The Probing: Leviathan, The Mind Pirates, Hybrids, The Village Read online

  Brenda stood. “We’ve got to get down there!”

  Tank pulled the earring away from his head, blinked to get his own senses back, and said, “Andi’s grandpa! He’s got a jet or a chopper—probably has a boat, too!”

  Brenda grabbed her cell phone.

  “So you’ve found your friends, whoever they be?”

  Andi was startled to hear the captain’s voice behind her, but not alarmed. By now it was clear the captain knew it all: the inquiry from another system, the access code, her responding, and of course her fitting me with a Reader scarf to send a signal to whoever it was. “I think it’s them.”

  The captain stepped up and looked over her shoulder. “Look at the tag on the inquiry. You’ve been queried by someone in Florida.” He laughed. “And I can name that party in one guess: Zedekiah Snow! Your friends are in good hands. Come to think of it, so are you! Be assured, lass, they know where you are. Here.” He offered her an inflatable life vest.

  The way the ship was rocking and pounding, the vest seemed to her an entirely good idea. She put it on.

  “Now I need you topside.”

  “For you, Professor” came the captain’s voice over the roar of the wind.

  The captain had returned with Andi and was offering an inflatable life vest. As he took the wheel, I slipped on the vest and clipped it tight.

  “Ah!” he laughed, sighting the Riqueza at the far end of the channel and closing fast. “Piel’s thinking hasn’t changed. He’s at the helm of that boat with Ling at his side, no doubt, and doing what I thought! So how’s your honor, professor? How’s your truth?”

  The face I made must have been hideous. “I fail to see how that pertains to our situation.”

  The captain grinned, which I did not find amusing. “So we never talked about it, or you weren’t listening? It has all come down to the rules, and it’s time to face it: Wherever it comes from, we’ll need a little honor . . . in our situation.”

  “I would prefer a level head and better driving.”

  “Oh, would you now?”

  He reached for the engine telegraph and signaled Scalarag to ease the engines back to Dead Slow Ahead, the first sane choice he’d made thus far, in my estimation. The Predator slowed, although I noticed the Riqueza did not.

  “Well,” I started to say, still eyeing the Riqueza, “a reasonable first step—”

  Andi screamed. I turned just in time to see the captain make his way to the rail, holding her aloft as she kicked and struggled.

  What—?

  No! I ran, with no other thought than to get her out of his hands.

  Too late! I reached the railing only to see her splash into the waves. Her life vest triggered and inflated, bearing her back to the surface where she splashed helplessly, the moving ship leaving her in its wake.

  I was about to leap in after her when something bumped me. “I suppose you’ll be wanting this?” said the captain.

  He was offering me a bulky package, rather heavy. The label read Life Raft. With no hesitation I clutched the package to my chest, swung my legs over the rail, and dropped into the sea.

  I was still beneath the surface, eyes shut in a grimace and breath held, when the water triggered my life vest and the raft and they inflated, the life vest hugging me as I popped to the surface and the life raft unfolding and forming within my reach. I grabbed on and clambered in, blinking the sting of salt from my eyes as I searched the expansive waters for Andi.

  There! I could see the yellow flotation around her neck, the red of her hair. She was so distant, so minuscule, bobbing, intermittently vanishing between the swells. But she was waving. She was safe.

  The roar of the Predator, again at full throttle, was fading in the distance. I turned to see Thatch looking back and giving a farewell wave, satisfied, no doubt, that we would be all right. Then he looked ahead, closing on the Riqueza as if he fully intended to ram her.

  Which, I still marvel to report, he did. I suppose Piel, at the helm of the Riqueza, expected him to turn tail and run, or perhaps shoot it out, or surrender, being so outgunned. But Thatch would not turn away, nor would he slow down. With cunning and skill, he even anticipated every evasive maneuver the Riqueza made, staying in her path no matter what she did.

  First came the ball of fire and the flying debris—lumber, sails, canvas, and rigging exploding skyward—and then, a second or two later, the roar and shock of the explosion. I was transfixed. Stunned.

