Star Trek IV by Vonda N. McIntyre

Author:Vonda N. McIntyre
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pocket Books
Published: 2016-04-11T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

GILLIAN TRIED NOT to be too obvious about hurrying the audience along, but as soon as the last of them finally disappeared through the museum doors, she ran through the lobby, up the spiral staircase, and out onto the deck around the whale tank. George and Gracie sounded and swam toward her, their pectoral fins ghostly white brush strokes beneath the surface. Gillian kicked off her shoes and sat down with her feet in the water. Gracie made a leisurely turn, rolled sideways, and stroked the bottom of Gillian’s foot with her long fin. Her movement set up a wave that sloshed against the side of the tank and splashed over the other side.

Both whales rose and blew, showering Gillian with the fine mist of their breath. Gracie lifted her great head, breaking the surface with her knobby rostrum, her forehead and upper jaw. Unlike wild humpbacks, Gracie and George would come close enough to be touched. Gillian stroked Gracie’s warm black skin. Underwater, the whale’s eye blinked. She blew again, rolled, raised her flukes, and lobbed them into the water. Gillian was used to being splashed.

Both whales seemed upset to Gillian, not agitated but anxious. She had never seen them act like this before. Of course, this was the first time a stranger had ever actually dived in with them, which was probably lucky. Heaven knows enough nuts picked whales to fixate on.

Maybe, Gillian thought, I ought to be surprised nobody ever got in the tank before now. But I should have realized something odd was going on with those two guys, the way they were dressed, and the one so quiet, the other so intense and with so many questions.

“It’s all right,” she said. “Yes, I know.” George nuzzled her leg with one of the sensory bristles on his chin. “It’s okay. They didn’t mean any harm.”

At the sound of footsteps she turned quickly, wondering if the two strangers had returned.

Instead, the director of the Cetacean Institute looked down at her and grinned sympathetically.

“Heard there was some excitement.” Bob Briggs kicked off his shoes and rolled up his slacks too. He sat beside her and eased his feet into the cold water.

“Just a couple of kooks,” Gillian said. But if they were only harmless kooks, she thought, why were they so interested in when we’re letting the whales free?

Gillian wished Bob would leave her alone with George and Gracie. With some effort, she could get along all right with her boss. He was not deliberately malicious, but his offhand condescension annoyed the hell out of her.

“How’re you doing?”

“Fine,” she said. “Just fine.”

“Don’t tell me fish stories, kiddo. I’ve known you too long.”

“It’s tearing me apart!” she snapped.

Damn! she thought. Suckered in again.

“Want to talk about it? It’ll help to get your problems out in the open.”

“You’ve been in California too long,” she said.

She stared at the water and at the two whales drifting just under the surface at her feet. Every few minutes one would rise above the glimmer of water, exhale noisily, inhale softly, and sink again.

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