Squeak was suddenly certain that this was what the Grandfather had been talking about. Some never get the chance to find their song. But if the Grandfathers knew about these calves, why had they not told anyone before now? Or if they had shared the knowledge with orcas in the past, why had Squeak never heard of it? She could ask them, of course, but to do so would risk giving herself away to the tail-biters. And dare she presume that the Grandfathers would answer her call twice in as many tides? No, Squeak decided to wait and discuss it with her mother when she returned.
In the meantime, she threw her energies into continuing the language lessons. Eventually her charges' enthusiasm waned and they returned to their mothers to feed.
****
Finally Squeak's own mother returned. They rubbed cheeks and Tailspinner started to say something, but Squeak interrupted her, "Mother, I have the most amazing news!"
"Squeak, this isn't like you," her mother admonished her and Squeak lowered her head. "I was able to get a message through to my sister Swims-in-the-Reaches. She thinks her pod will be willing to accept us! But we have to leave now. I think I may have been followed."
"That's wonderful, mother," Squeak cried. "But I have to tell you something too! The calves here, some of them can speak!"
"What do you mean, they can speak? They're Songless whales."
"That's just it-they aren't Songless! They're like us. Come, let me show you-" Squeak started to turn but then a stunning blast of sound struck her full in the face.
The next few moments were a confused jumble of noises for Squeak. There was her mother's roar of rage, the thrashing of embattled water, and Hammerhead's voice shouting about lies and punishment. Somehow she found the presence of mind to move somewhere, anywhere, just as a snarling form surged through the water toward her. Teeth that would have torn her open scraped her side instead.
"Stop! Please stop!" she cried. "This isn't important any more! There are calves here, real calves, and they need our help!"
But the tail-biters didn't listen. Two sonar beams homed in on Squeak. She twisted, attempting to elude them-and then there was an explosive impact as another orca swept in from behind her to collide with one of her attackers. It gave a shrill, wordless cry and Squeak knew who it was immediately. A similar cry came from above, and the second of Squeak's two suitors joined the fray. Soon the water was filled by an impenetrable cacophony of bow waves, tail shocks, and dueling echolocation beams.
Moments later Hammerhead called a retreat and the violence ceased. "I see you've found a home among the other genetic refuse," he taunted. "We'll have to come back later and exterminate the lot of you." And then there was only the sound of their vanishing tail-strokes.
Immediately, Squeak's mother was swimming around her, running her sonar beam all over her calf. "Are you hurt?"
"No," Squeak said distractedly. "Why didn't they listen?"
"What about this?" Squeak's mother indicated where one of the brothers had caught her.
"It's nothing." Squeak waved her jaw about, listening for her two suitors. The taste of blood filled the water. "What about those two orcas that helped us?"
Tailspinner scanned the area and Squeak caught a pair of reflections hovering nearby. "They seem okay. As soon as the tail-biters realized they were in a fair fight, they turned tail. Who are those two?"
"They're-they're from this pod. Listen, mother, we have to go back. We have to tell everyone that there are sapient orcas here!"
"Oh, bitesize, what would be the point of that? Even if they believed you, what could they do?"
"Teach them to speak. Teach them to understand the Song. Teach them how to be orcas!"
My love, Squeak's mother sang. "A fine ambition, but how? Kill their mothers and abduct them? Do you think they'll understand?"
Squeak had not thought that far ahead. "No, I guess not." Her head was still a little muddled from the stunning blast. "But-but I could stay."
"You could what? Stay? What do you mean?"
"I could stay and teach them." Squeak spoke slowly, as the thought gradually coalesced in her mind. Of course. Even a defect can be perfect. . . . These calves needed someone to teach them and who better than an otherwise useless defective like Squeak? "They accept me. I know it'll be hard, but I'm certain this is what the Grandfather meant when he told me about finding my song."
"Squeak, enough about the Grandfathers! We can't stay! We have a new home to go to. And the Grabjaws might return. You heard what they said!"
"I'm not afraid of the Grabjaws! They can't fight the whole pod, and if they try we'll just run away! Mother, I can do something here. For the first time I can be more than just an overgrown calf."
Squeak's mother clapped her jaw in impatience. "Squeak, you're speaking like a calf right now. Do you want to live like these pitiful, half-starved creatures? We are orcas! We have our own course to swim. Now let's go!"
"Mother, please . . ."
"Do as I say!" A beam of sound struck Squeak in the face. It took a moment for her to realize it was from her mother.
"Go," choked Squeak. "You can go and I'll stay. You don't have to take care of me any more."
Her mother was silent for a long moment. Then she cried: "Oh, Squeak, is that what this is about? You are all the sea to me. I could never leave you."
"Then stay! Stay with me and help me save these orcas!" Please.
Her mother hesitated. "Squeak, please. Don't ask me to give up everything we have left."
"Everything we have left!" Squeak cried. "What do we have left?"
"We have what we are. Without a pod-a real pod-we are nothing!"
"I've always been nothing," Squeak moaned. Nothing. " This is my chance to be . . . something else."
"Don't say that, Squeak," her mother said quietly. "You're not nothing."
"Mother, I'm staying here. You can go if that's what you want."
Squeak's mother was silent for a long time, running her sonar beam over her calf. At last she said: "The Tailspinner pod. That has a nice ring to it."
"What?" Squeak was startled by the change in subject.
"If we're going to found our own pod of orcas with these calves, it needs a name. And it should be named for the matriarch, don't you think?"
"Yes! Of course!" Squeak let out a long whistle of relief. "Come on, you can meet the nurslings. . . ."
Squeak and her mother swam toward their new home. She didn't know how the Songless whales would react to her mother or how well the two of them would fare on their new diet of wavetails and bottom lice, but she refused to worry. The Grandfathers had entrusted a task to her and she was determined to see it through.
"Thank you. . . ." Squeak whispered.