Since the Society of Whale and Dolphin Research had approached him for a possible grant, he had become increasingly interested in this species of mammals that exhibited such a plethora of communication and reasoning strategies. But Purdue did not want to spend his time on the azure beauty of the water researching, or devising, anything. This trip was solely to baptize his new vessel and have a bit of a break from science — as if David Purdue knew the meaning of the word.
The sun stung his Scottish hide, but he welcomed the mild torment of its attention, not so much for some color, but to take in the much-needed vitamins it yielded. He was far from malnourished, but he reckoned a little sunshine a few days out of the year would combat some of the deprivation Edinburgh afforded him in this regard.
As the southeastern breeze brushed over the surface of the sapphire water of the Alboran Sea, the playboy sat back with a cold beer, trying to take in this unusual moment of relaxation. He never rested on his laurels just because he was insanely wealthy. On the contrary, Purdue was always working. It was a pleasure to explore, invent, and discover, but these pleasures also took their toll on him when he forgot to rest in between. His white hair frolicked in the occasional high gusts of salty air and he closed his eyes momentarily.
Purdue’s hired yacht crew was enjoying the clear weather, but they did not neglect their duties while their employer had his eyes shut in a rare recess. The skipper elegantly kept to their course while chatting to the on-board mechanic about good fishing areas.
Overhead, several seagulls chanted in unison, casting brief flashes of shadow over Purdue’s eyelids. Their rapid movement instilled a strange apprehensive uneasiness in him. At once, his eyes sprang open as if he had been jolted in his seat. For no apparent reason, he felt compelled to look into the water, where at once he noticed a drifting object, small, red, and buoyant.
“Bring me one of those scanners, Peter,” he called out to one of his crewmen, thinking the red flag as some sort of marker. When Peter looked up, Purdue was hanging, doubled over the starboard, peering into the depths beside the white hull. “The silver and blue one that looks like a compass.” After finding something similar in the billionaire’s hard case, the stocky mariner passed Purdue a small, handheld contraption with which he intended to scrutinize the ocean floor they were sailing over.
“What exactly does it measure, sir?” Peter asked with interest.
“Many things, depending on the setting. Right now I’m just checking the depth down to that shipwreck.” Purdue then lurched, putting the device just under the surface of the water.
“Isn’t that just a fancy variation of a metal detector?” Amelie teased. She was Purdue’s personal cook for the duration of the trip, a personal dietician he had hired to curb his cholesterol and monitor his general high blood pressure problems. High blood pressure was a new ailment Purdue had never suffered before, but he knew he was not invincible. Richer than Midas, yes, but still physically fallible.
“No, of course not,” she heard him protest from the other side of the railing. “I don’t waste my time with simple snufflers, Amelie, and you know it.”
“Snufflers,” she grinned, amused.
Peter chuckled with her. Purdue was especially fun when he had to defend technological advancements against laymen. It was no secret to his close-knit team of technicians and staff that Purdue had no respect for any machine created by basic construct. He was rather a fan of those peculiar creations that aimed at what most would construe as ‘out there,’ the underdogs of invention.
“Shipwreck?” Peter asked after he stopped snickering.
“Yes, there is some substantial wreckage lying right beneath us,” Purdue replied casually as he read the electronic screen of the small device. “Comprised mostly of steel, copper, and…,” he hesitated, trying to make sense of the composition presented by the analysis.
“And?” Peter asked.
Purdue writhed his tall lanky body back to vertical proportions and gave out a hard sigh of amazement. He pinched one eye shut and looked at Peter and Amelie. “Bone, I think. As far as my knowledge of biological chemical construction holds, at least.”
“Bone? I’m sure there are bone fragments in all shipwrecks, sir,” Peter speculated. “After all, they do make up quite a lot of independent ecosystems, dead ships. They’re bound to have some whale bone and such down there.”
Purdue scoffed with a smile and walked over to Peter, holding the screen out to him. Towering over the crewman, Purdue explained the composition to him by pointing out the structural differences. “I understand what you’re saying, old boy, but look, this reading is…” His long slender fingers expertly manipulated the buttons to yield a calculation result that looked more complicated than the first combination Peter had seen. “Human.”
Peter stared at Purdue in astonishment, yet the billionaire genius only grinned, “A composition of salts containing calcium and phosphate, mostly. Intrigued yet?” he asked Peter. The crewman nodded profusely, his eyes still widened by surprise.
“I knew you couldn’t just sit back and sip cocktails like other normal playboys,” Amelie sighed. Purdue chuckled as he sauntered toward her, “Oh, come now, dear. Tell me you aren’t just a little curious about this discovery.”
“I do not contest the excitement of it, Mr. Purdue,” she replied. “All I’m saying is that you even without bringing most of your toys along with you on this trip, you simply cannot do without exploration of some sort. I do find it admirable. Don’t get me wrong. I just somehow knew you were incapable of not wracking your brain over something for the duration of this trip.”
“Then you know me better than you know my eating habits, dear Amelie,” he gloated, lifting the machine and its intriguing reading victoriously above his head.
The afternoon sun turned his body into a silhouette with a halo. Amelie just shook her head, still shielding her eyes from the glare with her right hand. Her skin was tingling from the harsh heat of the bright Mediterranean rays, and the untainted blue of the sky was no solace. The lack of decent wind movement on the sea made for a piping hot day, even by the standards of Hellenic or Egyptian measures. Only the lapping of the weak swells against the vessel made for any sound. They were still far away from land, so Amelie retreated to the luxury of the air-conditioned cabin below deck.
“Human bone, sir?” Peter asked Purdue with no small measure of fascination. “I feel a dive coming on.”
Purdue nodded happily, but his face appeared to hide more. Peter cocked his head with a twinkle in his eye. “What is it? Do tell, Mr. Purdue, if you please.”
His employer sighed as he perused the data once more. His light blue eyes shot up at Peter’s as he replied quietly, “The quantity is very interesting, my friend.”
“The quantity?” Peter asked, joined by Jeff, another crewman who specialized in diving and recovery.
“There seems to be, according to this, a vast amount of human bone down there. I dare say, a good vault full of dead human carcasses. Now, I don’t know about you gentlemen, but that is macabre to an irresistible level for me. Can we dive in say, an hour, Jeffrey?” he asked the diving expert.
“Of course, sir,” Jeff agreed, surveying the weather conditions and position of the sun. “If we make it relatively quick, I don’t see why not.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” Purdue smiled.