Far From The Sea We Know

by Frank M Sheldon

CHAPTER 33

  Morning came, and the sun soon burned through the mist in golden silence. Even out here, part of that haze was air pollution, but today Penny didn’t care. Matthew was still away somewhere.

  After a quick breakfast, she went back to her cabin to get her laundry. The rest of the morning she spent washing clothes and straightening out her gear, making some notes, putting things in order. After a while, she lay down on the bunk for a quick break.

  When she awoke, almost two hours had disappeared forever. She dabbed a little water from her drinking bottle into her eyes, rubbing them gently. It was just the letdown from the intensity of the last week. Could use more sleep, but for now, coffee would have to do.

  As she headed out, she ran into Becka, her face distraught.

  “What’s up?” Penny asked her.

  “They’re taking Jack. The Navy. In a chopper, like the one that brought Lieutenant Chiffrey. They’re already on the way, but we just found out.”

  “Well, the Captain told us at the meeting last night that was the plan. I can’t pretend I’m sorry to see Jack go, but the reasoning probably is that moving him in one quick trip would be less traumatic for him than spending time on another ship with too many new people, then having to do it again on every other leg of the journey back. So, he and Mary go first class.”

  “He’s going to a Navy hospital.”

  Now it was clear. Jack had a way of getting people to listen, and his talent had certainly not gone unnoticed by Chiffrey.

  “I don’t feel good about this,” Becka said. “Who knows what they’ll do to him?”

  “They must be having a hard time hushing up the fact that Lorraine and her team never made it back to the mainland. Plus the loss of their chopper. Keeping Jack out of the light for a while might be a good idea, even if it is Chiffrey’s.”

  “I’m surprised to hear you say that.”

  “It’s a question of how the truth gets told. You know Jack. Even in a private psychiatric hospital, he would find an audience somehow and the next thing you know, we’d have people every which way shoving microphones and cameras at us, asking us about whatever crap Jack puts out. You don’t want that. Chiffrey’s just trying to keep the lid on.”

  “No, he was against sending Jack to the Navy hospital. He told me. Did what he could, but they went over his head.”

  “And you believed him?”

  “In this case, yes.”

  “Listen, one of Chiffrey’s most obvious specialties is damage control. He’s been telling the Captain to be careful of what we say to people off-ship. Did you know that? All our communications are being monitored, and they’ll jam our frequencies if necessary. Chiffrey’s their point man here, for God’s sake, can’t you see that? Work with him we may have to, but not get in bed with him. Figuratively speaking,” she quickly added.

  “You’ve been overreacting to him from his first step onto our deck,” Becka said, as a blush smoldered on her face.

  “No, that came a few minutes later. But so were you as I remember. And now it’s ‘our’ deck?”

  “You don’t have the rights of an heir just because of who your father is.”

  “No, but I don’t like the people who think they smell blood in the water just because he’s getting on in years.”

  “I have only the highest level of respect for your father. He was a pioneer in nearly everything that matters and has done more for marine science than anyone else in the last fifty years. You will not find one particle of malice from me toward him, and you are not as observant as you seem to think you are if you haven’t noticed that.”

  “Fine, I believe you. But Jack was your friend.”

  “I had a good working relationship with him. That does not mean I agreed with him on everything. He just felt we needed to move on with the times. Hating him seems extreme to me.”

  “I don’t hate Jack. I simply despise everything he stands for. He was a treacherous infighter, and now he’s a violent psycho, so I really don’t care where they stash him. My God, Becka, what did you see in that prancing ninny?”

  “Don’t you ever get tired—” Becka yelled.

  “Hey, listen—”

  “No, you listen for once!”

  Penny waited, ready to answer, but Becka didn’t say anything. She stood staring as if frozen for seconds that seemed endless. Then she pushed by and ran off. The look on her face as she passed was of someone who had lost their most important possession.

  Penny suddenly wanted to get off the ship. Just leave all the craziness behind. Saddle her mother’s horse, Akaba, and ride away for a few days. There would probably be extra room on the helicopter, but she would not want to share a metal box with a propeller on top with Jack.

  The Valentina had a flight pad, but it was meant for a small helicopter, not the Navy Sea Stallion with auxiliary fuel tanks they were planning to use to transport Jack. They wanted something big, Chiffrey had explained earlier, so they could make it all the way to the Navy hospital in one go. The Navy finally decided to use the flight pad to gently touch down, while keeping up the throttle. They didn’t want to rattle Ripler any more than necessary, so they would wheel him out at the last minute, while the helicopter came in opposite the windward side.

  Penny waited to see Jack leave, perhaps just to be sure he was really gone, like witnessing an execution. Terrible way to think about it, but true. She’d be happy never to see or hear about him ever again.

  The sound of a helicopter began chopping into her thoughts, cutting in and out until finally shredding the air like a hundred machetes hacking through a pillow factory. She glanced at the aft deck just in time to see Emory, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else, emerge from a hatchway carrying the front handles of a stretcher. Ripler lay quietly, bound by straps around his arms and legs. His eyes were almost closed, and a soporific smile lay on his face as if molded by a skilled mortician. Mary Sims, a scarf around her head, was at his side, holding Jack’s hand and gazing down on him like a post-pubescent cherub. Becka followed, holding the end of the stretcher, and seemed to be having an easier time bearing the weight than Emory. She looked happy again, which Penny found unsettling because she was the only one on deck smiling.

  The sight of Jack sent a noticeable wave of tension through the crew. This was ironic, since he was obviously pumped full of tranquilizers. Many were visibly upset, but no one spoke. Malcolm was crying, something he would not have done before the incident with the whales.

  Penny didn’t feel like crying. On the contrary, she found herself almost giddy, and fought an impulse to sing him off. It would not be taken well, so she let it pass. Good to see him go, though. Good luck and good riddance.

