"Nick phoned it," said Davis. "By short-wave."
"And where the devil did you find the stuff I named?"
"That," said Davis, "is part of the mystery you don't like."
"Right!" said Terry grimly. "I don't like it. I don't think I'll play.
I'll go ashore in the tender."
"Hold it!" said Davis. But he was speaking to the operator of the
tender. The crew-cut Nick was in the act of handing up the first piece
of baggage. Davis waved it back. "I'm sorry," he said to Terry. "We'll
stay at anchor here. If you change your mind, the tender will bring you
out any time."
Terry brought out the sheaf of bills the girl had left in the shop of
the vanished Jimenez. He held them out to the girl. She put her hands
behind her back and shook her head.
"We put you to trouble," she said pleasantly, "and we haven't been frank
with you. That's to make up for it."
"I won't accept it," said Terry stiffly. "I insist."
"We won't have it back," said Davis. "And we insist!"
Terry felt idiotic. There was enough of a breeze to make it impractical
simply to put the batch of bank notes down. They'd blow away. The girl
looked at him regretfully.
"I'm truly sorry," she said. "I planned the way we went after you. You
are exactly the person we're sure to need. We decided to try to get you
to join us. We couldn't explain. So we asked what you were like. And
you're not the sort of person who can be hired to do what he's told and
no questions asked. Captain Horta said you were a gentleman. So since we
couldn't ask you to volunteer blindly--though I think you would
volunteer if you knew what we're about to do--we tried to make you come
for the adventure of it. It didn't work. I'm sorry."
Terry had the singular conviction that she told the exact truth. And she
was a very pretty girl, but she wasn't using her looks to persuade him.
She spoke as one person to another. He unwillingly found himself
mollified.
"Look!" he said vexedly. "I was leaving Manila. I need to be away for a
while. I am coming back. I can do any crazy thing I want for some weeks,
or even a couple of months. But I don't like to be pushed around! I
don't like--"
The girl smiled suddenly.
"All right, I'll keep the money."
The girl smiled more widely and said, "Mr. Holt, we are off on a cruise.
We'll put in at various ports from time to time. We think you would fit
into our party. We invite you to come on this cruise as our guest. You
can be helpful or not, as you please. And we will _not_ try to pay you
for anything!"
Davis nodded. Terry frowned. Then he spoke painfully.
"I have a gift for making a fool of myself," he said ruefully. "When
it's put that way, fine! I'll come along. But I reserve the right to
make guesses."
"That's good!" said Davis warmly. "If you do find out what we won't tell
you, you'll see why we didn't."
He waved to Nick and the tender operator. The parcels came onto the
_Esperance's_ deck. His baggage followed. He picked up one of the new
cardboard parcels and examined its markings.
"This," he said more ruefully still, "has me stymied. I'd have sworn you
couldn't get one of these special tubes nearer than Schenectady, New
York. But you found one in Manila in minutes! How did you do it?"
The girl laughed.
"Terribly simple!" she said. "We'll tell you. But not until we're under
way, or you might be so disgusted with the simplicity of it that you'd
want to go ashore again."
_Two_
The edge of the sun touched the horizon and sank below it, out of sight.
There were magnificent tints in the sky, and the gently rippling harbor
water reflected them in innumerable swirlings of color. The _Esperance_
swayed very slightly and very gracefully on the low swells. In minutes
two of the dungareed members of the ship's company got the anchor up
with professional efficiency. One of them went below, and the
_Esperance's_ engine began to rumble. Davis casually took the wheel, and
the small yacht began to move toward the open sea while Nick played a
salt-water hose on the anchor before lashing it fast. The brief twilight
of the tropics transformed itself swiftly into night. Lights winked and
glittered ashore and on the water.
Terry felt more than a little absurd. The girl said pleasantly, at his
side, "My name's Deirdre, in case you don't know."
"Mine's Terry, but you do know."
"Naturally!" she said briskly. "I should explain that I'm the ship's
cook, and the boys forward aren't professional sailors, and my father
isn't--"
"Isn't in this business for money," said Terry. "It's strictly for
something else. And I don't think it's buried treasure or anything like
that."
"Nothing so sensible," she agreed. "Now, if you want to join a watch,
you'll do it. If you don't, you won't. The port cabin, the little one,
is yours. You are our guest. If you want anything, ask for it. I'm going
below to cook dinner."
She left him. He surveyed the deck again, and presently went back to
where Davis sat nonchalantly by the _Esperance's_ wheel. Davis nodded.
"Now that you've, well, joined up," he said meditatively, "I've been
trying to think how to, well, justify all the mystery. Part of it was
Deirdre's idea. She thought it would make our proposition more
interesting, so you'd be more likely to take it up. But when I think
about explaining, I bog down immediately."
Terry sat down. The _Esperance_ drove on. Her bow lifted and dipped and
lifted and dipped. The water was no longer nearly smooth. There was the
beginning of a land breeze.
