Read Online Ocean: The Sea Warriors by Brian Herbert, Jan Herbert - Free Book Online
Authors: Brian Herbert, Jan Herbert
Ads: Link
open, and even though the girl did not look, she knew it was Dr. Halberton from his soft tone and precise, Queen’s English. With her back to him, she stood staring glumly out her barred window, in the direction of the sea. A thick fog lay over the English village, preventing her from seeing the water, but she knew where it was nonetheless All her life, no matter where she was, she always knew the direction of the ocean from her, and always wanted to be as close to it as possible.
“Have you ever heard of the Sea Warriors?” he asked. “A radical ocean-rights organization?”
The question startled her, and she turned her head slowly to stare at him blankly.
“Well, have you?” His dark features were intense, but not severe. Usually he looked exceedingly kind to her, but sometimes she worried that he only used that demeanor to draw information out of her—precious secrets from her innermost, autistic world.
He held up a small computer, which looked familiar; she had seen her father with one like it. The black, overweight doctor walked over to her, and let her see the screen. It showed a website entitled SEA WARRIORS, with a list of names, two or three hundred, it looked like. But as she focused more on it, the letters grew blurred. Her arcane inner world had been disrupted, and she’d been brought out of it too quickly, like a diver surfacing too fast.
Scrolling down the list, he pointed to a name. “Do you recognize that one?” he asked.
For hours today, the teenager had been staring toward the sea without interruption—and though she could not actually see it, in her imagination she’d been envisioning herself out there swimming in the water, being soothed and comforted by it. The doctor’s interruption was not welcome.
As moments passed the letters and names began to clear, and she realized she was staring at her own name, right above his pointing forefinger. Even so, she said nothing.
But she felt herself emerging from her displeasure, and from her vision. Her thoughts scurried to organize themselves and transmit messages to her brain.
Sea Warriors? she thought. What on earth is that? And ocean rights? She liked the term, liked the name of the organization, too.
Glancing at Dr. Halberton briefly, she reached out, touched the screen and scrolled it back to an explanation of what the Sea Warriors were all about. She liked what she was reading. She liked it very much—and they had mounted a recruiting program for new members—a program in which only an elite group of humans were being invited, yet all of the invitees might not make the grade and be accepted.
She managed to speak, but haltingly. “How … how did my name get … on this list?”
The doctor shrugged. “They also sent you this letter,” he said, handing a small white envelope to her. It had been opened, which she considered a serious violation of her privacy. Yet she said nothing of this, and examined the one-page communication. Her thoughts were spinning as she again tried to focus, and she had trouble reading the words. She set the letter aside for the moment, on the window sill.
He nodded toward the doorway, and she was surprised to see her parents in the corridor, both dressed in heavy coats that were open at the front.
“I’ll leave you and your family alone,” the doctor said. Then, as he went out into the corridor he handed the small computer to her father. So it was his after all.
Jim McDevitt was a tall man in his late forties, his face ruddy from spending so much time outdoors. An advertising executive, he had a passion for backpacking through the nearby forests. He used to take Gwyneth, her brother, and two sisters with him on those trips, and those times had been better for her than most. Her father knew a lot about the flora and fauna of the woods, and he also spoke of archaeology and history and all sorts of interesting subjects. He was something of an environmentalist regarding trees, but when she asked him one
“Have you ever heard of the Sea Warriors?” he asked. “A radical ocean-rights organization?”
The question startled her, and she turned her head slowly to stare at him blankly.
“Well, have you?” His dark features were intense, but not severe. Usually he looked exceedingly kind to her, but sometimes she worried that he only used that demeanor to draw information out of her—precious secrets from her innermost, autistic world.
He held up a small computer, which looked familiar; she had seen her father with one like it. The black, overweight doctor walked over to her, and let her see the screen. It showed a website entitled SEA WARRIORS, with a list of names, two or three hundred, it looked like. But as she focused more on it, the letters grew blurred. Her arcane inner world had been disrupted, and she’d been brought out of it too quickly, like a diver surfacing too fast.
Scrolling down the list, he pointed to a name. “Do you recognize that one?” he asked.
For hours today, the teenager had been staring toward the sea without interruption—and though she could not actually see it, in her imagination she’d been envisioning herself out there swimming in the water, being soothed and comforted by it. The doctor’s interruption was not welcome.
As moments passed the letters and names began to clear, and she realized she was staring at her own name, right above his pointing forefinger. Even so, she said nothing.
But she felt herself emerging from her displeasure, and from her vision. Her thoughts scurried to organize themselves and transmit messages to her brain.
Sea Warriors? she thought. What on earth is that? And ocean rights? She liked the term, liked the name of the organization, too.
Glancing at Dr. Halberton briefly, she reached out, touched the screen and scrolled it back to an explanation of what the Sea Warriors were all about. She liked what she was reading. She liked it very much—and they had mounted a recruiting program for new members—a program in which only an elite group of humans were being invited, yet all of the invitees might not make the grade and be accepted.
She managed to speak, but haltingly. “How … how did my name get … on this list?”
The doctor shrugged. “They also sent you this letter,” he said, handing a small white envelope to her. It had been opened, which she considered a serious violation of her privacy. Yet she said nothing of this, and examined the one-page communication. Her thoughts were spinning as she again tried to focus, and she had trouble reading the words. She set the letter aside for the moment, on the window sill.
He nodded toward the doorway, and she was surprised to see her parents in the corridor, both dressed in heavy coats that were open at the front.
“I’ll leave you and your family alone,” the doctor said. Then, as he went out into the corridor he handed the small computer to her father. So it was his after all.
Jim McDevitt was a tall man in his late forties, his face ruddy from spending so much time outdoors. An advertising executive, he had a passion for backpacking through the nearby forests. He used to take Gwyneth, her brother, and two sisters with him on those trips, and those times had been better for her than most. Her father knew a lot about the flora and fauna of the woods, and he also spoke of archaeology and history and all sorts of interesting subjects. He was something of an environmentalist regarding trees, but when she asked him one
Similar Books
