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The Wailing Octopus: A Rick Brant Science-Adventure Story

Goodwin Harold Leland
The Wailing Octopus: A Rick Brant Science-Adventure Story

Well, it was too late now. He jerked on the rope for Zircon to stop, then took his belt slate and wrote, "Cam on whn lite is. Wll use nw & thn." He held it in the beam of infrared light for Zircon to read. The scientist scribbled "OK" under the message, then gave him a gentle push as a signal to go ahead.

Rick held his wrist in the beam and read ninety-two feet on his depth gauge. He calculated quickly. They would have enough air for about twenty-five minutes at this depth.

He held the camera switch long enough to see that there was only smooth bottom ahead, then released it. Almost total blackness flooded in. For all practical purposes it was completely dark, no glimmer of light to mark their way.

For an instant Rick felt panic, but reason reasserted itself. It was instinctive to feel fear under such circumstances, he thought. Not only was he out of his own medium, air, but in a high-pressure realm inhabited by potentially dangerous creatures. He grinned inwardly at the thought. The most dangerous creatures in this vicinity were human.

A twinkle of light stopped him, but Zircon continued on and the connecting line tightened. Rick identified the twinkle as phosphorescence from some marine creature on the reef. There were many such in the ocean. He flashed the infrared light, saw that they were still heading properly, and cut it off again.

The rope at his belt tugged four times for danger! He stopped instantly, letting go of the camera with one hand while he reached for his belt knife. Then he saw what Zircon had seen, a glow in the water ahead and above them. Rick estimated quickly the distance they had traveled. There was no doubt of it. The frogmen were at the octopus cave!

He followed Zircon's lead, cutting the light off and on as necessary, as the big scientist moved ahead. The glow grew in intensity, but they were still too far away to see its exact position, or whether there were men around it.

Rick's heart beat faster, and his breathing speeded up appreciably. In spite of Zircon's plan to claim they were only checking on the frogmen's interest in the wreck, Rick knew that being discovered would mean serious trouble. He recalled Steve's warning that they were up against a ruthless enemy.

The question was, how close could they get without being seen? He could take pictures at ten feet, but at any greater distance the camera would be useless.

Zircon moved ahead, going slowly now. Rick followed, not bothering with the dark-light unit because the glow in the water was enough for a beacon. Then the glow faded for a moment as a figure crossed in front of it. Still Zircon moved ahead until Rick could see two additional, smaller glows that he identified as the belt lights the frogmen had been wearing.

Zircon continued on, still hugging the bottom, and Rick divined his intention. The big scientist was going to take them directly under the frogmen! It was logical, since the frogmen would not expect danger below.

Rick followed, staying just behind Zircon's flippers, feeling the wash of water from his wake. The light was nearly overhead now, and Rick saw dark figures moving. It was unreal, like a Hollywood motion picture, except that the tense music of a movie production was replaced only by the soft sighing of their regulators.

And with the thought, Rick almost lost his mouthpiece. Their bubbles! Their bubbles would rise right past the frogmen, a dead giveaway! It might already be too late, because Zircon was almost directly under the cave!

CHAPTER XII
Clouds Over Clipper Cay

Rick jerked frantically on the tie rope, four times for danger, then he turned and swam rapidly back the way they had come. At first he felt resistance on the line, then Zircon hurried to catch up. Not until they were barely within seeing distance of the light did Rick stop, then he took his belt slate, started the camera for light, and wrote "Bubbles go by thm if we undr. They see."

Zircon held a hand to his head in a sign of chagrin that he had forgotten, then he wrote, "Hw we gt clos?"

Rick pondered the problem. The bubbles had alarmed him in another way, too. It was possible that the man on the boat could see four sets of bubbles rising where only two were supposed to be. Yet, he couldn't escape the feeling that it was important to get a look at what the frogmen were doing. There was no way out of it. He just had to take a chance.

He wrote, "I mak pass hldng brth so no bbls, tak pix. U sty out of rnge & cvr me wth gn."

Rick had just one hope of getting away with it. He had to assume that the frogmen would be busy with whatever they were doing in the cave. If so, their backs would be to the open sea. At least the chance was worth taking.

Zircon wrote, "OK bt be crfl."

