Chapter Seven

The Clan and the Code

A cold gray morning crept over the sea the day of Piper’s trial. Many a season had passed since the High Clan had assembled the Council of Justice. The threat of Exile was enough to keep dissenters under control, for there is nothing a Whistler dreads more than solitude.

The WhistlingFin were an emotional lot, always in dire need of comradeship. Without it they were lost, stranded on a desolate sea. And though solitude was a cruel punishment, it was also understood that a violator of the Code threatened the Pod’s unity…its very means of survival. Codes varied from clan to clan, and freedom within a pod also varied, but the belief that such laws must be revered was strong within every one of them.

At Kwi Coast, a violator found guilty was faced with the “Exile of the Hundred Dawns”—from which none had ever returned. The Hundred Dawns meant banishment to the Open Sea, where one was at the mercy of Snag-Tooth hordes and marauding HunterKin packs. And it meant the threat of the Black Waters, an ancient evil that every Whistler at Kwi Coast had been raised to fear. For in the faraway ocean depths dwelled the Cold Lord, Arkitu, who commanded terrible dark things that sometimes rose from the gloom to snatch away lone sea creatures—captives the Evil One’s minions brought back to their cruel master’s lair. There, the Cold Lord gobbled up those hapless captives, feasting on them voraciously. And once his greedy hunger was satiated, he fed the scraps to his groveling minions, so they might remain strong enough to seek out and bring him more victims from the bright world above.

Some said there was even a foul breed of Snag-Tooth that served Arkitu, for it was noticed that fearsome-looking black ones were seen stealing into the dark caverns below, where the silent Slithering Ones dwelled. Only creatures of evil would dare mingle with so depraved a lot and stay so long in their shadowy dwellings. For weren’t there Snag-Tooth who sometimes lurked in the ooze of the sea’s floors…and others whose young ate one another while still inside their mothers’ wombs? Were the caves of the Slithering Ones a place where the evilest of the Snag-Tooth plotted secretly with Arkitu’s minions?

And when the sea pitched and heaved, it was believed that Lord Arkitu had caused it to happen so his legion of dark fiends could fly to the surface in search of more prize catches…for he was ever hungry. There was nary a Kwi Coast Whistler who did not fear being cast out to such a fate.

So they all paid heed to their Code.

****

Now Piper faced them: The Five. Settled back on their flukes, the council dolphins rested against a craggy cliff that sprouted a huge lip-shaped section at its base. And from that cliff, Thane SilverFlukes, Commodore RamStrong, and the three Elders addressed the Clan on formal matters.

The cliff rose high from a sandy bed of gravel, its mighty walls strangled in the growth of the tall, brown kelp-weed. Globs of jellyfish floated everywhere, while the usual clutter of lobsters and crabs scuttled all over the floor of tiny stones and shells. They were one mile out from their Home Cove, and a vast forest of kelp surrounded them on almost every side. The chilly morning waters were a sallow green, making the world beneath the waves gloomy and foreboding.

For Piper it harbored an air of menace. Her usual swagger had faded under the weight of the pending trial. She now wondered if she ever should have interfered with the attack. Nothing she could have done would have saved the Basker anyway. If she had only let things be in the first place, the giant beast may have had a better chance of surviving the assault. Everything had taken its toll on her—the trial, the Pod’s disturbing talk of Exile, and dreadful murmurings of the Black Waters… And it pained her to know how her own Clan now spoke of her as “a deviant and an evil influence on the young.” Piper had lived in scorn for some time, but this was different. Her own Pod hated her…and inside she cried, for she had loved them and had only done what she thought was right. And she knew she would do it again if she thought it might save some harmless creature of peace.

The Pod was gathered in a large semicircle round the Council Cliff. They brushed the floating wisps of broken seaweed aside with their beaks as they waited patiently for Piper’s trial to begin, holding their prone postures with steady flaps of their flukes. Only the High Clan was permitted to “sit” during a formal gathering.

Thane SilverFlukes sat at the middle of the moss-covered cliff’s lip, the Commodore immediately to his right. An Elder, the only female of the High Clan, sat beside RamStrong, and the other two flanked the Thane on the other side. Piper could never remember the names of the three Elders. All she knew was that they were very old (easily over forty seasons) and not very attractive to look at. Their faces were wrinkled—and always the trio of aged Whistlers acted very solemn, as though they were ready to scold some younger Clan member just for breathing wrong. Their skin was mottled and stale gray, and Piper used to think if they swam too fast they might accidentally swim right out of it. She could not help wondering what kept such timeless fossils alive. She used to joke about them to QuickFin, but he had never found it funny.

