My Journal

By Harriman Nelson

12

It wasn’t too much later when Lee came down the spiral stairs and sat down next to me. He said nothing for awhile.

“Well?” I asked.

“Ronald Hawthorne’s told everyone who will listen to petition the Navy not to replace the prosthesis. A lot of people, even though they’re sympathetic about my loss, agree with him. In fact, the Navy’s ordered a hold on any replacement pending a congressional subcommittee meeting. According to the Sec Nav, it must have been my own fault that it was snatched by the cat. No malfunction, collision, explosion, or any such thing in the line of duty damaged it. Just a playful kitty that somehow found it when I wasn’t wearing it.”

“But the Sec Nav knows you need the prosthesis for the mission! How can he side with Ronald and his friends?”

“Because he can’t reveal it contained a top secret gadget designed especially for covert operations with ONI, that’s why.”

“The files you requested, skipper,” Chip interrupted, approaching from the Control Room, plopping the folders onto the table.

“What are these, Lee?” I asked.

“I wanted to see if there was something we might be able to use for our investigation of the sea lab and area. Especially now that we’ll have to do it the hard way.”

“Are you sure about going ahead, Lee?” Chip asked, “without the x-ray vision?”

“It won’t be easy, but I still I want to see if there’s anything about the Hewlett’s I might be able to use in order to complete the mission anyway.”

“Not too much we don’t know already,” Chip said, opening the topmost folder as he sat down. “Dr. Irving Hewlett, PHD in Marine Biology. Widower. Blames the Navy for the death of his son. But NCIS confirmed it was pilot error. Crashed into the carrier. Several casualties. The black box was destroyed with most of the plane in the explosion. But flight control did record the men complaining about the AC not working, so….”

“So something was electrically or mechanically wrong but the Navy couldn’t verify it.”

“A man who blames the Navy,” I said, “for his son’s death won’t be too anxious to let you visit him in the sea lab.

“Ah, but he’s not going to be home when I check it out. Go on, Chip.”

As anxious as I was to know why, I remained silent.

“Widowed daughter-in-law, Nancy Hewlett,” Chip continued, opening up her folder. “She probably won’t stay a widow for long, looking like that. Anyway, she visits the Dr. at the sea lab occasionally. When she can get a cat sitter that is. Works on the Australian mainland as a cat whisperer.”

“A what?” I asked.

“Kind of a feline behaviorist,” Chip said. “Most of her work is modifying the owner’s behavior in order to modify the cats’. Then the cat’s happy and doesn’t continue to do things like hissing, clawing, or trying to disembowel its owner, etc.”

“You know, Chip,” Lee said, with a smirk. “Mallie’s been…’acting weird’ lately, wouldn’t you say?”

“There’s nothing wrong with Mallie! Oh, yeah. But these people are booked for weeks in advance…and how are you going to talk her into boarding Seaview?”

“In a minute,” he said and reached over to the intercom, “Sparks? I need a report on Dr. Hewlett’s  doctoral thesis, and any books he’s written.”

“What are you up to, Lee?” I asked.

“You’re going to praise the man, one scientist to another, invite him over to view your specimens and stay for supper. Mrs. Hewlett will join us too.”

“What specimens?” I asked. “There aren’t any in my lab right now!”

“There will be.”

“No!” Chip said. “You’re not going out again! You don’t have your high beam any more.”

“I managed dives just fine without it before.”

“You might as well drag a net behind Seaview, like CNN recommended,” I said.

“Maybe we can  have a seafood supper if anything’s left after the admiral picks out his specimens,” Chip said.

“We can’t count on the net to pull in anything edible,” Lee said, “but…it’s possible.”

“Even if we can obtain something for the lab, there’s no guarantee Hewlett will even consider coming aboard. Some scientists are reclusive. Secretive until their experiments are concluded.”

“All right. But I bet he’d be interested to collaborate on that book you’re thinking about writing.”

“My what? Lee….”

“Chip, arrange for the net and get me a couple of divers.”

I wasn’t expecting the dive team or the net to be very successful regarding interesting enough specimens but I was pleasantly surprised they found a few Sea Turtles. An endangered species I’m sure Dr. Hewett will be interested in helping me evaluate for any pollution poisoning.

The team also discovered some rather big clams on one of the  sea mounts. Huge clams, actually. Yellowish pink. No matter what the species,(I sure as hell don’t know) no  clam I know of should even be at this depth or so far from any shore.  Yes, Hewlett will be interested in these as well.  If I can keep Chip from pilfering a few for the galley.

There was nothing too exciting (or really edible) in the net. Some very small fish and a few shrimp that wouldn’t even rate as krill for a hungry whale. But they will help augment the specimen tanks.

We’ll just have to put up with whatever Cookie can create from available stores. It’s possible that after our mission Lee will allow a clam bake, but I hesitate to allow it, at least until after I’ve examined them. If they’re a new or unknown species, eating them would destroy the evidence. As a scientist, I just couldn’t bring myself to do that.

I hope we get to the trench soon. Then, after we declare the imaginary sub found, fixed, and on her way, we can proceed a few hundred miles toward Hewlett’s sea lab and get on with things.

 The sooner we can complete our real mission, the sooner we can go ashore someplace and restock our galley.