Fire in the Ocean

by K. D. Keenan

  As the little boat rocked on the swells, Keikilani dug into her bag and produced a long, leafy lei. There were no flowers in it, just long, slender leaves. It wasn’t fashioned in a circle, but as a kind of long garland. Auntie draped this around her shoulders.

  “Maile leaf,” she said by way of explanation. Sierra could smell a delicate, almost vanilla scent from the leaves, discernible even above the briny smell of the ocean.

  Auntie Keikilani began to chant, and Sierra joined in with enthusiasm as they asked for Kauhuhu’s protection and good will. Auntie sprinkled ‘awa and flowers over the water. Then she removed the maile lei from her shoulders and dropped it onto the surface of the water, where it floated, twining like seaweed.

  Auntie Keikilani sat back, looking at Sierra. “Here I go,” she said. “May my ‘aumakua and all the gods protect me.”

  Auntie fitted the mask over her face and rolled over the side of the boat, where she expertly slipped on her swim fins. She waved at Sierra and began swimming slowly away from the boat. Sierra watched her closely, not wanting to take her eyes from Auntie for a second. The older woman swam gracefully to a point at least twenty yards distant, where she stopped and floated. Sierra assumed this must be the deep hole Auntie had mentioned.

  Sierra sat in the hot sun and watched. Sweat drenched her even as the sea breeze cooled her skin. The boat rocked with a gentle, soothing motion. A pod of dolphins swam past, noted the boat and began tumbling around her, occasionally poking their heads out of the water and gazing at Sierra with bright black eyes. When the pod finally moved off, Sierra realized she had been so fascinated by the dolphins’ antics she had lost track of Auntie.

  Panicked, she scanned the patch of ocean where she thought Auntie should be, but there was no sign of her. Sunlight glanced off the ripples and speared Sierra’s eyes, making them water. She rubbed her eyes fiercely and looked again. There she was! Auntie was no longer floating in one spot. She was swimming back to the little red boat.

  Auntie handed up her flippers to Sierra. Getting her back into the boat was a bit precarious, but they finally managed it. She sat panting and dripping on the center thwart as she removed her mask and snorkel. Her long, curly hair snaked down her back like seaweed.

  “Did you see Kanaloa?” Sierra asked eagerly, but Auntie shook her head.

  “No. I called and called, but no luck. I started to get tired and came back.” Auntie Keikilani sounded disappointed. Sierra reflected that disappointment wouldn’t be her own response.

  “So I guess it’s your turn,” said Auntie, handing Sierra the snorkel and mask. Sierra took them with a sinking in the pit of her stomach.

  “What if he doesn’t appear to me, either?”

  Auntie shrugged. “Then we go home and have some lunch.”

  Sierra donned mask and snorkel, setting them on the top of her head like an awkward and ugly hat, and clambered over the side, setting the little boat to rocking violently. Once Sierra was in the water, Auntie handed down the fins and Sierra, floating on her back, slipped them onto her feet. Then she pulled her mask down, rolled over and as Auntie pointed the way, swam away from the fragile shelter of the little red boat. She snorkeled as she went, not looking for colorful fish this time, but seeking the deeper water. And keeping a sharp eye out for sharks.

  Sailing over the colorful corals, she abruptly found herself suspended over nothingness—a deep, blue hole. She could still see the corals behind her, but directly below and ahead of her she could see nothing but blue. She hung suspended in the warm water, floating and—if she were to be honest—praying. She had no reason to trust Kauhuhu. From her point of view, there was every reason to distrust a god that took the form of a white shark the size of a decent-sized fishing boat. She frequently raised her head to get her bearings on the little red boat and Auntie Keikilani—the closest thing to safety. And she didn’t venture too far out over the deep water, staying near the shelf of corals at the edge. It would probably make no difference if things went bad, but it prevented her from panicking.

