A school of longnose butterflyfish surrounded Kimo for a moment, saying hello in their shy and silent way, and then darting away. Looking back, he saw Alicia swimming in the same direction as he was. Curiously, despite additional physical changes in some of the Sea Warriors, both he and Alicia still looked entirely human, with their hybrid transformations mostly concealed. In his own case, since he had looked human for his entire life, he suspected there would be no further changes, other than the normal aging he had already noticed. With Alicia, however, and others such as Monique Gatsby and Professor Greco, he wasn’t nearly as certain. Unlike Kimo, all of them were recent converts.
Alicia caught up with him, and they shared an underwater kiss, and a long hug. As they parted, Kimo felt the lingering sweetness of the kiss.
Side by side, they swam above a whitetip reef shark that was swimming close to the seabed, searching for worms and crustaceans to eat. Kimo smiled to himself. Even though all the creatures of the ocean were allied for a common purpose, they still understood the natural ways of things, the hierarchy of food chains involving predator and prey, and the timeless cycles of life and death that made the seas a sustainable habitat for so many different species.
Then he faced Alicia and projected his thoughts to her through the water: “I want you to join Gwyneth. Your power with waves is a valuable additional weapon for us to use against business operations and wealthy homeowners on the west coast. While you’re on your way, I’m going to issue a specific warning through the press, and when you get there, I want you to slam waves into docks and other structures around Santa Barbara, causing as much damage as you can. Do it exactly three times, because that is what I will specify in my warning. I’m only telling them we will strike somewhere on the coast between San Francisco and Los Angeles, but watch out for a U.S. Navy presence in the water. They will be looking for you.”
“I’m sure I can improve on the height and power,” she said, over the molecular transmission. “It’s only a matter of time, and practice. Make sure they take your warning seriously, though, and evacuate everyone. I don’t want to hurt anybody.”
“I’ll make sure. They already know I do not issue idle threats. I’ll arrange for a jetfish pod to take you to the coast, so you won’t be observed crossing the Pacific. After you slam Santa Barbara three times, I want you to await my further instructions.”
“Anything else?” She smiled.
“Nothing you need to do. I’ve also sent some of my Sea Warriors with pods of blue whales—three of the newer members who have shown abilities with large marine animals. They have instructions to interfere with container ships traveling between the United States and the Far East, and force them to turn back. To start with, we’re sending out three pods. It’s a beginning.”
“You’re becoming quite the military commander,” she said, with a gentle smile.
“I’m the most experienced Sea Warrior, so I’ve taken on the responsibility of leadership. I promise you, though, if I falter or if anyone shows better leadership skills, I’m ready to step aside. This is about the welfare of the ocean, not about me.”
“We all understand that,” she said. “We are not about being selfish; that’s one of the biggest things wrong with human beings.”
“None of us are fully human any longer,” he said.
“I hear something coming in,” Alicia said.
He heard it, too, a molecular communication coming in from Mattie Bickel, a Sea Warrior he’d assigned to go ashore in Honolulu to obtain current news. Now, having re-immersed herself in the ocean near Diamond Head, she was reporting that the government of the United States was intensifying its efforts to find and arrest all hybrid Sea Warriors. To accomplish that, the right-wing president had declared a state of national emergency and the imposition of martial law, until all of the “dangerous fugitives” were caught or killed.
In Honolulu, people were being forced to go through military checkpoints, where they were examined for evidence of hybrid bodies, such as the gills that all transformed, front-line Sea Warriors were known to have. Mattie had narrowly escaped the checkpoint, and had made it back into the water. She also said that some of the president’s opponents wanted to criticize these severe methods for their own political advantage, but were nervous about what he might do to them in response.
When she finished, Kimo shook his head in dismay. The right-wing American president had found an excuse to broaden police powers. Kimo had heard that fascists did that historically, taking advantage of an emergency or perceived injustice to advance their own interests.
During the current presidency, Kimo had also come to an opinion that was commonly held in progressive politics, that the President of the United States, Fillmore Vanness, was a right-wing corporate lackey, promoting business and allied military interests while putting on the false appearance of being a common man, feigning concern about the economy, the middle class, the environment, and anything else that would garner the most votes for himself and his cronies.
Kimo supposed that Vanness was like almost every other president in supporting big business over the average citizen, because of corporate influence on the political structure. Big companies did it in myriad ways, through lobbying and campaign-finance donations and personal friendships, getting the ear of the leader of the free world in ways that the average person could not even begin to imagine.
And it was because of a corporate-tainted political structure, Kimo had come to believe, that most environmental-protection measures were only window dressing, and really did not delve deeply enough into the various issues to make any real and lasting difference. He realized after living and working in the ocean for so long, that it was a dumping ground like no other. At least people could see and smell dirty air, and could see trash dumped on the ground. When it came to the seas, however, they were so vast and deep that they concealed much of the junk and industrial waste that had been left in them, either intentionally or carelessly, or through accidents. Nowadays, for companies and individuals who polluted the water, it was like sweeping dirt under the proverbial rug, putting it where it would not be seen easily. Centuries and centuries of trash were under the water and immersed in it.