Rick didn't need the warning. Together, they swam back until they were close to the glow of the lights. He hoped that the darkness and breaking surf above were concealing their bubbles. Finally Zircon halted. Rick unsnapped the line that held him to the scientist, squeezed Zircon's shoulder, and swam away from the reef toward the open water. He kept his head turned so he could keep the light in his field of vision.

When he was out far enough he swam upward until he was on a level with the light, and directly out to sea from it. He inhaled, filling his lungs, then with camera outthrust, he drove directly toward the light. It wasn't hard to hold his breath – not with his heart acting as a stopper in his throat.

The light grew clearer. He started the camera and kept moving with powerful strokes. Then he held his legs still and let inertia carry him in a silent glide. He had to get close – close!

The light grew in intensity, and details grew clearer. He saw the frogmen, and their backs were to him! Between them, he caught a glimpse of something brassy and round, and he saw the octopus, clinging to the reef to one side of the cave.

He held the camera button as long as he dared. Then when it seemed that he would glide right into the frogmen, he twisted sideways and bent backward like a circus acrobat, flippers moving in powerful thrusts. It was an excellent underwater imitation of a wingover, the plane maneuver that reversed direction by diving and turning. He planed downward until he touched bottom, then thrust himself with frantic kicks away from the vicinity of the cave.

His lungs were about to burst, he felt, when finally he drew a deep breath. The gurgling sigh of his bubbles was sheer relief. He kept moving until he bumped headlong into Hobart Zircon. The scientist reached out and snapped his rope onto Rick's belt, then tugged twice.

Zircon led the way along the reef bottom until they reached the spot where, they estimated, Tony and Scotty would be waiting. As they started for the surface, Rick switched on the camera and looked at his watch.

They had been under only ten minutes! And he had been waiting for the warning constriction of air running out!

Zircon broke water and instantly submerged again. He led the way a few feet under the surface to where he had seen Tony and Scotty, then led Rick to the top once more.

Tony and Scotty saw them emerge and without a word turned and started back toward the cottage, pushing their floats. Instead of bothering with the snorkel, Rick kept the aqualung mouthpiece in place and swam a few feet under the surface, guiding himself by the wake of the others. He was tired – and relieved.

The group crossed over the reef and swam to the beach in front of the cottage. There they gathered at the water's edge and stripped off their gear. For long moments no one spoke, then Zircon asked, "See anything, Rick?"

"A little. Enough to get an answer, I think. We haven't discovered a new breed of octopus, because they were installing something in the cave. Something that makes a noise."

"Do you know that, or do you infer it?" Tony asked.

"I didn't hear the noise, if that's what you mean. But what else could it be?"

"Too bad," Scotty said. "Now we won't have a new species named after us. Come on, give us the word. How was it?"

Rick said, with complete truth, "I was scared to death."

"And so was I," Zircon admitted. "At first the sensation of complete blackness caused an emotional reaction. Then I began to see that we had done a rather foolish thing. And I almost got us into trouble by forgetting that we send up a constant stream of bubbles." He told them of his plan to get under the cave, and of Rick's warning.

"We thought of your bubbles," Scotty told them. "I talked it over with Tony, and came within an ace of diving after you, although I doubt that I could have reached bottom and found you. But we watched, and we couldn't see any bubbles at all. It was too dark, and we were right where the water was breaking."

"My question is, did you get a picture?" Zircon wanted to know.

"I'm sure I did. The camera was going, and it probably saw much more than I did – since cameras don't get scared. But it won't do us much good right now. We can't develop the film."

The boys picked up the equipment and carried it to the Water Witch. Rick turned off the compressor. He was too tired to wait until all tanks were full. Time enough for that in the morning.

When he and Scotty returned to the cottage, Tony greeted them with cups of hot chocolate and they sat on the porch and enjoyed them.

"Let's sum up what we know," Zircon invited. "If anyone agrees that we know anything worth summing."

"I think we do," Rick said, "and I think we ought to get it to Steve Ames. We don't know what he's after, or what kind of gang he's fighting, but we know one of them is here."

"Yes, and we also know that Steve's agency is primarily concerned with protecting military secrets," Zircon added. "I agree with Rick. We must get word of these mysterious frogmen to him."