  Mary had always seemed a kind soul at heart, but there had been something too precious about her. What was she getting out of this? Maybe she just desired to be acknowledged in the most explicit way possible. Maybe she loved Jack and was joyous that he finally needed her. Looking at them now, it was clear they were perfect for each other. Creepy perfect.

  The helicopter made its approach, easing in against the wind. It touched down so gently it wouldn’t have cracked an egg. The pilot, who looked like he’d served more than a few years, watched the deck, ignoring the action of the medical techs that opened the side door as they made their descent.

  Emory and Becka moved as fast as they could, but before they could reach the helicopter Jack lurched violently forward against his restraints, and the veins on his neck looked like they would burst. The straps snapped apart, and the momentum threw him upright. His eyes rolled back, and one arm waved listlessly back and forth as if beckoning them all to the depths of his madness. Emory tried to bring Ripler’s arm back down, one-handed, but Jack was too quick and caught him by the throat. Mary stood still as stone. Penny glanced around. No one moved, equal parts of horror and fascination frozen on their faces. Even Becka seemed hypnotized. Andrew was up on the bridge, watching, but made no move. He wouldn’t leave the wheel with the helicop
ter balancing on the pad like an ungainly acrobat.

  Crap!

  Penny leapt forward and with her whole weight and strength tried to Bellch Jack’s hand free, but it was as tight as a C-clamp. Emory began to panic and looked like he was weakening in his own attempts to break away. Ripler’s fingers were like steel.

  “Help me,” she yelled. “Help me, you idiots!” But they still stood staring, as if mesmerized by a passion play whose woeful ending, though infinitely regrettable, was never in doubt.

  “Let go, Jack!” Penny was about to bash his face when another hand joined hers in trying to pull Ripler off. It was Matthew. Ripler still did not budge, but when he saw Matthew he began to speak as if possessed. The pupils of his eyes were little dots in a sea of white. With his free hand, he jabbed a finger at Matthew. “The sea, do you not hear? Warned you…But never mind, never mind…” Ripler laughed then, the pupils of his eyes rolling back to the front. “Jonah on board! Jonaaaaaaaaah! It’s you! It’s youuuuu!” He spat in Matthew’s face, and laughed like a starving hyena.

  Matthew gave Ripler a blow to the shoulder, and his grip loosened enough to pull his hand free from Emory’s throat. Becka snapped out of her trance. She lowered her end of the stretcher and bent over Emory who lay collapsed on the deck. A paramedic appeared with heavy straps and together they got a lock on Ripler’s arm and pinned it down. Jack kept laughing, the pitch rising, louder and louder until it all but drowned out the helicopter. All at once the superhuman strength he had acquired from nowhere left his body, and his muscles had no more tone than a dishtowel. The paramedics cinched Jack tightly to the stretcher, and hustled him into the helicopter. He looked back at them, laughing softly in some kind of delusional ecstasy of triumph.

  Mary seemed to finally have thawed out, perhaps at the sight a paramedic hauling out a large hypodermic, and she picked up her knapsack and dove in after them. Penny could just hear her yelling over the din of the engine, “Be careful. Jack has already had five hundred…” She couldn’t hear the rest, but likely Mary was warning them that he was already saturated with tranquilizers. The paramedic nodded as if assuring her that whatever they were going to give him would not kill him. She saw Mary hugging Ripler as the helicopter rose up and swiftly banked away. Yes, of course, hugs, that’s what the maniac needs, a little tender loving care.

  The chop, chop, chop gradually faded. The Sea Stallion became a dot on the horizon and disappeared. Matthew and Malcolm had helped Emory to his feet. His face was distorted, an agonized gnarl of gray putty. Matthew nodded toward the hatch and they took Emory into the infirmary. The others had come to life, but many just fled the scene. Those who remained stole glances at Penny, but none could take her glaring look for long.

  “Well,” Chiffrey said, coming up behind as he liked to do, “that was downright weird, not to mention stupendously inept. Great that you and Matthew jumped in like that, but my chopper crew saved your ass.”

  “You’re right,” she said. “I didn’t see you pitching in.”

  “Regret to say I was on the horn when Ripler’s lift arrived. Thought it would go like grease in a hot skillet, so I closed the hatch to better hear my call. By the time I arrived, the situation was back in hand.”

  “Yet, somehow you saw enough to make a judgment.”

  He smiled. “I’m pretty good at reading the forensics of an aftermath. Certainly was strange seeing most everyone just standing around like waxworks. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?”

  “I’ll give you points on that as well.”

  “Don’t bother.”

  “You can dish it out…”

  “You really are a prick. Don’t you ever get tired of yourself?” It was a small shock to hear the same words Becka had thrown at her now coming out of her own mouth. She smiled and laughed in spite of herself.

  “Oh, absolutely,” Chiffrey said, and continued to ramble on. “That’s why I’m standing here now, just hoping to bathe a little in your glorious illumination. Whoops, here comes our hero.”

  She swung around to see Matthew striding toward her, a little quicker than usual. He wasn’t smiling and looked only at her.

  “I had been trying to lay low until Ripler was gone,” he said. “Didn’t want to spook him.”

  “Well, he sure didn’t require any help in that department,” Chiffrey said, laughing again. “Our Jack managed to get damn well spooked all on his own and, in the process, did a good job on most of the crew. You don’t look well, Matthew.”

  “I…I’m not feeling very…” He gave Penny a look and said, “There’s something I got to do,” then turned and almost ran away, hunched over a little as he went.

  “Hmm,” Chiffrey said. “Looked like he swallowed a bug. I wonder if—hey, where’re you going?”

  “Got something to do.”