“How… often do you go on your journey?”
Many.
She frowned, suspecting IMIS had mistranslated. “I mean, how many times in a year?”
One.
Alison knew the match for “year” was what the dolphins referred to as a “cycle.”
“One every cycle?”
Yes.
“Why do you go?”
Journey beautiful.
“Yes, it is.”
She couldn’t argue with that. Diving with them near the island of Trinidad was beyond beautiful. An underwater oasis like nothing the team had ever seen.
And the population of dolphins there was simply breathtaking. Thousands, tens of thousands, maybe even hundreds covered the surface of the ocean like a giant, moving sea blanket.
“So, you go because it’s beautiful?”
We go for connect. For strong.
“For connect?”
Yes. And for strong.
It was the first time Alison had seen that word translated: connect. But it verified what she had suspected. It wasn’t just a journey they carried out every year, it was a migration of some kind. A return to something deeper and more meaningful to them. And not just individually, but collectively. As a group. It was culture!
She stared at the screen, reading the translation again. What did “for strong” mean? To strongly connect? For a stronger connection?
“Sally,” she asked. What is so special about your place?”
A beep sounded and IMIS flagged the word “special.” She rephrased.
“Why do dolphins go to that place?”
Place from live.
Alison frowned, unclear on the meaning.
“I don’t understand.”
Place from live. Sally repeated. One cycle.
Alison mumbled to herself, trying to understand. “Yes, every cycle. I understand that.”
Live.
“I don’t understand.” She shook her head. Still at a loss, she decided to try another question. “Sally. Dirk. How far back do you remember?”
The room became silent while she waited for a response. When nothing came, she glanced at the computer screen to see if there was a problem. No errors. “Sally? Dirk?”
No understand Alison. Dirk replied.
Alison opened her mouth to say it a different way but stopped abruptly. Rephrasing the question suddenly appeared more difficult than she thought.
“I mean, how do your-” she stopped again. Dammit. How the hell would someone describe a memory?
“Sally. Dirk. Do you know yesterday?”
Yes.
“Do you know yesterday yesterday?”
Yes. Yes. Dirk followed his response with a laugh. Alison frowned again.
“I mean, do you know yesterday’s yesterday?”
Yes.
“Do you know yesterday’s yesterday’s yesterday?”
On the other side of the glass, Sally’s dark eyes glanced at Dirk and then back at Alison. She wondered if Alison were joking herself.
Three day back. Yes.
From the edge of the desk, Alison smiled. “Do you know ten days back?”
This time Sally’s response came quickly. Alison you play?
“No, I’m not playing.”
Dirk edged closer to her. Yes Alison. We know ten day. We know hundred day. We know all day. You question funny.
Alison grinned. “How many days back do you know?”
All day.
“How many cycles back?”
All cycle.
“More than a hundred?”
Yes.
Finally, Alison asked the question she had been trying to work toward. “How do you know more than a hundred cycles back?”
Sally’s response was exactly what Alison was hoping for.
Heads.
“You mean your elders?”
Yes. Heads.
“You know from your heads? Do they teach you?”
Yes. Heads teach all.
How many elders are there?
Many.
Alison stared at them, momentarily transfixed. Their elders taught them. And they taught them things older than they were. Her excitement was swelling. If what Sally and Dirk just told her was correct, it was big. Huge. It meant that dolphins had more than just language and culture. They had history!
Alison remained quiet, excitedly thinking through the impact of what Dirk and Sally had just said. More questions began filling her head. If there was a historical lineage, it meant a cognitive progression. More than just memories or culture, it explained why their intelligence was so much more advanced than many other animals. Real knowledge had many components, not the least of which were lessons or learnings passed down through multiple generations. Knowledge that could lead in so many different directions.
Alison was looking for a pen and paper when she was suddenly interrupted.
“Miss Alison!”
She spun around to find Bruna behind her, eyes wide with excitement.
“Bruna. Is something wrong?”
“Miss Alison. Come! Come quickly!”
“What is it?”
“Come! Come!”
Alison pushed away from the desk only to watch Bruna turn and rush back toward the entrance. She instinctively fell in behind her, trotting until they reached the doorway.
Bruna promptly opened one of the large doors and disappeared.
Alison caught the door before it closed, pulling it open again to peer down the hall. All she could see was Bruna hurrying away and quickly disappearing around the far corner.
When Alison caught up, coming around the same corner, she stopped dead in her tracks.
There in front of her in the lobby stood Lara and Ricardo Santiago, the parents of young Sofia. They were standing side by side. Lara’s eyes were red and swollen from crying.
Alison stared at them. Her face suddenly drawn. Oh no. Not Sofia. Not already!
“Mr. and Mrs. Ricardo,” her voice trembled. “W-what is it?”
Lara Ricardo gulped back a sob and looked at her husband. Without a word she turned slightly and took a step to the side. There was someone standing behind her. It was Sofia.
Alison was overwhelmed with relief, a feeling that was immediately replaced by astonishment. Sofia was not just behind her parents. With the help of crutches, she was actually standing!
There was a loud gasp behind Alison at which point she turned to find DeeAnn, stunned and frozen with her own mouth open.
“Sofia! You’re standing!”
Balancing carefully between the metal crutches, the young girl was beaming at both women. Next to Sophia, her mother began crying again.
“She’s getting stronger!”
18
Minutes later, Alison was sprinting at full speed back down the hallway. She burst through the double doors and continued across the room where she raced up the wide stairs. At the top, she continued until she reached the lab. In one motion she yanked the door open and rushed in, finding all three of the guys at Lee’s desk.
“Something wrong?”
She didn’t respond. Instead, she quickly crossed the room. Their expressions grew more concerned as she approached.
When she reached the desk, her eyes were on Chris, gazing at his face. She examined both cheeks and stepped back. “Take off your shirt.”
“What?”