  “Hey!” Andi called. She was kicking and paddling my way.

  I assembled a plastic oar that came with the life raft and paddled toward her, all the while staring over my shoulder, trying to fathom what I’d just seen, even when nothing remained but steaming embers on the water.

  Epilogue

  With both of us paddling the life raft, Andi and I easily made the sandy beach of Bindy’s Mayday, and it was the need to de-pressurize, I imagine, to make some sense of all that had happened, that launched us back into the discussion we started on the Barbee Jay but never finished: Was there an ultimate truth and therefore a basis for right and wrong, and was the existence of God necessary for such a truth to exist? What happened aboard the Predator—everything from our being kidnapped to the horrendous destruction we barely avoided in the channel—amounted to a practical experiment. The devil was in the data, of course, and our differing interpretations. As a result, three hours passed as mere minutes, the intensity of our debate broken only by the sound of an approaching airplane.

  “Hey!” Andi cried. “It’s the Silver Lady!”

  It was the nickname given to her grandfather’s floatplane. We could see Tank, Brenda, and Daniel waving from the plane’s windows as it set down in the channel like a big aluminum goose.

  I thought it best to wrap up our discussion before we rowed out to meet it. I granted her the possibility—since it brought her comfort—that nature, physics, and morality could make sense because there was a Superior Mind behind it all; she granted me the fact that, despite the danger and with no thought of what a supposed God might require, I still jumped into the sea to save her.

  As for the captain . . . though I assumed he’d acted upon a spark of good in his own nature, Andi preferred to think our being there may have fanned that spark to life. Well . . . either way, I suppose.

  But most of all, I summarized feelings I felt no need to explain. “All things considered,” I said to my assistant, “I am boundlessly glad and relieved that you’re safe.”

  She smiled and nodded. “Same here.”

  I’ll close my recounting of the tale with a certainty and an uncertainty.

  The certainty: Zedekiah Snow was a decent fellow—at least, as one such as myself might measure such a quality as “decent”—and knew his own technology well enough to isolate memories and impressions in any brain that were not native to that brain. In Andi’s case, he quickly identified the memories and impressions of Ben Cardiff and neutralized them in a two-second treatment. Andi is well again, no longer plagued by any past tampering with her mind.

  The uncertainty: While we were lifting off from the channel, we flew over the blackened debris where the two ships had collided and saw on the nearest shore a familiar little craft: the Predator’s wooden boat that first carried Andi and I to the ship. It couldn’t have gotten there unless someone had rowed it. Had the captain granted Scalarag a dismissal to safety as he had granted us? To add to that, the ships were quite a distance away, too far to tell if Captain Horatio Thatch was still on board when they exploded.

  At any rate, to our knowledge, neither man has ever been found . . . and perhaps that was the whole intention.

  A strange thing, honor. I’m sure more discussions will follow.

  Fair winds.

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  CHAPTER

  1

  I stood at the bottom of the Tampa airport’s escalator and searched for Tank with an odd mingling of excitement and dread. Excitement, because I hadn’t seen him, Brenda, or Daniel in several weeks, not since we parted after our adventure in the Caribbean. Dread, because each time I met Tank after a separation, his face lit up like Times Square on New Year’s and I didn’t know what to do about that. I loved him like a brother, but clearly, he felt something more for me . . . feelings I didn’t think I could ever reciprocate.

  I blew out a breath and studied the passengers on the escalator. Most wore the look of people who’d spent too much time in a cramped space, but a few faces were smiling, probably because they were meeting the pretty young women who held welcome signs for the various cruise lines. Tampa was a major port, and who wouldn’t look forward to a few days at sea? As long as we didn’t encounter pirates, even I might be tempted to board a sailboat again.

  “Andi!”

  I smiled up at Tank, who seemed to span the entire width of the escalator as he waved. I pointed to the baggage carousel for his airline, then walked toward it. Tank was loud, enthusiastic, and eager—not exactly the sort of person I wanted to meet in front of all those people coming down the escalator.

