A Calm Precedes a Storm
A crisis had arisen and Rick and Scotty could only stand by
helplessly. After all, what could mere males do in such a situation?
Barby decided that Rick and Scotty were to fly over to Whiteside and
get diving equipment for Jan, so she could have her own. It was easy
to agree on the type of face mask, snorkel, and fins. But everything
bogged down when it came to color.
Rick's own mask, snorkel, and fins were sea green. Scotty had a green
mask, blue snorkel, and black fins. Barby had a white mask, red
snorkel, and white fins.
"Look," Rick said impatiently. "What earthly difference does it make?
The principal thing is comfort. If the fins feel good and the mask
fits comfortably, that's it. Color? What difference does color make to
a fish?"
Barby sniffed. "I wouldn't expect you to understand."
Jan looked at him coldly and stated that she wouldn't know what
difference color made to a fish, because she was not a fish.
"You swim like one," Scotty said diplomatically, but didn't even get a
smile in return.
There was only one thing for the boys to do, and that was to make as
graceful a retreat as possible. They did so, and sat waiting under a
tree in the orchard while raging debate went on between the girls on
the porch.
Rick looked over at the laboratory building. His father and the other
scientists were hard at work on the project, he supposed. He felt
rather left out, because they were too busy to talk with him, and when
he went in to look around he could see only stacks of paper covered
with equations that he couldn't begin to understand.
"Wonder when Marks will arrive?" he asked.
Scotty shrugged. "We'll probably find out when he gets here."
Dr. Marks had agreed to join the team at Spindrift as soon as he
finished running some of the team calculations through the automatic
computer at the Bureau of Standards in Washington. Tom Dodd would
arrive with him, Steve had reported. Meanwhile, protection for the
Spindrift team was under the direction of another of Steve's men, Joe
Blake. Joe and another agent took turns in the laboratory, sleeping
and eating there and emerging one at a time for a little exercise.
Nor were Joe and his partner the only protection. In the woods on the
mainland, just out of sight of the tidal flat, a group of four Boy
Scout leaders were encamped, working on special camping and pioneering
qualifications that would enable them to become qualified instructors
for their Scout Troops. The Whiteside newspaper had even carried a
brief story about the Scout activities. But Jerry Webster, Rick's
friend and newspaper reporter, hadn't known when he wrote the story
that the Scout leaders carried an astonishing amount of armament for
such a peaceful expedition. The JANIG agents, however, had been chosen
for the assignment because they really were Scout leaders in their
home communities. The story would stand investigation.
Barby and Jan left the porch and walked to where the boys waited.
"We've decided," Barby announced.
The boys applauded politely.
"You see," she went on, "I'm blond, and Jan is brunette."
Rick squinted up at the girls. "By golly," he exclaimed, "that's
right!" He put a hand on his heart. "One with hair filled with
captured sunlight, the other with hair like the raven's wing, filled
with the gleams of moonlight."
Barby threatened him with her foot. "Be serious!"
Rick composed his face in stern lines. "I am."
"Well," Barby continued, "we decided that Jan should wear a white suit
and white equipment. It will make her dark hair and her tan look very
dramatic. But of course I can't wear white if she does."
This was beyond Rick. Why they couldn't wear the same color was
outside of his comprehension. "Of course not," he murmured politely.
"So I'm going with you. We both have to have new bathing suits, a
white one for Jan and a dark-blue one for me. And I'm going to give
Jan my mask and fins, because they're white. So I'll have to get blue
equipment for me. And my snorkel is red, and that just won't do,
because..."
Scotty held up his hand. "Say no more. I will swap snorkels with you,
because mine is blue."
"I knew you would when you understood," Barby said smugly.
"I don't understand, but I'll trade. Come on. Let's go to Whiteside."
Jan remained behind, because Steve had not given permission for the
Morrisons to leave the island, and Rick refused to take the
responsibility in spite of Barby's pleading. The best he could do was
to promise to call Steve about it and perhaps get permission for
future trips.
The Sky Wagon landed at Whiteside pier, and the trio went to the
nearby garage where the Brants' car was kept. Hartson Brant had
decided it was more convenient to have a car available for use at all
times than to depend on taxis, or on friends.
The local sporting goods store had a good stock of equipment and Barby
was able to purchase what she wanted without difficulty. But when it
came to the bathing suits, she debated over the large selection for an
hour before choosing two that were identical except for color. Rick
and Scotty waited impatiently, now and then prodding Barby to hurry
up. She refused to be hurried.
Back at Spindrift, Jan met them with a greeting. "That certainly
didn't take long! Barby, how on earth could you pick these out so
quickly?"
The boys looked at each other. Their opinion was that Barby had taken
just one hour longer than necessary. Here, obviously, was that
mysterious thing, the feminine mind at work. Rick examined the problem
from the scientific viewpoint and got nowhere. The ways of girls
defied analysis.
Both boys had to admit, however, that the results of Barby's shopping
had been worth the delay. Their own rather shabby swim trunks, torn
and stained from contact with undersea rocks and coral, suddenly
seemed sloppy. But when Barby examined the aqualung tanks
distastefully and demanded that Rick paint them to match the new
suits, both boys put their feet down emphatically.
"The tanks are that color because they've been treated to withstand
rust and corrosion," Rick stated. "If we paint 'em, the paint will
only get knocked off and they'll look terrible. I won't do it."
The girls exchanged a glance that seemed to say, "Boys! They have
such stubborn, silly ideas!"
Jan had already gone through the exercise of clearing the aqualung
hoses of water, clearing her mask while using the lung underwater, and
using the reserve lever on the tank, and Rick had instructed her in
the theory of diving.