  After hanging in the water for what seemed like hours, chanting soundlessly to call Kanaloa, she looked up to spot Keikilani and the red boat, waved to reassure the other woman, who waved back, then put her mask into the water again—to find herself face to face with the dead blue eyes and grisly teeth of the great shark Kauhuhu. The adrenaline rush almost made her black out and she inadvertently took in seawater through her snorkel with a sharply indrawn breath of panic. When the black spots in front of her eyes cleared and she had coughed up all the salt water, the enormous shark was still there, unmoving except for the passage of water through its fluttering gills. The gills looked like knife wounds in a corpse, black against its pallid flesh. The shark’s “face” had no expression, of course, but its mouth was open a few inches, exposing only the serrated bottom teeth. For some reason, this gave it, if not a friendly air, at least a less-threatening appearance.

  Sierra, as still as death in the water, tried reaching out with her powers. This was not an offensive hurling of her mana, as she had attempted against Kanaloa. She untwined the glowing ribbons and allowed them to gently expand beyond her body. They coiled though the water and twined around the shark’s heavy torso in streamers of colored light.

  The shark hung motionless within this basket of light, as though the touch of her mana were a pleasant sensation. She addressed it mentally. “Kauhuhu, thank you for coming to me. I wouldn’t have asked if it weren’t gravely important.”

  As the shark studied her, Sierra explained about the wind farm west of Moloka‘i. She asked Kauhuhu if he had heard the whales singing about it but received no response. She told him about the dead baby whale. A deep voice began to resonate inside her head. The voice was toneless, smooth, and somehow dark. It chilled her to her core despite the warmth of the sun and water.

  “Things die,” said the voice. “Everything dies. There are the eaters and the eaten, but even the eaters die and are eaten in their turn.”

  There wasn’t much she could say to that, but she tried again. “The whales aren’t the only issue. The construction will kill many corals and other animals. And the people of Moloka‘i don’t like it either. I asked Kanaloa about it, but he, um, left without saying anything.”

  The huge white shark rested in the water, still allowing Sierra’s mana to caress it. “Who are you?” it asked finally.

  Sierra tried to explain who she was and why she wanted Kauhuhu’s help. “So you’re the protector of Moloka‘i,” she finished. “That’s why I’ve come to you. I think you—and maybe Kanaloa—are the last hope for stopping this.”

  The shark made no immediate response, but when Sierra glanced down, she saw movement in the deep blue. It looked like an enormous nest of pale eels writhing up toward her, but before she had time to react, she realized it was Kanaloa, swimming up swiftly from the depths. Kanaloa reached out a long, long tentacle and gripped her thigh, not pulling her under—Sierra’s adrenaline-fueled first take—but merely contacting her. She could feel the cold, sticky softness of the Avatar’s dead-white skin. Then Kanaloa’s voice spoke.

  “We hear. We understand.”

  Abruptly, the tentacle released her and Sierra was enveloped in a roiling cloud of bubbles. When the water cleared, there was nothing to be seen. She immediately set out for the little red boat as fast as she could go and arrived panting with exertion and frayed nerves. Getting back in the boat was a bit iffy and they came close to capsizing once or twice, but Sierra finally heaved herself over the side with Auntie’s help. She collapsed on one of the benches and pulled off her mask. Keikilani offered her a drink of water and peered into her face with concern.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes,” Sierra gulped. “Yes, but can we get back to dry land right now, please?”

  Chapter 20

  “How do you know that Kanaloa and Kauhuhu will actually help?” asked Clancy. They were having another dinner at Auntie’s house. Chaco had picked up supplies in
town and was preparing a delicious meal of locally raised pork tenderloin with pineapple and fresh veggies from Kumu Farms. Mortality hadn’t impaired his ability to cook, Sierra decided.

  “I don’t,” Sierra said. “Avatars almost never tell you anything straightforward. They’re always mysterious. Why is that, Chaco?”

  Chaco looked up from his work, surprised. “I’m never mysterious,” he protested. “I always say what I mean.” He blushed slightly under Sierra’s steady gaze. “Well, almost always,” he admitted. “If I’m trying to impress someone I might get a little obscure. Just for effect.”

  “So you’re still going out to the construction site tomorrow?” Chaco asked.

