Battle On The Marathon

by John Thornton

  As the sky tube began to shine down on Foreigner, the day dawned, and I could see out across the waters. It was surreal seeing the great orcas just lying there on the beach. Two dead, and one just about dead.

  Earle was angry and ranting about us in the militia and how we had not made the proper connections for him. Even with the macroactinide capacitor enhancers linked together, we had been unable make contact. It looked like we were sending transmissions properly, and we heard a few strange conversations, none of which made any sense, but no one answered our hails. We tried the local civilian networks, seeking medical, or firefighting, or police forces, but to no avail. We even sent several messages out on the emergency frequency used by the Marathon Defense Forces. No one responded to us.

  When the last orca died, which was shortly after daybreak, the group of people sort-of broke up into smaller groups and walked about. Jandrea went back to her home, Rolf went with her. My friends walked up and down the beach looking around. Earle took Jandrea’s hydrophone and walked down to the water. He connected it to his conservation slate via a cable.

  “I must tell the rest of the orcas what has happened here,” Earle said.

  I wanted to question the state of his mind, but held my tongue. I knew orcas were family oriented, and intelligent, but I wondered how they would receive a message from people saying that three of their kind had beached themselves and then died. But Earle was the expert, and Sylvia, the other expert, did not seem to see anything wrong with what he was doing. So, I just watched. He then placed the end of the hydrophone apparatus on a float with the speaker and pickup dangling down into the water, and pushed it out into the waves. I could see he was doing something with his conservation slate, but I did not know what exactly he was trying to do.

  As I was watching Earle and his use of the hydrophone, Bartlet walked up, “Come with me.”

  I got up and followed her and I could see by the look on her face that something else had happened. The militia gathered together, out of earshot of the two oceanographers, and she told us what she had discovered.

  “I walked over to that elevator we used,” Bartlet informed us. “I thought maybe we would need to descend to a lower level and hike beneath the sea, or find some other spot. Well, anyway, that elevator is destroyed. Something smashed, well, looked more like crushed, the permalloy of one of the walls. The whole thing is inoperable.”

  “Crushed the permalloy?” Jane asked. “Did some ship or shuttle crash into it? I did not hear a crash, explosion, or anything like that.”

  “Neither did I,” Bartlet replied. “It is a strange thing. It looks like it was crushed from inside the elevator, not from outside. The damage pushed out the wall. It is just a pile of rubble there. No way down, and not even open, but a wreck. I cannot figure out what did that.”

  “Decompression? Or explosives?” Kulm said out loud. “More likely faulty permalloy construction. If it was spun in the wrong way, then the fibers might not…hum… but it was working when we came up in the elevator, right?”

  “It looked fine to me,” Brett answered.

  “Like I said, I do not have an answer to that,” Bartlet replied.

  “I found something strange as well,” Tudeng said. “These people claim to work catching fish, and yet I walked up the beach to that boathouse, where they are mooring watercraft. Every boat in that place is sitting on the bottom. I could see them through the water. Holes in their hulls, and sides. One was even split down the side so much it was like two halves. It is only about five or so meters deep of water, but every boat sunk? Debris floating around besides the moorings. Some of those boats bows were still tied off to the cleats on the dock.”

  “Did the orcas do that to the boats?” I asked, and immediately felt stupid. I could feel my face turn red with embarrassment.

  “Maybe, since the boats were in the water, but no aquatic mammal, no matter how big, destroyed the elevator,” Bartlet replied. She was kinder than I expected. I guess my statement was not as stupid as it sounded. She then went on, “But something is happening. That was not accidental damage. So, who is sabotaging this island? And why? Someone flooded the lower corridors. Why? Someone destroyed the elevator. Why? Someone sank the boats. Why?”

  “To cut off our ways of escape,” Jane commented.

  “We still cannot make contact either,” Brett said. “I mean, well, did someone follow us up from below? Were we wrong to not post guards on the elevator?”

  “We cannot change the past, but we will learn from it,” Bartlet stated firmly. “What we need to do now is assess this whole island. Pair off and see how many boats were damaged. The library says this island has a small population, and I want everyone questioned. If someone did follow us up using the elevator, and then destroyed it, I want to know why and who that was. Pirates? Criminals? Thugs? Terrorists? Someone did this, and we must not be caught unaware again. Tonight, we post guards, but for now, divide up the island and check it all out. Check every boat, every house, and talk to every person. Someone must have seen something while we were busy with those dying orcas.”

  Tudeng asked, “Did the orcas die because of something related to this? Those slashes on the orcas could have been a propeller on some kind of submarine. I know it would be old technology, but it would fit the wounds, and explain the boats being sunk. Using an unauthorized submersible vehicle would be an ingenious way to sow discord, fear, and civil unrest. Or an abusive tyrant might use a submarine to carry out raids against those who challenge being oppressed.”