With all that in mind, Kimo had been delighted at the initiative Gwyneth McDevitt and J.D. Watts had taken on the California coast, tossing the oil rig, a boat wreck, and other trash back onto the land, where people could not avoid having to look at it. For a moment he considered doing something like that in the Hawaiian Islands, because wrecked boats and other trash were in the water, and could be brought ashore. But Hawaii was so incredibly beautiful that he didn’t have the heart to litter it. Hawaii had been the home of his family for generations, and he didn’t want to dishonor the sacred land that had nurtured them. Maybe he would consult with Ealani, to see if she could come up with another solution.
Now Kimo was looking forward to hearing from Dirk Avondale about the results of his mission to push the floating plastics and other debris onto the mainland of the United States, ejecting it from the sea.
As he and Alicia were swimming back toward their remote islet headquarters, Mattie Bickel came back on the molecular connection, transmitting her thoughts hesitantly, reluctantly: “Please tell Alicia that her grandfather has been seriously injured by a gunshot wound to the head, and is in the hospital. I heard it on the local Hawaiian news. They say he’s recovering, that he just came out of a coma.”
Looking over at Alicia, Kimo saw that she had heard. She looked shocked, transmitted her own response to Mattie: “Which hospital?”
“The one in Wanaao Town. I’m not sure why they didn’t fly him to Honolulu, but expensive specialists are reportedly with him, and he has a chance of recovering.”
Mattie closed the connection, and Alicia sent her own message to Kimo: “I must go to him. Is a jetfish pod available for me? It would be faster than swimming or riding a wave.”
“Not yet. It will be a couple of hours more before the jetfish could
arrive, and the conglomeration process would take a while after that.”
“I can get there faster on my own,” she said. “But if you can have that pod ready for me as soon as possible, waiting for me by the Wanaao Town dock, I’ll take it to the West Coast, as you instructed. First, though, I must see my grandfather.”
He nodded sadly, and watched as she returned to the grotto to pick up a waterproof pack with a change of clothes in it, which would enable her to go ashore more easily.
A short while later, he saw her generate a wave to carry her south to Loa’kai Island faster than she could swim.
For more than two days, Jeff had been staying with Ealani Pohaku, but not through any force or threat, because he had told her he would leave her alone if she wished, and go away. To his surprise she had graciously invited him to stay, and had shown him every kindness. Sometimes when she thought he was not looking he’d seen her performing healing rituals, and he’d heard his own name mentioned. Ealani had also helped him conceal the Jeep where no one would find it.
All the anger he’d felt against her family had dissipated after he’d gotten a chance to know this remarkable woman, and after he’d seen that his grandfather was alive and likely to recover. Jeff’s reasons for hating the Pohakus had been confused anyway, he’d come to realize when he listened to Ealani telling him the story of her family. The Pohakus were just a native Hawaiian family trying to cope with the intrusion of western civilization, an invasion that disrupted native land-use practices and changed their centuries-old way of life.
Ealani Pohaku had put it best, in asserting the situation was not the fault of her family, and not the fault of Jeff’s grandfather, either. “We have all been caught in a clash of cultures,” she’d said the night before, as they sat on her screened porch and drank mango tea. “We are all victims of circumstance, Jeff.”
It was late morning now, and Jeff was preparing to go and see his grandfather again, to ensure that the old man was continuing to improve. Ealani would take him there, leading him along back trails where the police were not likely to see him.
When they emerged from a trail and were within view of the hospital, however, Jeff was shocked to see his sister walking across the grounds not far from him, heading for the central of three hospital buildings, none of which were large. She wore shorts, sandals, and a khaki blouse, and carried a small backpack.
“Alicia!” he called out, motioning to her. “Over here!”
She saw him and hurried over. “Is Grandfather all right?” she asked, appearing uneasy when Jeff hugged her.
“He came out of a coma two days ago.”
“I heard that, but he’s still OK?”
“I’m just going to check on him myself.”
“You must both be careful,” Ealani said, urging them back into the cover of the jungle. “The police are looking for you.”
“For both of us?” Alicia said, looking at Jeff. “But my brother is not a Sea Warrior.”
Jeff told her briefly, tearfully, about the man he had killed on the boat—in self-defense, he assured her—and about his own role in their grandfather’s nearly fatal injury.
“I will go ahead and make sure the way is clear,” Ealani said. “Wait here, and watch for my signal.”
#
Preston Ellsworth had not slept well the night before, lying awake most of the time, afraid he might slip back into a coma. Today his headache was not any better, and he had not felt like eating much of his lunch. He pushed the rolling tray-table away.
Later this afternoon, several people were scheduled to visit him, friends from Wanaao Town. He wasn’t sure if he felt up to seeing them, however, and didn’t want to ask about Jeff, because he knew the police were looking for him.
The old man had been surprised to see his grandson and Ealani Pohaku together when they visited him earlier, but they’d left before he could ask them any questions. After Dr. Chandrapur examined Preston and gave new instructions to the head nurse, she’d remained in the room. While entering notes in a handheld computer, she’d asked him, “Who was that young man?”