"There's _La Rubia_," said Davis uncomfortably. "You outfitted her with
underwater ears and a radar, at least. Was there anything else?"
"No," said Terry curtly. "Nothing else."
"She catches the devil of a lot of fish," said Davis. He frowned. "Some
of them you might call very queer fish. You haven't heard anything about
that?"
"No," said Terry. "Nothing."
"I think, then," said Davis, "that I'd better not expose myself to
scorn. I'd like to be able to read her skipper's mind, though. But it's
possible he simply thinks he's lucky. And it's possible he's right."
Terry waited. Davis puffed on his pipe. Then he said abruptly, "Anyhow
you're a good man at making gadgets. We'll let it go at that, for the
time being."
The sea became less and less smooth. There were little slapping sounds
of waves against the yacht's bow. The muted rumble of her engine was not
intrusive. The breeze increased. Davis gave a definite impression of
having said all he intended to say for the time being. Terry stirred.
"You want me to build a gadget," he said. "To drive fish. Would you want
to give me some details?"
Davis considered. A few drops of spray came over the _Esperance's_ side.
"N-o-o-o," said Davis. "Not just yet. There's a possibility it will fit
in. I'd like you to make one, and maybe it will fit in somewhere. But
_La Rubia's_ the best angle we've got so far. There is one gadget I'd
give a lot to have! You know, a depth-finder. It sends a pulse of sound
down to the bottom and times the echo coming back. Very much like radar,
in a way. Both send out a pulse and time its return."
Terry nodded. There was no mystery about depth-finders or radars.
"We've got a depth-finder on board," said Davis. "If I sail a straight
course and keep the depth-finder running, I can make a profile of the
sea bottom under me. If I had a row of ships doing the same thing, we
could get profiles and have a relief map of the bottom."
"That's right," agreed Terry.
"What I'd give a lot for," said Davis, "would be a depth-finder that
would send spot-pulses, like radar does. Aimed sound-pulses. And an
arrangement made so it could scan the ocean bottom like radar scans the
sky. One boat could make a graph of the bottom in depths and heights,
mapping even hummocks and hills underwater. Could something like that be
done?"
"Probably," Terry told him. "It might take a good deal of doing,
though."
"I wish you'd think about it," said Davis. "I know a place where I'd
like to use such a thing. It's in the Luzon Deep. I really would like to
have a detailed picture of the bottom at a certain spot there!"
Terry said nothing. He'd been made angry, then mollified, and now he
felt tempted to grow angry again. There was nothing definite in what was
wanted of him, after elaborate machinations to get him aboard the
_Esperance_. He was disappointed.
"Good breeze," said Davis in a different voice. "We might as well hoist
sail and cut off the engine. Take the wheel?"
Terry took the wheel. Davis went forward. Four dungareed figures came up
out of the forecastle. The sails went up and filled. The engine stopped.
The motion of the boat changed. More spray came aboard, but the movement
was steadier. Davis came back and took the wheel once more.
"I think," he said, "that we're acting in a way to--hm--be annoying. I
ought to lay my cards on the table. But I can't. For one thing, I
haven't drawn a full hand yet. For another, there are some things you'll
have to find out for yourself, in a situation like this."
"Such as--"
"Well," said Davis with a sudden dogged air, "take those _orejas de
ellos_, for an example. _Ellos_ are supposed to be some sort of beings
at the bottom of the sea who listen to fish and fishermen. It's a
superstition pure and simple. Suppose I said I was investigating the
possibility that there were such--beings. You'd think I was crazy,
wouldn't you?"
Terry shrugged.
"What I am interested in," said Davis, "has enough credit behind it for
me to get some pretty rare electronic parts from the flattop in harbor
back yonder. Nick called them by short-wave, they sent the parts ashore
and gave them to Deirdre, and she brought them out to you."
Terry blinked. Then he realized. Of course, that was where just about
any imaginable component for electronic devices would be found--in the
electronics stores of a flattop! They needed to have such things at
hand. They'd carry them in store. Davis said drily, "They wouldn't
supply parts to a civilian who was investigating imaginary gods or
devils. So what I'm bothered with isn't a superstition. Right?"
"Y-yes," agreed Terry.
It was true. The Navy would not stretch regulations for a crackpot
civilian. It was not likely, either, that Horta would have implied so
definitely that the Philippine Government wanted somebody with Terry's
qualifications to go for a cruise on the _Esperance_.
Deirdre put her head up through the after-cabin hatch.
"Dinner is served," she said cheerfully.
"The wheel," said Davis to Terry.
He went forward. All four of the non-professional seamen came with him
when he returned.
"This is the rest of the gang," said Davis. "You met Nick. The others
are Tony Drake, Jug Bell, and Doug Holmes." He made an embracing gesture
as they shook hands in turn. "Harvard, Princeton, Yale--and Nick's
M.I.T. It's your turn at the wheel, Tony."
One of the four took over. The others filed below after Davis and Terry.
Terry was silent. Davis had wanted to show that he was being
informative, and yet he'd said exactly nothing about the interests or
the purpose of the _Esperance's_ complement.