Now they did not appear so comical. The three Elders looked very austere…very cold, their long, beaked faces hardened by the forthcoming task. Piper wondered if they had already made up their minds. A glance over at RamStrong gave her cause to believe he had certainly done so. Her stomach turned at the notion of her trial being nothing more than a mere formality—punishment soon to follow. Even her brother bore a frosty air about him, and Piper wondered if he too had already passed judgment.

Once more she questioned the good sense of her own actions. And so much of it due to the clever words of a chattering Harbor Waif. Had she been duped? Could the Basker have been dangerous? She had been so sure of herself at the time, but now nothing made sense to her. Perhaps the High Clan would think her mad. A Mad Whistler could not be banished; Piper knew that. But she had never felt so frightened. Why did they all have to look at her so hatefully? And, oh, how Buffer must be enjoying all this!

“The Offender will now address the High Clan!” proclaimed RamStrong, sounding like some rusty old bell tolling the final hour of judgment. Piper ceased in her ruminating and fluttered over to the cliff lip nervously. She steadied herself a few yards from the semicircle of the High Clan. She felt tiny and insignificant before them—while behind her, the great circle of Pod members looked like the mouth of a giant clam ready to swallow her up on command.

“I am the Offender…” she squeaked, barely audible.

There was a pause, and then one of the male Elders began. “Are we to understand that this upstart here, barely beyond her weaning period, has not only defied the Clan Code but has even gone as far as condemning the efforts of our longtime Commodore?” The grizzled Elder waved his scarred snout in disgust, and it seemed for a moment that the rictus of his mouth—which gives all dolphins that semblance of a smile—actually reversed and turned downward into a scowl. He followed up piously, “Why, our gallant Commodore has saved at least six or seven good Whistlers from a gruesome death. But for his quick response to danger, any one of us might have found ourselves crushed between the jaws of a ferocious giant of a Snag-Tooth!”

The Clan clicked in agreement as if on command. Piper suppressed a strong urge to protest regarding the “jaws” of the giant. She did not want to mar her chances of explaining herself. She needed time to gather her composure so she could think clearly…and rationally.

“What is it, if I might be so presumptuous to ask,” continued the Elder Whistler in his raspy voice, “that provides one whose flukes barely yet flutter with such insight into the ways of our mortal Enemy that she may shun the foresight and judgment of our Clan’s strongest defender and even scorn our very customs? Where does your vast knowledge come from—Offender?”

RamStrong suppressed a nod, hiding his approval behind a stony glare that marked his bullish face. He was satisfied with these opening proceedings, and he was not displeased with the Elder dolphin’s flattering remarks.

Piper remained silent, her motion stilled, her ashen eyes solemn and quiet. She felt depressed and irritated by this gibber she was hearing from Elders she had been raised to respect. The queasy feeling inside her had now subsided under the barrage of jibes. Was this the way the WhistlingFin acted in times of serious matters? And did Thane SilverFlukes approve? She stared sullenly at the grim half-circle of Clan Rulers. In the sallow green of the morning murk, they looked more like pallid ghosts of yore…brought back to pass sentence upon the cocky upstart who had violated their sacred ways.

Her silence appeared to rankle the Elders.

“Perhaps,” interjected the she-Elder, a rather rumpled old dolphin, “perhaps our young rebel here feels that she owes no explanation.”

“Or perhaps she prefers the Snag-Tooth to her own Kin,” quipped RamStrong.

“Yes, let her frolic with them,” snickered the other male Elder, who had yet to put in an opinion. His crusty chest puffed out as he spoke, displaying a network of wrinkles and scars. “Why, she might even find a mate among them. There must be some reason our little beauty snubs the males of her own Clan.”

“That’s not true!” chimed Piper, unable to hold back any longer. These Elders were being ridiculous, and it aggravated her. But it was RamStrong’s slur that had angered her most. A williwaw of chatter erupted within the Pod. There were few males in the Clan who had not made a play for Piper and been spurned. The Elder had voiced the frustration of every one of them, and Piper was sure he had done it on purpose. The old fossil was probably voicing his own frustrations as well, she mused.