  “Yes!” Clancy said with enthusiasm. “I hope Roberts lets me go, too. I’d really like to see the jack ships.” Sierra just nodded her head and looked at Clancy fondly. Chaco noted this quietly. He picked up his plate and glass and took them into the kitchen. No one noticed his glum expression because it wasn’t much different from the glum expression he had worn almost continually since becoming mortal. And no one noticed when he quietly slipped out of the kitchen and went to his room.

  The next morning, Clancy drove Sierra to the helipad near Kaunakakai. When they arrived, a helicopter was waiting and so was Roberts. Sierra introduced Clancy. He and Roberts shook hands and Clancy said, “I know I’m butting in here, but I was wondering if I could come, too? I was reading up on jack ships, and they’re fascinating. I’d love to see one.”

  Roberts looked a bit surprised but readily responded, “Sure. You’ll have to sit in the back, though.”

  “Not a problem.”

  “Then let’s get going.” Roberts gave them ear protectors and showed them how to climb into the ’copter and strap in. Within minutes they had lifted straight up from the ground and were flying west over the island. Conversation was impossible in the racket from the rotors. From the rear seat, sitting next to Clancy, Sierra could see a panoramic view of bright red earth, deep black lava rock, and the vivid green of fields, orchards, and grassy meadows. To the north, she could see the land rising gently to the top of the forested pali; to the south, ocean; and in the hazy blue distance beyond she could see other islands as dim, gray-blue shadows across the sea.

  Before long, they passed over white breakers dashing themselves against the western rocks. Then they left the island behind and flew over the open ocean. Not long after leaving the west shore of Moloka‘i, one of the jack ships became visible, looking like a toy boat on the surface of the sea. As they drew closer and began to land, Sierra was astonished at the size of the ship. Longer by a third than a football field, it resembled nothing so much as a factory suspended above the ocean on six massive legs constructed of latticed steel girders. The helicopter pilot brought them down expertly on the ship’s helipad and they debarked, bending low under the craft’s rotors even though the blades were well above their heads.

  “Welcome to Jack of Diamonds,’’ Roberts said.

  Roberts was clearly proud of his operation. He gave them a thorough tour of the vessel and explained how it operated. The crew was in the process of lowering one of the wind turbine shafts onto a base that had already been installed on the seafloor. The base poked up from the water, a bright yellow pillar with a railed-in work platform near the top. Sierra tilted her head up to look at the two-hundred-foot-long white tower, now suspended from a gigantic crane mounted on the jack ship. The crane was gently, slowly manipulating this upright length over the side of the ship, positioning it to slide into the waiting base. It quickly became obvious why the ship was jacked up on its six legs; it would have been impossible to achieve this precision work from the deck of a ship bobbing about on the ocean swells. As it was, the jack ship’s legs provided a stable platform from which to work.

  Although Sierra, Clancy, and Roberts were well away from the active work site, the installation made Sierra nervous. The shaft was huge, suspended from an even larger crane, and it seemed to sway dangerously in the steady offshore wind.

  Then she gasped, “There are people working down there! In the base. Won’t they be crushed?”

  “No. It’s dangerous work, but the crane operators know what they’re doing. Just watch,” replied Roberts.

  Sierra did watch, hardly able to breathe, as the immense tower, as tall as a smokestack, descended onto the base, the workers in the base making micro-adjustments as the tube descended, a centimeter at a time. Finally, the massive shaft rested gently and precisely on the base, hiding the workers within.

  “How do they get out?” Clancy asked.

  “There’s a ladder inside,” replied Roberts. “Right now, they're joining the two parts together. When they’re finished, they’ll climb down and come out on the work platform below.” He pointed to the bright yellow platform. “There’s also a one-person lift inside the shaft, but it’s not operational yet.” Roberts suddenly stiffened, and craned over the railing of the platform where they stood watching the operation. “What the hell is that?”