Dinner in the after-cabin was almost as confusing to Terry. Seen at
close range across a table, the four dungareed young men could not
possibly be anything but college undergraduates. They were respectful to
Davis as an older man and they tended to be a little cagey about Terry,
because he was slightly older than themselves but not an honorary
contemporary. They plainly regarded Deirdre with the warmest possible
approval.
Conversation began, at first cryptic but suddenly only preposterous.
There was an argument about the supposed intelligence of porpoises,
based on recent studies of their brain structure. Tony observed
profoundly that without an opposable thumb intelligence could not lead
to artefacts, and hence no culture and no great effective intelligence
was possible. Jug denied the meaningfulness of brain structure as an
indication of intellect. Intellect would be useless to a creature which
could neither make nor use a tool. Doug argued hotly that the point was
absurd. He pointed to spastic children once rated as morons but actually
having high I.Q.'s. They had intellects, though they had been useless
because of their inability to communicate. But Nick asserted that
without tools they'd have nothing to talk about but food, danger, and
who went where with whom for what. All of which, he observed, needed no
brains.
Davis listened amusedly. Deirdre threw in the suggestion that without
hands or tools an intelligent creature could compose poetry, and Jug
protested that that was nothing to use a brain for--and the talk turned
into a violent argument about poetry. Doug insisted vehemently that the
finest possible intellects were required for the composition and
appreciation of true poetry. Then Davis said, "Tony's still at the
wheel."
The argument died down and the crew-cuts devoted themselves to eating,
so one of them could get through and relieve him.
Afterward, Davis settled down below to a delicate short-wave tuning
process to get music from an improbable distance. Deirdre served Tony
his meal and talked with him while he ate it. Terry went abovedecks and
paced back and forth as the _Esperance_ sailed on through the night.
He couldn't make out anything at all about the crew or the purpose
behind the _Esperance's_ chosen task and purpose. He felt dubious about
the whole business. Like most technically-minded men, he could become
absorbed in a problem, especially if it was a device difficult to design
or a design that somehow didn't work. Such things fascinated him. But
the _Esperance's_ crew was not concerned with a problem like that. There
was no pattern in their talk or behavior to match the way a technical
mind would go about finding a solution. The problem was bafflingly
vague, yet there _was_ one.
_La Rubia_ was an element in it. Possibly Davis' wistful mention of a
partial map of the bottom of the Luzon Deep fitted in somewhere. Davis
had spoken of _orejas de ellos_ with some familiarity, but certainly no
Navy ship would cooperate in the investigation of a fisherman's
superstition in which even fishermen didn't believe any longer. The
Philippine fishing fleet was modern and efficient. Fishermen used
submarine ears without superstitious fears, and if they referred to
imaginary _ellos_ it was as an American would say "knock on wood," with
no actual belief that it meant anything.
Whatever the _Esperance's_ purpose was, there was nothing mystical about
it--not if a flattop parted with rare and expensive specialized vacuum
tubes to try to help, and the police department of Manila urged Terry
tactfully--through Horta--to join the yacht, and no less than a Navy
Captain had named him as someone to be recruited.
Deirdre came abovedecks and replaced Tony at the wheel. The _Esperance_
sailed on. A last-quarter moon was now shining low on the eastern
horizon. It seemed larger and nearer to the earth than when seen from
more temperate climes. The wake of the yacht glowed in the moonlight.
The wide expanse of canvas made stark contrast between its moonlit top
and its shadow on the deck. The only illumination on the ship was the
binnacle lights and the red and green running lights. Deirdre kept the
_Esperance_ on course.
Terry went up to where she sat, beside the wheel.
"I've been making guesses," he told her. "Your father.... I believe that
his curiosity has been aroused by something, and he's resolved to track
it down. I strongly suspect that at some time or another he's gotten
bored with making money and decided to have some fun."
Deirdre nodded.
"Very good! Almost completely true. But what he's interested in is a
good deal more important than fun."
Terry nodded in his turn.
"I suspected that too. And it's rather likely that you've got a
volunteer crew instead of a professional one because these young men
consider it a fascinating adventure into the absurd, and because they'll
keep their mouths shut if something turns out to be classified
information."
"My father's doing this strictly on his own!" said Deirdre quickly.
"There's nothing official about it. There isn't any classified
information about it. This is a private affair from the beginning!"
"But in the end it may turn out to be something else," said Terry.
"Y-yes. We don't know, though. It's impossible to know!
It's--ridiculous!"
"And my explanation for your being so mysterious with me is that you and
your father insist that I find out everything for myself because I'd
think it foolish if you told me."
Deirdre did not answer for a moment. There was a movement behind Terry,
and Davis came on deck.
"That was good music!" he said pleasedly. "You missed some very
interesting sounds, Deirdre! You too, Holt."
"He's decided," said Deirdre, "that we're a little bit ashamed of our
enterprise and won't tell him about it for fear he'll simply laugh at
us."