While undetectable from the island, Georgetown was in fact still visible, albeit barely, from the 38 foot catamaran across the stretch of ocean. Anchored much closer to Little Cayman, the boat sat listless in the gentle ocean swell, swaying side to side just enough to allow the lazy halyard an occasional slap against the aluminum mast. The warm winter breeze flowed gently through the lines and over the sails which were rolled up tight. If close enough, an observer might mistake it for abandoned with no one in sight, though at this distance the only neighbors were seagulls, two of which sat comfortably on the port hull.
A disturbance in the crystal blue water slowly appeared nearby and a ring of bubbles surfaced as a gentle turbulence. A moment later a dark head emerged and looked around. Spotting the aft of the boat, a mask was quickly lifted over the short hair and the man swam forward. Upon reaching the small ladder, he gently tossed the mask and snorkel aboard and with surprising ease pulled his upper body quickly out of the water, allowing his legs to find the rungs. He reached back and unbuckled each fin, tossing them up and grabbing his towel in the same motion.
He retrieved a bottle of orange juice from the small refrigerator and went forward to relax on the trampoline. Peering at the larger island he could make out the faint image of a jet ski skirting across the water. It amazed him how many people loved noise. Insistent that they need a break from the grind, they travel to a remote area to unwind only to shop with a thousand other tourists or zip across the bay on a rocket running at 80 decibels. He smiled to himself and tipped his orange juice in their direction.
To each his own, he thought. He should in fact be thankful. If they were not over there, they would probably be here next to him. With that, he stood up and squinted at the glimmering horizon. Having to decide what to do every day was just the type of problem he wanted.
His body suddenly stiffened. The sound was extremely faint but unmistakable and he felt a flutter of grim acceptance before reaching for the binoculars. He wiped the water from his face and peered through the lenses. He stood, watching stoically as the tiny black dot in the distance slowly grew into the recognizable shape of a helicopter.
3
It had always surprised Chris Ramirez how busy Fridays were. He would have guessed a Saturday or Sunday but the last day of the school week was always the busiest, thanks to all the nearby schools and their field trips which meant playing host for four exhausting hours. An obligation Chris had finally been freed from just three weeks earlier with the hiring of a new tour guide. Of course, now he had to admit that giving the tours to the kids was not all bad. It was the fact that their retention levels dropped to zero once they were through the front door that bothered him. From there, they could see the aquarium’s star attractions, dolphins Dirk and Sally. Not that he would have been any different at their age.
He strolled through the empty lobby sipping his coffee. As he approached, he smiled at Betty behind the information desk and his replacement, Al, who was looking over his schedule and straightening his tie. What a beautiful day these new Fridays were now that it allowed him to return to his real work.
Chris glanced at his watch; thirty minutes until the doors opened. He headed downstairs to the bottom level of the main aquarium. There, he stood before the giant wall of glass, holding back more than a million gallons of water. On the other side the gentle rays of sun were already illuminating the water with a soft shade of blue from the tank’s open top. He watched both shadows dart back and forth effortlessly through the rays of sunlight, the dolphins swimming about with a grace of which only they were capable. He looked higher at the third shape. It waved to him at which point he smiled and waved back with a gentle swipe of his coffee cup. The figure turned and swam back toward Dirk and Sally. With that Chris walked down the hall to the aquarium’s private rooms and dropped his backpack onto the desk.
Swimming with dolphins was beyond what most could imagine, and she should know, she did it as often as possible. She rarely missed a Friday as it was the one day that the aquarium opened late, leaving a forty-five minute window between feeding time and opening time. Over the last five years, Dirk and Sally had especially come to enjoy their swims together, it was more than obvious. They constantly swirled around her, letting her run her hands over their slick bodies, and in turn, would playfully bump her as they passed beneath. She looked at her watch, gave them one last pat, and headed for the ladder.
Alison Shaw surfaced and held onto the ladder while she cleared her mask. She noticed a distorted shape quickly approach and looked up, removing her foggy goggles to see Chris smiling down at her.
“Weren’t you just downstairs?” she asked, brushing hair out of her eyes.
He did not answer.
Alison looked up again with a squint. “Something wrong?” He continued to beam. “Why are you smiling?”
He bent down. “I think you’re going to want to see this.”
Her eyes shot open. “IMIS?”
Chris grabbed her hand, pulling her out of the water with one hand, and handing her a towel with the other. She stepped out, quickly dried off and pulled a long sleeve shirt and shorts out of her bag. She and Chris had been friends for years, but he still snuck a glance now and then at her trim figure. A few inches shorter than average, she was still far from the norm when it came to female marine biologists. Hurrying to get her sandals on, they ran across the viewing area and into the building.
They burst into the research area to find Lee Kenwood in his usual spot, at a large desk crammed with monitors and keyboards with cables snaking all over the floor, something Alison always imagined the bowels of a phone company to look like. Behind Lee and against the wall were several tall metal racks holding dozens of computer servers each. In the middle section of one of the center racks stood a monitor, keyboard, and mouse, used for manually controlling any of the one-inch thick machines even though it was something Lee rarely had to do anymore. With the myriad of systems on his own desk, he could now just as easily connect to the servers remotely.
The wall opposite the servers was part of the dolphin’s tank, constructed in clear glass to allow optimal visibility for study. Before the thick glass, stood six mechanical apparatuses of varying height and complexity with a digital video camera perched on top of each. Around the room were several dozen books and journals on topics ranging from marine biology, to language analysis, to writing code in various computer languages.
Alison made it to Lee’s desk before her wet bag even hit the carpeted floor. “What is it?”
He looked through his rectangular glasses at Chris. “Didn’t you tell her?”
She pushed her way in front of the screen. “Tell me what? What is it?!”
He gently pushed himself away from his desk, rolling out of the way and allowing her a closer view. “Looks like it’s done.”
“Are you sure?!” she asked looking back at the tank. She could see Dirk and Sally on the far side anticipating the first wave of children.
Kenwood grinned “Pretty sure.” He rolled closer again and clicked the mouse bringing columns of various numbers and results onto the screen. “See…Frequencies…Octave Ranges…Inflection Points-”
“What about Inter-click Interval and Repetition Rates?” She scanned the large monitor excitedly.
“Right here. And we have multiple video positions for each of them.”