Chapter Five

The Wrath of the Fury Squad

Piper did not sleep well that night—or in the nights that followed. Dolphins, in fact, do not actually sleep as other creatures do. They fall off into a semi-conscious slumber so they can maintain a steady surfacing pattern and thereby avoid an accidental drowning. Part of a dolphin’s brain must remain awake to remind itself of the need to breathe while slumbering. Yet, even in that drowsy state, Piper was still haunted by the lingering images of all that LoFin had said that strange afternoon.

It was early morning, a week later, when Piper heard the call. It came to her, shrill and sharp, piercing through the thick fog that had encased her sleepy brain. Instantly she was alert. She recognized the unmistakable clicking and whistling they had all rehearsed so diligently. A final jolt of alarm sounded from deep inside. She shook off the last bits of haze and woke fully.

Dolphins whizzed by in hissing gray blurs, churning the early gloom of the dawn waters into foaming white bubbles. Mothers called frantically for their young, and above all the din, husky voices could be heard bellowing commands. It was impossible to see clearly, for the frantic beating of the water by the mass of thrashing flukes obscured her vision, while the constant static hampered her audial powers as well. The cove was one vast cloud of gloom. But through the din, her sonic impulses zeroed in on Commodore RamStrong’s gruff commands. The message he coughed out came back clearly: Snag-Tooth Invasion!

Piper could not believe it. Never in the history of Kwi Coast had any of the Snag-Tooth dared venture so close to the Boundaries as RamStrong’s clicks and whirs now signaled. She picked out the tactical commands the Commodore was issuing rapidly to the seasoned veterans and to the fledglings. If all that he called out were true…

LoFin. Had the Waif lied to her? Everything she had said had made so much sense. Or was it simply because she had wanted to believe it all because it had fit so conveniently with her own feelings? Piper was terribly confused. Up to now, all this talk of Snag-Tooth threats and invasions had all been one gory fantasy: a grizzled old Whistler’s Mad Prophecy. But now suddenly it was real! Something of great cunning had stolen upon the sleeping Pod. And if indeed it was a horde of maddened Snag-Tooth, could the small Clan of Kwi Coast hope to withstand them? Piper recalled LoFin’s grim account of the Mad-Eating and conjured a picture of the Snag-Tooth’s cold, empty eyes…and the gleaming jaws of death!

At that moment the young dolphin felt suddenly secure with the thought of being near the stouthearted Commodore. For all his pomp, RamStrong was yet capable of filling even the meekest of heart with his brimming confidence. And Piper now envied the likes of QuickFin and Buffer. Their heartiness in training had given them the nerve to confront almost anything. It made her resent the queasy feeling welling up inside which made her two-hundred-pound frame quiver violently. She did not want to be a coward here. From somewhere, she would muster the nerve.

So she sped through the steaming murk, zipping in and out of the tangle of plant stalks and the swarm of scurrying dolphins. Schools of jellyfish and plankton were batted in a hundred directions by the charging Whistlers, all soaring on to the Commodore’s call.

Then she came upon a sight that sent chills up her cetacean spine and down her flukes.

The waters near the Western Boundary had cleared a bit, revealing a row of over thirty dolphins lined across in perfect battle formation. RamStrong’s sturdy bulk passed casually along the gathering banks of Fury Fighters. Piper marveled at his poise. And, as expected—it was reassuring. Though the entire Squad (even the hardened veterans) seemed nervous, the eerie glint of battle that shone in the Commodore’s baleful eyes was reflected in every one of them.

Piper slipped into the ranks beside her brother, knowing she should have been at the tail end. But she needed to know that QuickFin was beside her. Deep in a tizzy, he barely noticed his sister there. The mood was one of an impending storm. A tremor of disquiet swept through her as she beheld her fellow Clanists, in all their battle zeal, frighteningly similar to LoFin’s description of Mad-Eating Snag-Tooth.

Then it appeared.

Not a charging pack; no horde of ravenous hunters. Just one. But one unlike any they had ever seen. Even the Commodore was shaken by this sight. He wished now that they had scanned it earlier. For, less than a hundred feet away, an enormous dark gray Snag-Tooth—well over twice the length of any Whistler in the Pod—was drifting quietly by the Boundaries, giving hardly a passing glance at the pack of thirty blood-eyed dolphins.

There was a stunned silence as the entire battle squad of strapping bulls and fiery-eyed females all watched the lone giant paddling by. The beast was fully aware of the dolphins, for his acute nervous system was attuned to the slightest vibrations for a lengthy distance. He had detected the presence of this pod earlier, but was not alarmed. Most of the Snag-Tooth regarded the WhistlingFin as potentially dangerous, but only when threatened. And this giant of the seas had seen many Whistlers in its time. In the depths of its tiny primitive brain, the giant Snag-Tooth knew of certain laws in the sea that were automatically obeyed. The creature understood the mutual Boundaries that were not to be crossed. So it paid these Whistlers no heed, knowing they, in turn, would do the same.

