The Deep Range - Arthur C. Clarke [66]
Usually the pictures were blank, for he had set the discriminator to reject all echoes from objects less than seventy feet in length. That, he calculated, should eliminate all but the very largest whales—and the quarry he was seeking. When the herds were on the move, however, the film would be dotted with echoes which would jump across the screen at fantastically exaggerated speeds as he projected the images. He was watching the life of the sea accelerated almost ten thousand times.
After two months of fruitless watching, he began to wonder if he had chosen the wrong places for all three recorders, and was making plans to move them. When the next rolls of film came back, he told himself, he would do just that, and he had already decided on the new locations.
But this time he found what he had been looking for. It was on the edge of the screen, and had been caught by only four sweeps of the scanner. Two days ago that unforgotten, curiously linear echo had appeared on the recorder; now he had evidence, but he still lacked proof.
He moved the other two recorders into the area, arranging the three instruments in a great triangle fifteen miles on a side, so that their fields overlapped. Then it was a question of waiting with what patience he could until another week had passed.
The wait was worth it; at the end of that time he had all the ammunition he needed for his campaign. The proof was there, clear and undeniable.
A very large animal, too long and thin to be any of the known creatures of the sea, lived at the astonishing depth of twenty thousand feet and came halfway to the surface twice a day, presumably to feed. From its intermittent appearance on the screens of the recorders, Franklin was able to get a fairly good idea of its habits and movements. Unless it suddenly left the area and he lost track of it, there should be no great difficulty in repeating the success of Operation Percy.
He should have remembered that in the sea nothing is ever twice the same.
CHAPTER XVII
“YOU KNOW, DEAR,” said Indra, “I’m rather glad this is going to be one of your last missions.”
“If you think I’m getting too old—”
“Oh, it’s not only that. When you’re on headquarters duty we’ll be able to start leading a normal social life. I’ll be able to invite people to dinner without having to apologize because you’ve suddenly been called out to round up a sick whale. And it will be better for the children; I won’t have to keep explaining to them who the strange man is they sometimes meet around the house.”
“Well, it’s not that bad, is it, Pete?” laughed Franklin, tousling his son’s dark, unruly hair.
“When are you going to take me down in a sub, Daddy?” asked Peter, for approximately the hundredth time.
“One of these days, when you’re big enough not to get in the way.”
“But if you wait until I am big, I will get in the way.”
“There’s logic for you!” said Indra. “I told you my child was a genius.”
“He may have got his hair from you,” said Franklin, “but it doesn’t follow that you’re responsible for what lies beneath it.” He turned to Don, who was making ridiculous noises for Anne’s benefit. She seemed unable to decide whether to laugh or to burst into tears, but was obviously giving the problem her urgent attention. “When are you going to settle down to the joys of domesticity? You can’t be an honorary uncle all your life.”
For once, Don looked a little embarrassed.
“As a matter of fact,” he said slowly, “I’m thinking about it. I’ve met someone at last who looks as if she might be willing.”
“Congratulations! I thought you and Marie were seeing a lot of each other.”
Don looked still more embarrassed.
“Well—ah—it isn’t Marie. I was just trying to say good-by to her.”
“Oh,” said Franklin, considerably deflated. “Who is it?”
“I don’t think you know her. She’s named June—June Curtis. She isn’t in the bureau at all, which is an advantage