Now it was time to put what she had learned to the ultimate test.
The boys hauled the equipment down to the beach in Rick's old coaster
wagon, modified for carrying equipment, then directed the girls to
check the regulators, check the tanks, and connect regulators to tanks
preparatory to diving.
They lolled on the beach and watched. Scotty grinned. "This is the
life. Tony Briotti tells me it's always this way in primitive
societies. The men loaf while the women work. I'm in favor of it."
"I'm sure you are," Barby said acidly.
Jan said nothing, but continued to work with meticulous care. Rick
watched closely, and was satisfied. There was ample equipment for all.
Scotty helped Barby into her gear while Rick instructed Jan.
"This is the tough part. If you make it, that's the end. From then on
all you'll need is practice. We'll all swim down to the fifty-foot
depth. Watch your ears and don't try to continue down if you feel any
pain. Go back up a few feet and try to clear your ears. When we get to
the bottom, I want you to take off all your equipment, swim away from
it, then swim back and put it on. Okay?"
Jan gave him a tremulous smile. "I think so."
"Good. Plan how you'll do it. Remember, air is the last thing you'll
need, and the first."
"I'll remember."
It was easy enough for a diver with plenty of experience, and the
confidence that experience brings, but Rick remembered from his own
training that it was plenty rough the first time.
He held the tank while Jan got into harness and said reassuringly,
"You'll make it. You're a natural for diving because you don't lose
your head. That's just about the only really dangerous thing a diver
can do." He got into his harness, then picked up his movie camera in
its underwater case.
At his signal, the four waded out into the cold water, splashed around
a little to get accustomed to it, then put mouthpieces in place and
prepared to don masks. Rick waited until last, and called, "Everybody
getting air?" When they nodded, he put his own mouthpiece in place,
checked to make sure the demand valve was working, then slipped the
mask down from his forehead and went underwater.
There was a convenient sandy space among the rocks at the fifty-foot
level. He reached it and turned to count noses. All were present.
Visibility was good enough. He set his camera and took a position
cross-legged on the sand. Barby and Scotty took similar positions and
waited.
At Rick's signal, Jan slipped off her fins, which she placed carefully
on the sand. Her weight belt followed, then her mask. Rick kept the
camera going as she jerked the quick release buckle on her harness,
then pulled the tank over her head, keeping the mouthpiece in place.
At the last moment, she filled her lungs with air, let the mouthpiece
drop to the sand, and swam away. Rick followed as she went about
twenty feet into the rocks, and returned.
Jan had planned well. She picked up the mouthpiece and held it high so
the air rushed out, then she popped it into her mouth and began
breathing. She didn't bother with the tank harness yet. Instead, she
picked up her mask, adjusted it, and blew it clear. Only then, when
she could see and breathe, did she leisurely put the harness straps in
position and swing the tank over her head and into place on her back.
She buckled it on, and added her weight belt. The fins were last.
A flume of air from her exhaust, a sign of exhaustion, told Rick that
Jan was tired. Probably the mental strain more than the exercise had
left her too weak for further swimming. He slung the camera from a
belt hook, took her hand and shook it solemnly, then led the way back
to the beach.
After a short rest the others were anxious to go back in again, but
Rick vetoed the idea. "We could," he admitted, "and probably no harm
would come of it. But skin diving is the easiest thing in the world
to overdo. Jan is tired. And she's excited, even if she doesn't look
it. This afternoon, after we've had a little rest, we can come back
again and just have fun. There won't be any strain on Jan then,
because she passed the last test with flying colors. So she can swim
without worrying whether she's meeting our standards, or doing it the
way we think it ought to be done."
He grinned at the girl. "I know it was a strain. Remember, we've all
been through it, too."
Jan had a nice smile. "You're right," she admitted. "I was so scared I
wouldn't do it correctly! Then, when I knew that it was all right, I
sort of fell apart."
Barby arose. "Come on, Jan. Let's go shower and change." She smiled
with false sweetness at the boys. "Now that you're through testing
Jan, I'm sure you won't mind doing your own work. 'Bye, now." And she
left them to pick up the gear and truck it back to the laboratory
building where it was kept.
Rick got to the shower first, then stretched out on his bed to wait
for Scotty. It's a fine day, he told himself. All is well. JANIG has
the island covered like a blanket. The project team is going full
speed ahead. We're having fun. Jan is just the companion Barby needs.
All's right with the world.
He turned over on his stomach and bunched his pillow up more
comfortably. Then why, he asked himself, did he still feel funny?
Scotty came in from the shower, toweling vigorously. "What's eating
you?" he demanded.
Rick turned over and stared at his pal. "Is it that obvious?"
"It is to me. What's up?"
"I don't know," Rick admitted. "Wish I did. Have you noticed how quiet
everything is? It's like the day before a hurricane moves in. The
ocean gets glassy, and there isn't any wind, and you're almost afraid
to breathe because the air is so charged a breath might start the
lightning."
"'The calm before the storm,'" Scotty quoted. "Maybe it is. I feel it
a little, too. But what can we do?"
Rick shrugged as expressively as one flat on his back could manage.
"Nothing. We can swim with the girls, and we can keep working on the
radio units. But there isn't a single thing to do so far as the
project goes. I wish there were. I feel left out."
Scotty grinned. "You're never really happy unless we're up to our hips
in trouble or a mystery. I know what's really bothering you. A fine,
fat mystery is afoot and you haven't a shred of it you can call your
own."
Rick had to grin back. There was much in what Scotty said. As long as
the mystery of the two scientists remained unsolved, he wouldn't be
really happy.