Above the clamor, Piper thought she heard her brother’s smooth voice rising in an angry pitch as if he were arguing with some other young bull. It comforted her in spite of everything else. And she would have been surprised indeed to also see the angry eye Buffer had shot at the Elder who had made that banal remark about her. But now she was furious and no longer cared what she said—or what would happen to her. They had made their minds up already anyway. What point was there to a trial when decisions were made before it ever began? Piper did not flinch in the least as she spoke.

“The Basker was harmless, it was peaceful—and you knew it!” she fairly hissed. A stream of bubbles roared out from her blowhole and into the fog above. “You didn’t have to kill it…but you wanted to!”

RamStrong’s face darkened. His eyes flashed, and the scars on his blunt snout pulsated. He was about to rebut when Thane SilverFlukes interrupted. “Let us break for air,” the Thane commanded, and the fervor subsided. Whenever he gave an order, it came from a long line of regal Whistlers whose memories were sacred. None, not even the brash Commodore, was foolish enough to question it.

“The Offender shall be granted a chance to explain her actions,” SilverFlukes said smoothly. “Let us not forget that this is Kwi Coast. All may speak their piece when they choose.”

The Thane’s cut-off was timely, for Piper knew she had nearly let loose with a barrage that would have sealed her fate. Had she been allowed to retort then and there, she’d have suffered badly for her impertinence. Was the Thane simply preserving the rights of the Offender…or was it possible he thought there might be more to her actions than treachery?

The Pod rose to the surface, Piper swimming between two of the Elite Fury Guard. She knew that when it came to a decision, the Thane’s vote counted as two. If he made his feelings known, he might even sway an Elder, maybe more than one. And if the vote were a tie, then it would be SilverFlukes who broke it. She would be careful, from here on, in how she presented herself.

Tension was high when the Pod returned. The dolphins arranged themselves once more in trial fashion and awaited Piper’s defense. SilverFlukes seemed relieved when he saw the youngster taking her time before resuming. She chose to picture the Basker for them—using elaborate sonic projections to illustrate the image of the giant peaceful beast. Then she conjured the same images LoFin had told her of—how these tiny-toothed sharks fed on plankton and krill, the very plant-creatures that the great gray whales feasted on. Finally, she conveyed to them a vivid impression of their attack on the basking shark.

The Pod was attentive. There had been no interruptions except for several quick breaths of air, which they had all done in complete silence. They seemed fascinated by the image of this unusual giant of the seas, an apparent freak of the Snag-Tooth hordes. But at Piper’s mention of the near useless teeth, and the glimpse of fear she had detected in the creature’s eye, RamStrong broke the spell.

Piper had been doing too well. Danger signals were rumbling inside the old Whistler. The young upstart had etched a most convincing picture of a harmless herbivore, and before she could go any further, the Commodore’s voice broke in like a boom of thunder blasting away the tranquility of a sunny afternoon.

“This is utter nonsense!” he bellowed. The picture suddenly shattered, and the mood vanished. “From somewhere inside her infantile mind, this brash deviant has dared insult our intelligence. We are the WhistlingFin—the most intelligent creatures in all the sea! How dare you try making fools of us?”

Piper was taken aback by his outburst. She wanted to respond, but felt suddenly lost in the wake of the Commodore’s fire. RamStrong wasted no time in following up his advantage. He had their audience back again and had to strike before Thane SilverFlukes stopped him.

“We all know how the Snag-Tooth were named!” he boomed, hefting himself out from his seated position so that he rose several feet higher than the other Council members. “Have we all forgotten how their teeth become snagged in the flesh of their victims—and how some fall out, only to grow back later? Do we forget our basic lessons in Snag-Tooth lore?” There was a click of agreement from somewhere in the throng of gray bodies circling the Council Cliff, and RamStrong pressed on. “This vile monster we slew had likely just killed and had yet to grow in its next full layer,” he explained, as though lecturing a group of youngsters for the very first time. “Our cunning rebel here merely saw in that monster Snag-Tooth’s jaws the result after it had shredded its last meal.”