There was not a single member of the Clan who had imagined a Snag-Tooth so huge. All any of them had ever seen—including the Commodore—were the sleek Blues, or the stocky Browners and Bullers, or the speedy Sanders…but never anything the size of this black monster.

It was larger than any of the HunterKin!

Some quivered at its dark shade, wondering if it might even be one of the fell servants of the evil Cold Lord: Arkitu. The image of the Evil One always sent a wave of fear through the Pod. It opened up hidden pores where their deepest terrors lurked. Had Arkitu, Lord of the Black Waters—Ruler of the Midnight Depths—had He sent this thing to claim one of the Kwi Coast Pod as a prize to be brought back to his Dark Lair?

Were the Snag-Tooth secret minions of the Cold Lord?

RamStrong had not expected such a monster. Nor the effect it would have on his superstitious Pod. He had heard, in his youth, legends of mighty White Giants that grew among the Snag-Tooth but had never seen any for himself. And he had never heard anything of a creature like this!

The monster did not appear to threaten them at the moment, but still, it was a Snag-Tooth, and it was on the Boundaries of Kwi Coast. And it had come closer than any had dared venture before. The dark giant had had a telling effect on the Commodore’s proud Fury Squad. There was but one choice.

“We shall attack!” barked the Commodore to the amazement of all. His scarred face was cold, and the thunder in his voice jolted them from their collective trance and back into battle poise. “This may well be one of their great leaders,” he announced hoarsely. “It is probably scouting our strength to see if we are afraid. When we destroy it, the word will pass back to the others that even the mightiest of the Snag-Tooth will fall before us!”

The Squad clicked in unison, much of it by rote and some of it as a means of mustering courage.

The Commodore nodded his beak again in approval, then added, “And if it be of the Black Waters, then even Lord Arkitu will know that Evil may not enter Kwi Coast! From here on we shall be safe from all peril!”

A feverish clicking filled the gloomy water in response to the bold commands. Surely he is mad, thought Piper, to openly bait the terrible Cold Lord of the Black Waters. But it was her sudden glance at QuickFin that made her innards tremble all the more—for she saw in him, and in the eyes of all the others, the same madness.

Something was very wrong here. This giant creature from the Open Sea was fearsome to behold, yes, but so far it had done nothing more than pass by and glance at them. And as soon as the clamor began, it seemed that the Snag-Tooth had begun moving away faster—as if in fear?

Then came the command.

“Squadrons Sea-Flash and Storm-Shot, take to maneuvers…Circle-and plunge!” barked RamStrong.

Piper froze. Her stomach turned to sponge. Sea-Flash was her squadron.

Now it was no longer the fear of the unknown, but a growing dread that there was something very foul in what they were about to do. The black giant was not hurting any of them. In fact, she thought it might even be trying to flee. Despite its massive bulk, the creature did not appear to be a fighter.

Piper tried thinking back on something LoFin had told her about such monsters of the Snag-Tooth, but the Sea-Flash squadron of five had already begun its circling maneuver, and the Storm-Shot followed suit on the other side of the attack. The Fury Squad was using its “Crawler Formation”—attacking in the shape of a giant lobster. The outer squadrons acted as the long, hooked claws, which cut off the victim’s escape, while the main body of seasoned fighters bore straight on, acting as the tearing beak.

Piper wanted desperately to protest, but one look at the smoldering fires of her comrades’ eyes, and at Commodore RamStrong gathering his hefty bulk into fighting pose, warned her against it. This pack of gray fiends was not the familiar Clan she had always known, nor was their manner simply the swagger of cocksure braggarts. This horde she did not know. Killing would be no object to them. She wished Thane SliverFlukes were here to stop the senseless attack, but she knew that he and the Elders were all stationed back in the cove, massing the rest of the Clan for one last defense should the outer perimeter of Fury Fighters fail. For all his pomp, RamStrong was pragmatic. He knew it was possible for his Squad to come up short, for the lesson of long past had not faded from his memory.

The Squad sped straight on, driving their torpedo-like bodies ahead, slicing through the chilly dawn waters with powerful flaps of their tails. It was frightening—QuickFin at the fore of the Sea-Flash squadron, Buffer off to the left heading the Storm-Shot unit, and the main body of battle-scarred veterans roaring down at the center of the formation with RamStrong’s burly frame surging along in front. The grim commander was certainly not lacking in courage. He would be first to make head-on contact with the dark intruder.

It took barely a split second for the primitive giant to detect the mad battle lust in the frenzied pack that sizzled at him through the gloom. For an instant, the creature had a vague imprint in its mind of the deadly HunterKin packs that prowled the Open Seas.

But these were Whistlers.

There was no time, though, to reflect on the paradox of WhistlingFin behaving like their predatory kin. Escape flashed through its tiny brain. The big fish thrashed frantically through the wisps of broken kelp stalks, disrupting a colony of small garibaldi fish that had been preying on the shrimp and crabs stuck to the drifting plants. The force of the giant shark’s impact sent the garibaldis and their prey spraying in a score of directions.