“Just a friend,” Preston had said, lying.
“Ealani has been coming to the hospital every day,” the nurse told him again, as she darkened the computer screen and slipped the device into a pocket of her smock. “Sometimes she comes by herself and sometimes with other healers to perform rituals on your behalf—summoning the spirits to make you well again. And it seems she is succeeding!”
He considered this for a moment. “Perhaps you are right, and her kindness will put an end to the bad history between our families….”
Alicia saw a nurse leave the room where Ealani had said her grandfather was. The nurse turned down another corridor, disappeared from view. Anxious to confirm that the elderly man was all right, Alicia hurried forward with her two companions behind her, and all of them entered the room. She saw him arranging his pillows, preparing to lie on his side, with his face turned away from the doorway.
The Hawaiian woman closed the door behind them, a sound that caused Preston to look. Surprise registered on his creased face. Alicia saw a clean bandage on one side of his head. His blue eyes were alert.
“I came the minute I heard you were hurt,” she said.
The old man scowled and stared hard at her, then at Jeff. “You shouldn’t have come. Neither of you.” He grimaced, held a newspaper up, and then slapped it down on his own lap. “There’s a front-page story here; the police are after both of you.”
Speaking up, Alicia said, “Jeff killed the man in self-defense, and the warrant for me is unjustified. It’s a political matter, a Sea Warriors matter.”
“The Sea Warriors have killed U.S. Navy personnel,” Preston said, “frogmen at Pearl Harbor, a helicopter crew, and more than six hundred sailors massacred on a guided-missile cruiser. Your organization is nothing but a gang of thugs, trying to keep people out of the water by terrorizing them.”
“The frogmen and helicopter crew died in battle, while we were trying to protect the lives of whales and other animals in the sea barricade. As for the massacre, it was committed by two rogue members who have since been turned over to the U.S. government to face justice.”
“And the authorities want the rest of you to face justice, too,” he said.
“I can see that you’ll never understand,” Alicia said. She went to the door, looked back at him with a gentle expression. “But I am glad you’re getting better, Grandfather.”
“So am I,” Jeff said. He joined her.
Looking at Ealani, the Ellsworth patriarch smiled and said, “Thank you for what you did for me. I’m … I’m deeply sorry our families have had the misunderstandings.”
“So am I,” she said.
With her face full of emotion, Ealani turned away and hurried out into the corridor. She directed Alicia and Jeff to a back door, and they slipped out into the intense tropical sunlight. Taking a different route than the earlier one, the Hawaiian woman led the way behind buildings, saying she was going to show them a different trail. “I assume you wish to return to the sea?” she said, looking over her shoulder at Alicia.
“Yes.” Alicia could not see the water from here, but knew which direction it was, beyond a thicket of jungle at the bottom of the gentle, grassy slope of the hospital grounds.
“This will take us along the outskirts of Wanaao Park,” the older woman said. “I will show you the way.”
Just then, Alicia saw a uniformed police officer on the trail. The three of them turned away, and walked quickly toward the parking lot, where Ealani said there was another way out.
When they were almost to the lot, Alicia heard the officer shout from behind them, “Halt! Police!”
A man was opening the door of a white pickup truck, and was about to step in when Jeff shoved him aside, saying, “I have a gun. Give me your keys!” He didn’t show any weapon, but the man handed over his keys nervously, then turned and ran.
“Get in,” Jeff said to A
licia, as he started the truck.
She hesitated, looked at Ealani. “You’d better go,” the Hawaiian woman said, looking back at the police officer, who was running toward them, shouting.
Alicia jumped in the passenger seat, and Jeff accelerated out of the parking lot. Tires skidding, he turned onto the road and sped away from town. Alicia couldn’t find a seat belt, so she held onto a ceiling strap as Jeff skidded around turns, throwing up clouds of dust behind the truck.
“I’m going to stop at the Okawa trailhead,” he said, pointing ahead. “Run down the trail and you’ll be in the ocean. I assume you know what to do from there.”
“What about you?”
“I’ll be fine; I know a side road that will take me to safety in the jungle. I love you!” He skidded to a stop. “Now go, Alicia! Go!”
She kissed him on the cheek, then jumped out and ran down the rocky trail. Behind her, she heard the pickup accelerate, and saw it speed around a turn, with a police car chasing, its blue lights flashing and siren wailing.
But just before jumping in the water, she heard gunshots, and then to her horror she saw the pickup truck plunge off a cliff and explode on rocks at the edge of the sea. A fireball rose up the steep rock face, sickening her. No one could survive that.
Crying, she stripped down to her swimsuit, dove in the water and swam away. Alicia grieved for her brother, and would always remember that he died trying to save her life. Despite any crimes he may have committed (and she was uncertain of that), he was still her brother, and she loved him.
She worried about her grandfather, how he would take the terrible news. But she could not go to him now, not with her obligation to join Gwyneth on the West Coast. Alicia swam underwater, making her way toward the Wanaao Town dock, where the trans-ocean jetfish pod awaited her.
Ocean: War of Independence Page 4