  I had no sooner arrived at the baggage area than I felt my feet leave the ground. Tank had come up from behind and wrapped me in a bear hug, and his overly rambunctious greeting lifted me at least two feet off the floor. “Andi, it’s so good to see you,” he said. “I didn’t think we’d ever land.”

  “I’m glad you did. Now, will you please put me down?”

  He lowered me gently, then stepped to my side, arms extended as if he planned to hug me again. I lifted my hand and patted his chest in an effort to hold him off. “Brenda and Daniel came in yesterday and spent today at Disney World. They’ll probably be back around dinner time.”

  “Sure was nice of your grandparents to let us use their house again.” Tank picked up the gym bag he’d dropped behind me. “After our last visit, I wasn’t sure they’d want to have us again.”

  I smiled, not needing to be reminded of the last time we’d gathered at the beach house. In the space of a few days, we encountered dead fish and birds, alien creatures, and a green slime that ended up nearly killing me. I hoped this little vaycay would bring nothing but the rest and relaxation I’d promised the others.

  “How’s the professor?” Tank asked.

  I glanced up to see if he was asking out of concern or mere politeness, but honest curiosity shone from Tank’s eyes. I had to admit—whatever else he was, Tank was a genuinely good guy. He cared about people, even the professor, who seemed to try everyone else’s patience.

  “He’s good,” I said, tempering my voice. “Working hard on a presentation he’s supposed to deliver tomorrow at the University of Tampa.”

  Tank frowned. “What’s wrong? Something’s bothering you, I can tell.”

  I hesitated. I hadn’t mentioned my concerns to Brenda because I didn’t want to ruin her plans for Disney and because I was hoping my worries were only the result of a hyperactive imagination. But I couldn’t get anything by Tank. . . .

  “I’m a little worried about the professor, to tell you the truth. His paper is supposed to be on dimensionality and quantum mechanics, with an emphasis on multiple universes. He finished his first draft weeks ago, but he keeps muttering and tinkering with it.” I shrugged. “I don’t know. He just seems . . . unsatisfied, and that’s not like him.”

  “Ain’t he a perfectionist?”

  “He is . . . but this dissatisfaction seems different. I can’t quite put my finger on why, but something’s going on in his head, something he’s not sharing with me. And that’s not like him, either.”

  Tank’s brow furrowed for a moment, then he grinned. “Don’t worry. When the team is together, we always seem to figure things out.” He draped his arm casually over my shoulder, then nodded to the bulky mountain coming down the conveyor belt. “That’s my bag.”

  “Good grief.” I gawked at the long case. “What is that, a trombone case?”

  “Metal detector.” Tank grinned. “I’ve heard that you can find a fortune on the beach—rings, coins, all kinds of stuff. Since we’re just gonna be hangin’ out at your grandparents’ place, I thought I might pick up a new hobby.”

  I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “Whatever. Grab your new toy, and I’ll meet you on the curb.”

  Brenda’s rental car was parked in the driveway when Tank and I pulled up. Daniel bounded out of the house as I got out of the car. “Space Mountain!” he said, his eyes as wide as saucers. “And more pirates!”

  Brenda grinned as she stepped onto the front porch. “I see you had no trouble finding Cowboy.”

  “Hard to miss him,” I quipped, then I bent to Daniel’s eye level. “I didn’t expect to see you so soon. I thought you’d stay at the Magic Kingdom all day.”

  Brenda gave Tank a firm slug to the upper arm, then threw me a look. “Can you say overstimulation? I figured we should leave before Daniel short-circuited. If the weather looks good and I can stretch my budget, maybe we’ll go back another day this week. But we had a great time.”

  I glanced toward the front door. “Is the professor . . . ?”

  “Locked in his room.” Brenda lifted a brow. “I don’t know what he’s doin’ in there, but I can hear him muttering behind the door. Kinda creepy, if you want to know the truth. I know he tends to be antisocial, but today he’s taking grumpy to a whole new level.”