The Commodore seated himself again at the close of his statement, smug in the assurance he had won back the Pod to his side. A glance toward them all, and then to the High Clan, told him he had every reason to gloat. He’d won. Every Whistler there looked embarrassed at having even considered the Offender’s fantastic tale, which now they felt sure had been a mere trick to make fools of them all. A storm of angry squeals and grunts erupted amongst them.

SilverFlukes signaled another break. He was confused. Piper’s story had not sounded so farfetched to him, but much of what the Commodore had said also made sense. RamStrong’s feelings went along with everything they had ever known about the Snag-Tooth. The Thane wanted more time to think about it, but now all was chaos.

The clicking and whirring of over fifty cetacean voices filled the water as they surfaced for air. “Of course the Commodore is right!” could be heard. “There are no peaceful Snag-Tooth…they have always sought to rule the seas!” Even the Elders were bickering and hollering on the way up and back down again. Nothing like this had ever happened at Kwi Coast before.

When they had reassembled, SilverFlukes decided he would delay the rest of the Hearing till he had ample time to think about everything—and then to confer with the High Clan privately. And had Piper known that, or simply waited as she had before, she might not have made so terrible a mistake.

“You are all so blind!” she cried in a voice that startled even the Commodore. “The Rover was right! You refuse to think. You are all doomed!”

Piper’s mention of the lowly Harbor Waifs—especially her using their true name—brought a grim hush over the entire gathering. This scamp has had frequent meetings with the scavenging Waifs. And they have corrupted her with their sly speech. Even SilverFlukes was appalled by it. Here was one of the most serious violations of the Kwi Coast Code! There could be no delaying the trial now…nor even a judgment of Madness. It was suddenly clear to them all where Piper had gone every day to frolic.

”So it is from the Harbor Waifs you have learned such blasphemies,” snorted RamStrong. “And is it they who taught you to scoff at the danger that has always threatened us?”

Piper knew it had been a mistake to let that slip, but the frustration of the Commodore ruining her one chance to explain herself had been too much. They hadn’t even let her finish! What kind of freedom was that? Oh, but it would have been different if she had been saying what the Commodore had wanted to hear!

“No danger threatens us as you would have us believe—you bitter old tyrant!” cried Piper in a boil of anger. Her ash-black eyes flashed like brilliant ebon fires, her sleek gray-and-white body twisting and contorting as she spoke. She was no longer the timid little scamp they had always known. Not anymore. “That Basker never lost any teeth. It couldn’t bite anything bigger than a Crawler. And your Furies are nothing more than a sickness of creatures too simple to even form a hunting party of their own. You all just want an excuse to kill Snag-Tooth and…and someday the Land Dwellers will come in their big Floaters and take you and the Snag-Tooth away…and then where will you be?”

Piper was terribly confused. Too many thoughts flew at her in the welter of rage she was feeling. She knew what she’d just said had been so jumbled that it probably hadn’t made sense to any of them. But the anger had passed through her quickly. She was drained now and sorry for her rash words. She hadn’t meant to hurt anyone by what she said, not even the Commodore. But the damage was done.

“Hear this upstart!” roared RamStrong. “She violates the Clan Code, endangers her own Pod, and then mocks her own leaders and her Clan’s most precious beliefs!”

The three Elders were already nodding their beaks in a rapid, hushed anger. SilverFlukes, startled by it all, dropped into a glum silence. The chatter of the Pod died as quickly as it had begun. All was still. Thane SliverFlukes lifted his silvery body above the mossy cliff and pronounced the sentence he had been dreading. He knew he had to enforce the Code of the Clan. There was no other choice.

“The Offender, Piper, leaves us no choice but to enforce the Exile of the Hundred Dawns,” he proclaimed quietly and solemnly. “Survive, and you are free to return and live once more under the laws of Kwi Coast. This is the judgment of the High Clan.”

There had been no need for a vote. Piper had openly admitted her own guilt. She felt the Thane’s grief, knowing he had never wanted to pass the dread sentence of Exile. She eyed him sadly, then turned her gaze toward the gray ranks of her Clan. She could not find QuickFin in the swirl of bodies, but did catch the cold faces of all the rest and the frosty gaze leveled by many of them back at her.

Then Piper spotted Buffer and thought she might be mistaken, for it looked to her as if he had dipped his beak in a gesture of sorrow.

Finally she spoke. “You are my Pod—and I will always love you.”