 

"We discussed that earlier," Tony recalled. "In view of our discussion, it would seem that either Rick or Scotty or both must fly to Charlotte Amalie and tell him personally."

Scotty pointed at the sky. "Have any of you looked up there?"

All of them did. The moon was just rising, and there was enough light to see heavy cirrus moving high overhead.

"There's a front of some kind moving down on us," Scotty said. "And did you notice the swells tonight? Long ones. I'm no first-class weather forecaster, but all the signs are there. We're in for a storm. The question is, how soon will it arrive?"

"He's right," Zircon agreed. "I'm glad you're observant, Scotty. Frankly, I hadn't even bothered looking at the weather. I suppose I thought it would just continue to be perfect."

Rick stared at the gathering clouds for long moments, then put into words the thing that had been bothering him.

"You know, there has been a cloud over this vacation almost from the moment we landed at Charlotte Amalie. We didn't want to get involved in anything but diving and exploring, but we got pulled by the ears into a hot case. Steve warned us off that first day. The warning didn't help, because we got dragged back into things when we went swimming, and again at the hotel."

Three faces were turned toward him, listening. He was expressing what all of them had been thinking, too.

"We thought we'd leave trouble behind when we came here," Rick continued, "but it was waiting for us. We didn't look for it, until tonight."

He drew a deep breath. "Well, from now on we have to become the hunters. Steve Ames doesn't know there's anything strange going on here. We do, and it's up to us to find out what. The goings-on in the octopus cave have something to do with the case Steve is working on – and what Steve is working on has something important to do with national security."

He smiled grimly. "I know none of you will disagree with this, because it's the only thing we can do. Professor Zircon knew it tonight when he tried to excuse our looking in on the frogmen as curiosity."

Zircon nodded silently.

"From now on," Rick concluded, "we have to operate as unofficial JANIG agents, until we can get word to Steve Ames so he and his men can take over."

CHAPTER XIII
Message in the Storm

The wind blew. It piled the surf high on the reef and blew the tops from waves between the reef and the shore. Hour by hour the wind stiffened, until the breakers on the shore were higher than those through which the Spindrifters had swum on the reef.

The first hours of the morning were spent getting ready for a blow. The Water Witch was secured by springlines, and extra fenders were put over her side. The four hauled the Sky Wagon high onto the beach by sheer muscle power, then turned the plane into the wind. Rick and Scotty salvaged the concrete-block foundation from the wreck of the cottage where they had found the planks, and used the blocks for land anchors on the plane.

The shutters were checked, and closed on the front of the cottage. The shed where the tank had broken through was repaired as well as improvised tools and materials allowed, and all loose gear was stowed inside.

The rain came. It drove with the wind into the front of the cottage in a continuous thunder. Its force carried it under the door, through cracks beside the window frames. The Spindrifters were forced to shred rags to stuff into cracks. In the kitchen the roof began to leak, and soon every available pot and pan was being used to catch drippings.

Rick worked almost in silence, not joining in the bantering of his friends. As was his way, he worried the problem of the frogmen and their mysterious behavior the way his dog, Dismal, would worry a bone.

He discarded a dozen possible reasons for their actions, including underwater communications, bombs, and an unusual way of fishing. He pondered on the relations of the Spindrift group – or lack of them – with the frogmen and re-examined their various theories.

First premise: The frogmen, specifically Steve's former shadow, hadn't recognized them or the Water Witch.

Second premise: The frogmen considered them harmless tourists, interested only in diving to the wreck, and therefore to be watched but not considered dangerous.

He rather liked that one. It would mean that the chicken had been dropped "mischievously," to use Zircon's word, to try to scare them out of the immediate vicinity. But there were other possibilities.

First premise: The frogmen knew of their connection with Steve.

Second premise: The frogmen weren't worried about people with JANIG connections.

This might be explained by superior weapons in the hands of the frogmen, coupled with the assumption that the Spindrifters had no communication with Steve. It might also be explained by knowledge of their real reason for being on Clipper Cay.