  “Smugglers and criminals could use a submarine to commit crimes,” Jane added.

  “But propeller technology is really dated,” Kulm interjected. “Sure, it is fairly easy to make and maintain, but it is noisy, inefficient, and there just are so many better ways to propel a boat, even underwater.”

  “The orcas said there were monsters,” Radha reminded us.

  If anyone else had mentioned that, I would have thought it was a joke, or a wisenheimer remark. From Radha, it was deadly serious.

  “Earle claimed that. I will check with him and see how serious he was,” Bartlet answered.

  “He likes you so much already,” Pilliroog said.

  “Well, pair up and head out. Remember, we are dealing with someone who is willing to destroy property, and maybe deliberately flood corridors. If it is the same person, or group, then our enemy has already killed several people. So, watch out for each other. Our local links are still working so check in with each other often. This island is small, but who knows how many hiding places there are? I am sending you each a map, with selected segments of the island highlighted on it. Search out your section and check everything. Stay together.”

  Bartlet headed back toward where Earle and Sylvia were working with the hydrophone. The rest of us moved out in various directions, depending on what part of the island was highlighted.

  Tudeng came with me as we both had the same section to search. She smiled as we walked off. “No spears with us this day, and those orcas are bigger then tench.”

  I was not sure if she meant that as a joke, or what. “I hope no one, or nothing else, gets hurt today.”

  The greens of that island, Andorja, might have been pretty, as the sky tube’s light shone down on it, but I was thinking that someone was on that island who was our enemy. It was not some simulated training exercise. The dead orcas testified to that fact and convinced me of its reality. Tudeng and I walked along the pathway, and studied everything intently. The day was getting warmer, but I could tell I was in a different biome. The air smelled unusual, the sky tube’s light was a different hue, and the foliage was just unfamiliar, different. Sorry, I said different too much here, but that was my feeling in Foreigner. It was different, foreign.

  The first house we came to was similar to Rolf’s but no one was there. It had been empty for some time. We checked a small boathouse which was on the shoreline there, and it too had boats which were destroyed, sunk, and ruined.

 
“Someone does not want people to leave here,” Tudeng stated.

  We kept on, and saw some sheep, which were grazing on the small hills at the center of the island. There we met some children who were startled by our appearance, but who had not seen anything unusual the night before. Those children, roughly about six years old, led us to their parents. The parents also had not seen or heard anything strange. They did not know about the boats. They raised the sheep for wool, meat, and also tended some gardens. I was unsure if we should tell them about the orcas, but Tudeng went ahead and explained what we had already seen. Those people were shocked and scared.

  Another boathouse further along the way was just empty.

  At around noon, we stopped to eat a meal, and made a report.

  “Bartlet?” Tudeng called in. “We have found more ruined boats, but nothing else. The locals we have encountered know nothing more than we do.”

  “That is what the others are finding as well,” Bartlet relayed. There was a catch in her voice which alerted me to something.

  “Is there more?” I asked.

  “Matkaja and Kulm found something else, just a few moments ago,” Bartlet replied. “I am sorry.”

  “What?” I could barely look at the images coming in on the display. I was dumbfounded and confused. I flipped off the visual images, and checked for where Matkaja and Kulm were located. I took off running.

  Tudeng kept up with me, but was glancing at her wristwatch display. The pathways which crisscrossed that island were easy to run along, and that island was pretty small so I got to Matkaja and Kulm quickly. It seemed like forever, but my wristwatch said it was a short time, and that I had run very rapidly. Not that running quickly made any difference to what I found when I got there, but I do remember the readings from my wristwatch.

  I rounded a bend in the pathway, and there was a small cove. The rocks which were ubiquitous on the shore were piled higher around that cove. The sandy part of the beach was only about two meters wide there. Matkaja and Kulm were standing by what they had found.

  Lying on the sands, water lapping all around, were Socks and Toughie. Well, at least, what was left of them were there. Each dog’s body was shredded with slashes and tears. Their pretty fur was matted with blood and torn flesh.

  I fell to my knees and cried out, “Why do they kill dogs! Why! I hate it!”

  Matkaja and Kulm had reddened eyes, and I knew they had been crying as well. Tudeng patted my shoulder in an attempt to comfort me, but I shrugged it off.

  “Why kill the dogs?” I asked again.

  “I suppose the dogs were able to track the criminals,” Jane said as she ran up from a different direction. “Last night they were alerting us about the enemy, not about the orcas. Families around here say their dogs are missing, and now we find these two dead. Dogs are excellent guards.”

  I stood up and looked at the sands around the bodies. My own footprints were there, as were what I assumed were Matkaja’s and Kulm’s. But I saw no dog footprints.

  “They were not killed here,” Jane said, just as I came to the same realization. “The rocks around this cove conceal and hide this place. The bodies were dumped here.”