Piper sensed the panic in the fleeing monster. And then it came back to her, what LoFin had said: Harmless giants, those whose teeth were so tiny they fed only on the little plant-creatures. Baskers.

Then there was no need to kill this grand giant! It meant no harm. She must somehow try to save the gentle creature from her crazed Pod.

With several strong beats of her flukes, Piper was out in front of QuickFin. Two more beats propelled her well ahead of the entire lobster formation. Her sudden maneuver had not gone unnoticed by the Commodore, who, even in his fervor, nodded his beak in approval. He hadn’t expected such abrupt heartiness from her in battle. Perhaps this was what she had needed all along, he thought. Finally the true Whistler had been flushed out of the little scamp. RamStrong felt his heart swell with pride at the sight of Piper bearing down on the giant beast, the Squad zooming in behind her. It did not matter that she had broken ranks. She had become a fighter.

The Basker knew it could not outswim this speedy pod. He was frightened, for he was not a fighter like his own savage Kin, but now he would have found their fearful company a welcome sight. Only his great size could aid him in gaining precious time for escape. One of the Whistlers, a small white-finned one, was well ahead of the charging pack. He would take the foolish pest out with one swipe of his massive tail, and perhaps that might discourage the rest.

The Basker swirled around with a mighty twist of his gargantuan frame. A small school of mackerel scuttled away in panic at the sight of the grisly chase advancing on them. The pursuit had gone well into the OutZone and now approached the dark spectrum of the Open Sea.

In her haste to save the huge basking shark, Piper nearly lost her life! She zoomed in too close and barely missed being struck by the roaring black tail. She cried out at the dark giant, scanning its massive shape with her sonar, amazed at how closely the creature resembled its more savage cousins: the sturdy, streamlined body, the low underslung jaw…and for that instant she thought she might be mistaken. What if this beast was dangerous?

Then the two caught each other’s eye. Piper saw fear in that ebon stare, not the usual cold glare that was typical of the silent killers. This Snag-Tooth was more like images she had had of the stately gray GhostFins—the gray whales of the Open Seas, of which she’d heard many legends. So she whistled and cried and clicked at the Basker again, hoping it would know enough to turn and flee. There would be no reasoning with the shrieking horde she barely recognized as her own Pod. For this beast to stay and fight would be folly. The odds were too great. And the Basker knew nothing of the Kwi Coast Pod’s prowess. Piper saw there was but one chance for it to escape.

She tried sending an image to the big fish that she would try diverting the attack by intercepting the first of the Fury Fighters to home in on it—even if it meant trying to obstruct the bullish assault of Commodore RamStrong himself! She was dreadfully frightened, but to allow her Pod to slaughter this innocent creature would be a terrible disgrace. If she could distract them, perhaps it might escape in all the confusion.

It was to no avail. The shark merely stared at her almost stupidly, puzzled by the babbling dolphin which, instead of attacking, held its distance and seemed to be scolding him. The shark lowered its jaw—as if to speak?—and Piper stared hard at it. Its teeth were so tiny they would not have been able to grasp hold of anything stronger than a Stinger. This Basker was indeed harmless.

If the shark had truly been making an attempt to communicate with Piper, it was now too late. It had waited too long. QuickFin was the first to strike, slamming heavily into the huge gill slits! The Basker moaned in agony. It glanced over at Piper accusingly, betrayal in its witless stare. The shark wailed in horror as Buffer made contact on the other side.

“No!” shrieked Piper. And she drove straight on at the cocky Buffer, bumping the burly youngster off course before he could land another telling blow. But by then, QuickFin had spun underneath and had driven his hard snout into the basking shark’s underbelly, tearing a horrible hole in its stomach. Piper tried intercepting her brother’s next assault, but now the Commodore and the rest were upon the giant.

RamStrong drove head-on and then swerved in for the gills, while the rest of the Squad swarmed all over the hapless creature like a nest of yellowjackets whose ground lair had just been trampled on. Blow upon blow was rained upon the helpless shark. There would be no counterattack from the Basker. The giant shark had been out of balance from the moment of QuickFin’s first hit.

And as the pack of frenzied cetaceans swarmed all over the defenseless fish—letting forth from their blowholes frightful howls and cries like some swarm of underwater banshees—Piper zipped in and out, trying futilely to block any attack she could intercept.

“But it’s harmless! Look at its teeth! No…this is wrong!” she cried.

The Squad, though, was deaf to her shrieking and oblivious to her actions. The slaughter continued long after the Basker had died. Even after the creature had broken up into bloody hunks and shreds, they continued ramming the pieces about with their beaks.

Piper felt sick, guilty that she had inadvertently set the beast up for such an easy kill. If only she had let it be, it might at least have had a fighting chance. For the first time in her life, Piper wished she had never known the disgrace of being born of the WhistlingFin.