Rick didn't care much for the last two premises. The first one seemed more reasonable. After all, they were not sure that the former tail had seen the Water Witch in St. Thomas, or had known of their connection with it. On the contrary, to get to Clipper Cay so soon after the Spindrifters arrived, the frogman must have left about the same time the scientists did. There was even a possibility that he had arrived ahead of the Spindrift group and that the frogmen's boat had been out when Rick and Scotty had first spotted the diving equipment in the house. Anyway, there had been no sign of any tail but the Virgin Islander while they were around the pier and on the Water Witch. Either he or Scotty would almost certainly have spotted a second man – especially since they had seen him before.

There was a major precaution, however, to be taken: he and Scotty must not let Steve's former tail get a good look at them. They had to assume he had recognized their clumsiness for what it was – a deliberate stall.

Scotty poked him, and Rick suddenly realized that he had been leaning for quite a long while on the broom he was supposed to be using.

"Made up your mind about anything?" Scotty asked.

Rick knew his friend had been watching him. During their many adventures each had developed a rather unusual understanding of how the other's mind worked.

"Partly," Rick replied. He told Scotty his thoughts.

"You make sense," Scotty agreed, then added practically, "but I don't see what difference it makes, whether they know about our connection with Steve or not. The moment they catch us snooping they'll assume we're enemies. Until then, they'll let us alone just as they've been doing."

Zircon and Scotty joined forces to prepare lunch. The temperature had dropped sharply, and hot soup and hamburger sandwiches were welcome.

After lunch, Rick braved the storm long enough to go to the Water Witch for his camera. He returned to the cottage soaked to the skin. "We'll need diving equipment to go outside if this keeps up," he announced.

He took the camera case apart and disconnected his circuits, then he went outside again with tools in hand and got into the Sky Wagon. The plane had a heater switch that would do. He removed it, leaving the wires to dangle for the moment. If the heater was needed he could put the wires together.

That done, he sat in the plane and racked his memory for a source of sheet rubber. There was none, but he recalled a repair kit for the plastic floats in their tool supply. He found it and took it back to the house.

Using the awl blade on his scout knife, he bored a hole through the plastic back of the case and installed the switch. Then he reconnected his circuits so the new switch would turn on only the infrared light. He waterproofed the switch as best he could, making gaskets from a rubber jar ring he found in the kitchen.

He knew, however, that the switch wouldn't be waterproof under pressure. He took a sheet of plastic repair material from the float repair kit and shaped it carefully with his knife. After much trial and error he succeeded in cementing it onto the case so that it would protect the switch from the outside, but left enough slack for the switch to be operated through the flexible patch. Satisfied, he put it aside to dry.

It was nearly time for dinner when he finished. He took a hand in cooking ham and eggs with fried potatoes, while Tony prepared a salad and made coffee.

As they ate, Zircon gestured toward the front of the house. "Getting worse instead of letting up. This must be a hurricane, although I've never heard of one quite this early in the season."

"If it gets much worse we'll have to anchor the cottage," Scotty observed.

They finished just in time to tune in for the weather forecast from St. Thomas. According to the announcer, the storm was now centered off the island of St. Croix, moving in a northwesterly direction. That meant it would pass St. Thomas, and perhaps come very close to them. The announcer said, "While the storm has many of the characteristics of a hurricane, including the general form and wind velocities, we hesitate to designate it as one."

"In other words," Tony said, "it's a hurricane but we'll call it something else because it's too early in the season for hurricanes."

"Whatever it is, we'll have more of it," Zircon stated.

Rick switched to the Navy command frequency in time to intercept a conversation with a destroyer somewhere off the British Virgin Islands. The destroyer had just lost one of its boats.

At four minutes after six the air went silent, then a new voice took over the microphone. The voice said:

"A message for the ones who hunted blue sheep."

"That's us!" Rick gasped.

When Steve had dispatched Rick, Scotty, and Zircon to Tibet, it had been with the cover story that they were going to hunt the blue sheep called Bharals in the mountains of West China. Only Steve would know that. The message was from him.

Static crackled, but the message was clear:

"The one who started the hunt needs the biggest hunter. Only the biggest hunter. He should be delivered as soon as possible. Call your usual contact before arrival and say that the doctor is coming and to notify the patient."

The message was repeated, while the four strained to be certain they had heard every word. When normal traffic resumed, Rick switched the set off.

"It appears," Zircon said slowly, "that I'm wanted."

"Yep." Scotty grinned. "The demand is there, all right. But delivery is a long way off."

The storm punctuated his words.

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