  “But I see no evidence someone carried them,” Matkaja added. “When we got here, there was nothing in the sand around them.”

  “Then they were carried on the waters. More evidence of some kind of submersible vehicle,” Tudeng said.

  “But why throw them up on the beach? They could have been dropped into the sea?” I asked. “This was done to torment us. Deliberate, cruel, wicked torment.”

  All of our wristwatches alerted and Bartlet’s voice came on from each one. “Would you please come back here. I think we have some more evidence.”

  “Returning,” Jane replied.

  Tudeng and Matkaja departed with her. Kulm and I buried the dogs. We said nothing to each other, but he grabbed up Socks and I picked up Toughie. We walked a way up the hill and found a spot where the earth was soft. Kneeling down, we dug the grave with our bare hands. Then we carefully laid each dog into it. Then we piled some of the stones from the cove over the top so that no scavengers would disturb them. That was one of the few burials I was ever able to give my friends.

  We trotted back to Rolf’s place is silence. I know I cried as we ran. Bartlet just looked briefly at us and nodded. She was in the middle of some explanation, but Earle and Sylvia were standing behind her.

  “… agree. But he claims this is true. Unless we can make a connection, so that the lattice of compeers can confirm this, I think it is best we accept it for now,” Bartlet stated.

  “Bartlet is right,” Pilliroog affirmed, as everyone expected. “So, what do we do now?”

  “Just wait a moment, or ten,” Brett said. “I know we read about sea monsters and things like that, which sank boats, and killed things. That was in fiction, here we have some real-life boats that were sunk. We have dead orcas, and now…” he looked over at Kulm and Me. He did not finish what he was about to say.

  Jane interjected, “It seems that the island’s dogs are missing. The criminals must be doing that for a reason. To hide their activity.”

  I blurted out, “I hate it when they kill dogs.”

  “Right, but who?” Timofei said, “This clown of a scientist makes outlandish claims which cannot be verified. They are so outrageous, well, I just think Occam’s razor applies. We have a set of facts, evidence, and the simplest answer is that some renegade people are doing criminal activities. That theory has the fewest assumptions and seems far more likely to be accurate.”

  Earle sputtered and shook his fists. “I just explained it all to you impertinent children, including the messages from the orcas, and you want to debate long dead philosophers and their ideas? We must take action now!”

  I felt the dirt under my fingernails, and looked out beyond where the discussion was happening. Seeing the beach, I just bluntly asked, “Action? So, when will you bury the orcas? Or what happens to them?”

  Earle turned on me with a sneer. “I am not a manual labor…”

  “Normally, we would call in a removal crew, and vodnee and botanical automacubes would come and rectify that,” Sylvia interrupted. “Without being able to contact anyone, those corpses will decompose naturally, and that could take years. Burial might…”

  Earle interrupted her. “Do not give credence to that child’s blather! Rotting flesh is of no concern right now! The orcas said there is a monster…”

  I was incensed. “You said that yesterday, and now the orcas are dead. Prove what you are claiming! I say those poor orcas dealt with a submarine and called it a monster. Your spouting off fairytales will not stop these criminals.”

  “Agreed!”

  “I know that is right!”

  “You tell him Kal!”

  I was not looking for support, so much, but it felt good to have the others back me up. So, I pressed the point, “You call for action, but take no action yourself. I ask you again, what action do we take? What do you expect us to do? No boats. No communication links. No idea where this enemy is located. What is your plan?”

  Earle looked sternly at me, but then averted his eyes. “I must talk to someone in authority. You bad-mannered children must have messed up the communication links. I have vital information about the monster, which is not a submarine, for your information smarty-pants, but something else…” He trailed off as he looked away.

  “What? What is it?” I barked at him. “Your insults are not taking action. What is the monster if it is not a submarine? How would an orca describe a submarine of unknown construction or design? So, just answer the simple question, what action do you propose?”

  “I will talk to someone of proper stature and not unpleasant children who do not know their proper place! How dare you think to lecture me? I will tell you, little boy…”

  “Earle stop.” Sylvia put a hand on Earle, and led him away. He was muttering something about whale songs, and translations, and how
his slate would run a conversion program or something about orcas’ songs translated into human speech, but I could not follow all he was jabbering about. Maybe I was just too angry, or he was, or whatever.

  “Bartlet?” Tudeng asked. “Kalju is right. Something does need to be done with the dead whales. They will begin to stink, and then there will be problems with diseases, or scavengers.”

  Carol spoke up. “I did a survey as we walked. On this island, there are three horticultural automacubes, one engineering, and one transport. From what I learned, until a few weeks ago, there were a dozen vodnee automacubes working with the fishermen and helping them out. Then those vodnees were just gone. Disappeared. Jandrea said when they requested information on that, the Marathon Defense Force said it was classified. My guess is those vodnees went on that Operation Barnacle, and are deployed elsewhere.”