  Sierra and Clancy looked down where Roberts was pointing. The water around the base of the tower had begun to roil and bubble as though boiling. Gradually the entire base began to rock. The newly placed shaft was not yet secured to the base, so as the base rocked one way, the unsecured tower began to tilt in the other. At first, it was hard to see what was happening; the movement was slight, nearly imperceptible. As the water became more and more turbulent, the rocking became more obvious. Alarmed shouts went up all over the jack ship as people realized what was happening. Evidently this had never happened before because the crew seemed uncertain what to do.

  Roberts pulled out a two-way radio. “Control! Do you read me, Control?” The crackling affirmation was returned at once. “Don’t release the shaft! Repeat, DO NOT release the shaft!” The crane was still attached to the top of the shaft. The reason for Roberts’ order became apparent as shaft and base parted and the shaft swung free—still under the control of the crane, though swaying in long arcs that brought it dangerously close to the jack ship itself. Sierra could see the hard-hatted workers cowering on top of the base. Then they swarmed down the ladder inside the base, evidently aiming for the work platform below. The water around the base boiled green and white as it continued to rock. Sierra saw the first worker emerge from the base onto the yellow work platform just as it disappeared beneath the turbid water, workers and all.

  Sierra watched in paralyzed horror as boats were launched to rescue the workers. She didn’t feel Clancy’s strong arms around her. She didn’t hear Roberts shouting orders over his radio. She didn’t hear the cries and confusion all over the jack ship as workers struggled to bring the tower back under control and stow it safely onboard before another disaster occurred. She could not take her eyes off the water, scanning it obsessively for surviving men.

  Though both Clancy and Roberts urged her away from the deck where they had stood to watch the installation, Sierra would not budge. She watched the boats cautiously approach the boiling water, now beginning to calm. She saw crewmembers on board the rescue vessels scanning for survivors. Finally, a small, yellow object drifted up from the depths. It was a hardhat, identical to the ones worn by every crewmember.

  The next few minutes seemed to take forever as the boats patrolled the area so recently occupied by the bright yellow base. After what seemed years, five people appeared on the surface of the ocean, flailing and waving, and boats sped to their rescue, men hauling their sodden co-workers over the sides to safety.

  As Sierra drew a long breath of relief, it turned into a groan. “Clancy!” she whispered urgently. “Look down there. Where the people were. In the water.”

  Clancy looked down again and drew in his breath. The workers were all safely aboard the boats, which were pulling back to the ship. But where they had emerged from the water there were several long, gray-brown bodies swimming, sharp dorsal fins cutting the surface like knives.

  “Sharks,” he breathed.

  Chapte
r 21

  Many long hours passed before Sierra and Clancy returned to Kaunakakai. Roberts—when he finally remembered his guests—had them escorted to the jack ship’s mess hall to wait. No one else was there. Everyone was out trying to assess the damage, secure the equipment, or take care of the survivors.

  Sierra collapsed into one of the chairs and put her head down on the table. She did not weep. The icy certainty that she had nearly caused the deaths of several innocent people was too great a weight for tears. Clancy put his arm around her shoulders.

  “That was a terrible thing to see,” he said somberly.

  Sierra whipped her head up. “It was because of me. Kauhuhu and Kanaloa destroyed the tower and almost killed those poor people. And there were sharks there. Just waiting. Kauhuhu and Kanaloa must have sent them. There was no other reason for a bunch of tiger sharks to show up en masse.” She shuddered. “Horrible.”

  “How do you know that? It might have been some underwater phenomenon. Maybe an earthquake.”

  Sierra shook her head. “No. You could tell no one working here has ever seen or heard of anything like it. They were completely unprepared for this. This happened because of me.” She felt as though there were a steel fist around her heart, squeezing. Her hands felt numb and her head throbbed. Her eyes, dry as they were, ached. If only she had just spent her time relaxing on the beach, this wouldn’t have happened. And it could have been so much worse. What gives me the right to stick my nose into other people’s business? What gives me the right to use these powers? Why did I not know what the consequences could be?

  “Clancy, I’ve got to stop them,” she said. “What if they keep on doing this? Someone will be killed—maybe a lot of people. What if they attack the jack ship?”

  “The jack ship is huge,” responded Clancy. “Do you really think they could affect it?”