Captain'?† â€Å"Oh, right,† said Clay. â€Å"Speaker in the water? Jumpers with submerged interchanges? What do you think?† â€Å"Didn't sound like it. Did it sound like it was originating from little speakers to you?† â€Å"Nope.† Clay played it once more. â€Å"Sandwich?† he said. â€Å"Sandwich?† â€Å"The Old Broad said that somebody called her professing to be a whale and requested that her advise Nate to present to him a sandwich.† Amy crushed Clay's shoulder. â€Å"He's gone, Clay. I realize you don't accept what I saw occurred, however it absolutely wasn't about a sandwich conspiracy.† â€Å"I'm not saying that, Amy. Damn it. I'm not saying this had anything to do with Nate's† †he was going to state suffocating and halted himself †â€Å"accident. Be that as it may, it may have to do with the lab getting destroyed, the tapes getting taken, and somebody attempting to meddle with the Old Broad. Somebody is screwing with us, Amy, and it may be whoever is recorded on this tape.† â€Å"And it is highly unlikely the camera could have hauled a sign out of the air, something on a similar recurrence or something? A cell phone or something?† â€Å"Through a half-inch of powder-covered aluminum lodging and a hundred feet of water? No, that sign came in through the mike. That I'm certain of.† Amy gestured and took a gander at the delayed picture on the screen. â€Å"So you're searching for two things: somebody military and somebody who has an enthusiasm for Nate's work.† â€Å"No one †† Clay halted himself once more, recollecting what he'd said to Nate when the lab had been destroyed. That nobody thought about their work. In any case, clearly somebody did. â€Å"Tarwater?† Amy shrugged. â€Å"He's military. Perhaps. Forget about the tape. I'll run a spectrograph on the sound in the first part of the day, check whether I can tell if it's getting through an enhancer. I have nothing left today around evening time †I'm beat.† â€Å"Thanks,† Clay said. â€Å"You get some rest, kiddo. I'm going to hit it, as well. I'll be making a beeline for the harbor first thing.† † ‘Kay.† â€Å"Oh, and hello, the ‘kiddo' thing, I didn't mean †; Amy tossed her arms around him and kissed the highest point of his head. â€Å"You huge mook. Try not to stress, we'll traverse this.† She turned and began the entryway. â€Å"Amy?† She stopped in the entryway. â€Å"Yeah?† â€Å"Can I ask you a†¦ individual inquiry, kinda?† â€Å"Shoot.† â€Å"The shirt †who's stupid?† She looked down at her shirt, at that point back at him and smiled. â€Å"Always appears to apply, Clay. Regardless of where I am or who I'm with, the smoke clears and the shirt is valid. You gotta cling to truth when you find it.† â€Å"I like truth,† Clay said. â€Å"Night, Clay.† â€Å"Night, kiddo.† The following day the climate was smothered, with whitecaps icing the whole channel across to Lanai and the coconut palms whipping overhead like epileptic residue mops. Earth drove by the harbor in his truck, taking note of that the lodge cruiser that Cliff Hyland's gathering had been utilizing was left in its slip. At that point he pivoted and got a glimmer of white somewhere off to the side as he drove past the hundred-year-old Pioneer Inn †Captain Tarwater's naval force whites contrasting the green shiplap. He left his truck by the goliath banyan tree nearby and bumped it over to the café. At the point when Clay came up to the table, the master was simply seating Cliff Hyland, Tarwater, and one of their graduate understudies, a youthful fair lady with a raccoon burn from the sun and straw-dry hair. â€Å"Hey, Cliff,† Clay said. â€Å"You got a minute?† â€Å"Clay, how you doing?† Hyland removed his shades and remained to shake hands. â€Å"Please, join us.† Earth took a gander at Tarwater, and the maritime official gestured. â€Å"Sorry to catch wind of your partner,† he said. At that point he thought down at his menu. The young lady sitting with them was viewing the dynamic between the three men as though she may compose a paper on it. â€Å"Just a second,† Clay said. â€Å"If I could converse with you outside.† Presently Tarwater looked up and gave Cliff Hyland a practically subtle shake of the head. â€Å"Sure, Clay,† Cliff stated, â€Å"let's walk.† He looked to the lesser analyst. â€Å"When she comes, espresso, Portuguese wiener, eggs over simple, entire wheat.† The young lady gestured. Hyland followed Clay out to the front of the lodging, which ignored the harbor filling station and the Carthaginian, a steel-hulled reproduction of a whaling brig, presently utilized as a drifting historical center. They stood one next to the other, watching the harbor, each with a foot propped on the seawall. â€Å"What's up, Clay?† â€Å"What are you all chipping away at, Cliff?† â€Å"You realize I can't discuss that. I marked a nondisclosure thing.† â€Å"You got jumpers in the water, individuals with submerged coms?† â€Å"Don't be senseless, Clay. You've seen my team. With the exception of Tarwater, they're simply kids. What's this about?† â€Å"Somebody's screwing with us, Cliff. They sank my vessel, destroyed the workplace, took Nate's papers and tapes. They're in any event, meddling with one of our sponsors. I'm not by any means sure they don't have something to do with Nate's † » â€Å"And you believe it's me?† Hyland took his foot off the seawall and went to Clay. â€Å"Nate was my companion, as well. I've realized you folks, what? Twenty-two, twenty-three years? You can't figure I'd do anything like that.† â€Å"I'm not saying you by and by. What are you and Tarwater chipping away at, Cliff? What might Nate realize that would meddle with what you're doing?† Hyland gazed at his feet. Scratched his whiskers. â€Å"I don't know.† â€Å"You don't have the foggiest idea? You realize what we're doing †make sense of it. Tune in, I realize you all are utilizing a major towable sonar rig, isn't that so? What's Tarwater taking a gander at? Some new sort of dynamic sonar? In the event that it didn't have a hinky component, he wouldn't be here on location. Mines?† â€Å"Damn it, Clay, I can't let you know! I can disclose to you that in the event that I thought it was going to hurt the creatures, or anybody in the field so far as that is concerned, I wouldn't do the work.† â€Å"Remember the naval force's Pacific Biological Ocean Science Program? Were you in on that?† â€Å"No. Winged creatures, wasn't it?† â€Å"Yeah, seabirds. The naval force went to a lot of field researcher with a huge amount of cash †needed seabirds labeled and followed, conduct recorded, populace data, natural surroundings, everything. Everybody thought the sky had opened up and begun coming down cash. Thought the naval force was doing a type of mystery sway study to protect the flying creatures. Do you recognize what the examination was really for?† â€Å"No, that was before my time, Clay.† â€Å"They needed to utilize the winged creatures as conveyance frameworks for natural weapons. Needed to ensure they could anticipate that they'd fly to the adversary. Likely fifty researchers helped in that study.† â€Å"But it didn't occur, Clay, did it? That is to say, the information was important deductively, yet the weapons venture didn't dish out.† â€Å"As far as we probably am aware. That is the point. How might we know, until a seagull drops screwing Bacillus anthracis on us?† Bluff Hyland had matured two or three years in the couple of moments they'd been remaining there. â€Å"I guarantee, Clay, if there's any sign that Tarwater or the naval force or any of the creepy folks that come around every now and then are associated with attempting to undermine you all, I'll call you in a moment. I guarantee you. Be that as it may, I can't mention to you what I'm dealing with, or why. I don't actually have subsidizing coming out my ears. In the event that I lose this, I'm instructing first year recruits about dolphin jaws. I'm not prepared for that. I should be in the field.† Mud took a gander at him sideways and saw that there was re