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Authors: Brian Herbert, Jan Herbert
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sighed. If he thought he could get away with it, he would take his grandfather up in the air and dump him into the ocean—but every scenario he’d come up with had so many flaws that he was too nervous to try one.
Now the ‘copter flew over the seashore at the end of the valley, the muliwai where the creek flowed into the sea, and then headed out over the sparkling ocean. In the distance Jeff saw the fishing boat that he was going to rendezvous with, waiting for him just far enough offshore that no one on the land would see what they were doing.
Presently he was hovering above the boat (though he could have landed on the pontoons), and he saw two crewmen waving to him from the deck. Touching a toggle, Jeff lowered the basket on its winch-line, and watched while the men tossed a bundle of marijuana into it. This was supposed to be an especially high-grade of weed grown in northern California—on marijuana farms hidden in the deep woods. Whenever the feds found one operation there, ten more popped up to take its place, and anyone captured running the operation was only an underling who didn’t know who his superiors were up the distribution chain.
Jeff watched as a second, smaller parcel was loaded into the basket, and everything was secured. This parcel was supposed to be pure cocaine.
He brought the load up and dumped the basket onto the floor beside him. Keeping the aircraft controls on an automatic setting, he used a knife to slit open both parcels, and tasted the contents. It was all high-quality stuff; he had not expected otherwise, and had never had any problems with this supplier.
He tossed a waterproof bag of cash down on the boat’s deck, watched one of the crewmen catch it and wave.
Jeff kept the aircraft in place for a couple of minutes more, while he used strong tape to re-seal the bags, so that he could drop them in the jungle and retrieve them later from the ground.
With another purchase completed, Jeff banked the helicopter and headed back for the island of Loa’kai.
At dinner that evening in the hotel cafeteria, Alicia heard that ranch hands had just discovered the bodies of eighteen baby porpoises at Ha’ini Beach, one of the smaller beaches on the Ellsworth Ranch, and near the bodies were large chunks of dead coral.
She wondered what possible connection there could be between these grim discoveries and the poisonous fish attacks at Olamai Beach. She mentioned this to Johnny Lisboa, who sat at an adjacent table, eating a bowl of Portuguese soup, a thick, rich broth of wild boar meat, beans, and vegetables.
One of the handlers who worked with dolphins and porpoises at the aquatic park, the slender man said, “The most ominous, perhaps, is the dead coral, because of all the organisms that live in coral reef ecosystems. Entire food chains depend on those ecosystems, ultimately affecting many creatures of the sea, including jellyfish and porpoises. In one way of looking at it, the ocean is a single life form.”
Another handler joined the conversation, a brunette woman that Alicia didn’t know well. The woman mentioned what Alicia had already seen, that the handlers were having trouble with dolphins and porpoises at the aquatic park, who were resistant to performing their customary tricks in front of audiences.
“I think it’s all related,” Lisboa said, “and the common factor is the sea. The aquatic-park pools are seawater. It’s as if a sickness is affecting this region. Maybe a lethal virus in the food chain or even in the water itself, I don’t know. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Nor have I,” the woman said.
Alicia ate the rest of her meal slowly, listening to the conversation, the confusion, and the lack of answers. The strange events seemed to be tied together; everyone agreed on that. But no one knew why they were happening.
***
Chapter 10
The morning after the jellyfish and stonefish attacks, Kimo negotiated a narrow cliffside trail, walking on red and black
Now the ‘copter flew over the seashore at the end of the valley, the muliwai where the creek flowed into the sea, and then headed out over the sparkling ocean. In the distance Jeff saw the fishing boat that he was going to rendezvous with, waiting for him just far enough offshore that no one on the land would see what they were doing.
Presently he was hovering above the boat (though he could have landed on the pontoons), and he saw two crewmen waving to him from the deck. Touching a toggle, Jeff lowered the basket on its winch-line, and watched while the men tossed a bundle of marijuana into it. This was supposed to be an especially high-grade of weed grown in northern California—on marijuana farms hidden in the deep woods. Whenever the feds found one operation there, ten more popped up to take its place, and anyone captured running the operation was only an underling who didn’t know who his superiors were up the distribution chain.
Jeff watched as a second, smaller parcel was loaded into the basket, and everything was secured. This parcel was supposed to be pure cocaine.
He brought the load up and dumped the basket onto the floor beside him. Keeping the aircraft controls on an automatic setting, he used a knife to slit open both parcels, and tasted the contents. It was all high-quality stuff; he had not expected otherwise, and had never had any problems with this supplier.
He tossed a waterproof bag of cash down on the boat’s deck, watched one of the crewmen catch it and wave.
Jeff kept the aircraft in place for a couple of minutes more, while he used strong tape to re-seal the bags, so that he could drop them in the jungle and retrieve them later from the ground.
With another purchase completed, Jeff banked the helicopter and headed back for the island of Loa’kai.
At dinner that evening in the hotel cafeteria, Alicia heard that ranch hands had just discovered the bodies of eighteen baby porpoises at Ha’ini Beach, one of the smaller beaches on the Ellsworth Ranch, and near the bodies were large chunks of dead coral.
She wondered what possible connection there could be between these grim discoveries and the poisonous fish attacks at Olamai Beach. She mentioned this to Johnny Lisboa, who sat at an adjacent table, eating a bowl of Portuguese soup, a thick, rich broth of wild boar meat, beans, and vegetables.
One of the handlers who worked with dolphins and porpoises at the aquatic park, the slender man said, “The most ominous, perhaps, is the dead coral, because of all the organisms that live in coral reef ecosystems. Entire food chains depend on those ecosystems, ultimately affecting many creatures of the sea, including jellyfish and porpoises. In one way of looking at it, the ocean is a single life form.”
Another handler joined the conversation, a brunette woman that Alicia didn’t know well. The woman mentioned what Alicia had already seen, that the handlers were having trouble with dolphins and porpoises at the aquatic park, who were resistant to performing their customary tricks in front of audiences.
“I think it’s all related,” Lisboa said, “and the common factor is the sea. The aquatic-park pools are seawater. It’s as if a sickness is affecting this region. Maybe a lethal virus in the food chain or even in the water itself, I don’t know. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Nor have I,” the woman said.
Alicia ate the rest of her meal slowly, listening to the conversation, the confusion, and the lack of answers. The strange events seemed to be tied together; everyone agreed on that. But no one knew why they were happening.
***
Chapter 10
The morning after the jellyfish and stonefish attacks, Kimo negotiated a narrow cliffside trail, walking on red and black
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