“We’ll have to moor her in Russell.
And, Avery says, thanks for ferrying her around Africa for him.” Morrell was practicing his tele-talk, to ensure he and his partner would be in synch, get used to each other’s cyber accents, so to speak. Maquique and Dylan – both tuning in to Marshall’s unfamiliar inner frequency – made a small wince.
They recalled that rather unpleasant part of the trip in the Makara just days ago – just fighting the current to get to the Cape of Good Hope was a struggle. Yeah, we did him a favor … so now he wants us to park in the Bay of Islands? Why can’t we … go into Wellington … or Wanganui? That’d be another day. Wants Makara up at his island.
He has transportation for us to get to Denhy. OK.
Better be good, thought Maquique – tired of roughing it, enough of that for one incarnation.
And I could use a shower. True. Permission granted to re-insulate, Morrell. Thank you Sir.
Out. Major Paxton was finishing explaining what he knew of the situation at Denhy Manor.
The Navy Lieutenants [ensigns?] – absorbed each piece of information and asked for relevant details … they wanted to be able to hit the ground running when they arrived. “Hey this will be cool! – real round-up, rodeo, bucking broncos – YeeYaw!” Guffawed Maquique – thinking the crew needed a lighter approach to this … “Shut up, McCoy!” Yogi was bearish this morning, his voice growled deeper as each hour darkened his lengthening beard. He reconsidered, perhaps some other kind of breakfast entertainment would be in order. “How about a swim?” And with three irregular steps, Maquique was over the railing and arching into a swan dive, slicing into the ocean, deeply racing below. Jade let out a little “Oh!” and jumped to look overboard.
Paxton, thankful for the silence, replied, “Let him go … if he doesn’t grab a trail line, he can just bob along and the HHS will get them on their way back up from Kerguelen Islands.
They won’t be far behind us.” Dylan asked, “Yogi, What is that ship? I couldn’t get a good read on it’s size … oblate though, yes?” “It’s a Hyperdrive; HydroHover class, submersible.
Kirsten’s the expert here, she can tell you about it – I’m waiting on a weather report.” And Major Paxton wratcheted his self upright, sore from sleeping on a wood floor; Marines didn’t believe in using MilSpec Beds. He moved aft, talking into his wristband.
Looking back at the wide wake of the Makara. “Due east … right at us.
Well, can we outrun it.” “Yeah … I think that speed is no problem for this … “Leviathan.” Paxton yelled a bit, “Maquique get off this frequency – where the hell are you?” Telepaths! “I’m right here Major.” Paxton cursed to himself – then to his wrist, “No, not you, hold on.” In the water or out, these psy ops types caused more trouble than they’re worth – and this swimming stunt was not, at least now, timely, at a minimum.
Yogi continued towards the tail end of the ship, looking out to sea – and no Maquique in sight! Back into the speaker at his wrist, “We have a … little problem, just a delay … but … we’ll get on our way as soon as … ” “Heyya Capt’n!…” Maquique’s head popped over the aft railing, spooking Paxton, both at eye level. “Request to come aboard!” The Marine Major nearly shoved him back down to the deep.
But Maquique avoided this with a grin and a spry leap over the rail.
With a small flourish he dropped the trail line, and made a fast wet walk forward, most refreshened from his morning’s splash.
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