  I sighed. “Let’s all give him some space. I think he’s worried about his presentation tomorrow. When it’s over, he’ll relax. Maybe.”

  I didn’t tell her about my frustrations—about how he’d taken to locking himself in his office and hadn’t let me read his latest paper. I didn’t want to invade his privacy and confess that I’d pressed my ear to his office door and heard him sobbing. Cursing, too, at times, and at least twice I’d heard the sound of heavy objects being thrown across the room.

  I thought the professor and I were close, but apparently we weren’t close enough to share whatever secrets he’d been hiding. But how was I supposed to do my job if he closed himself off from me?

  I opened the trunk and looked around to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything, as Tank had grabbed his bag and his metal detector and headed into the house. I turned to follow, but couldn’t help noticing a pair of children on the sidewalk across the street. They appeared to be about nine or ten, and they were standing motionless, neither of them speaking. They were staring at me.

  Something about them sent a chill up the ladder of my spine. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen kids of that age who weren’t fidgeting, running, or talking a mile a minute. We saw a lot of children on this street, most of them tourists whose families had come to enjoy Florida’s sandy beaches. But I’d never seen any kids like these.

  I stepped forward to study them more closely. Something else about them seemed odd—their clothes. Most kids in the area wore tee shirts, baggy shorts, and flip-flops or sneakers. These children were wearing long dark pants, oversized long-sleeved shirts, and dark shoes. Like children from some reclusive sect that didn’t believe in showing too much skin. . . .

  I lifted my chin, forced a smile, and wiggled my fingers at them, then turned and walked toward the front door. But before going inside, I threw a glance over my shoulder. The children had gone. Moved on, I supposed, to explore some other neighborhood.

  And with their disappearance, I felt an overwhelming wave of relief.

  CHAPTER

  2

  The kid from Perfect Pasta had just delivered orders of spaghetti, lasagna, and pepperoni pizza when I spotted my grandparents’ neighbor, Mrs. Diaz, waddling toward our front door.

  “Tank!” I called, struggling to handle the bag of food and a large pizza box while Abby, my chocolate Lab, danced at my feet. “Will you take these while
I pay for this stuff?”

  Tank came to my aid in a flash, and after paying the delivery guy, I walked to the edge of the porch to greet Mrs. Diaz.

  “Andi, so good to see you.” She smiled, then handed me a small package. “This was delivered to our house by mistake. I think it’s your grandfather’s medicine.”

  I checked the label—sure enough, the mail carrier had left it in the wrong box. “Very nice of you to bring it over, Mrs. Diaz. Especially—” I grinned—“in your condition.”

  “What are neighbors for?” She smiled, then rubbed her very pregnant belly. “The walking does me good. I’m trying to convince this baby to make an early appearance.”

  “When are you due?”

  “Two more weeks.” She gave me a rueful smile. “But he’s strong and healthy, so he can come any time. Fine with me.”

  “I hope he comes soon, then. And I’ll bet your husband is thrilled.”

  “He’s always wanted a boy. Machismo, you know.” She rolled her eyes, then turned toward her house. “Tell your grandparents I said hello.”

  “They’re in New York for the week, but I’ll tell them,” I called. “And I hope that baby comes soon.”

  I went back inside the house, dropped Sabba’s package onto the foyer table, then joined the others in the dining room. Tank, Brenda, Daniel, and even the professor had already gathered around the table. Brenda had taken charge, which was fine with me, and was passing out silverware, paper plates, and napkins. Daniel had sunk into the chair at the head of the table, leaving the professor to take the empty chair at the other end.

  I smothered a smile. He might be nervous about his speech, but the professor was not so preoccupied that he’d let a ten-year-old challenge his right to sit at the head of the table.

  “Sorry,” I told them, dropping into an empty chair. “Let’s eat.”

  “Just a minute.” Tank bowed his head as he always did. “Lord, thanks for this food, and keep us safe during this time together. Amen.”