Chapter Thirty-One

Aftermath

A day came when Buffer called the entire surviving Clan to a Gathering at the Council Cliff. It was seven weeks after the Killer Imp Massacre. Nine months earlier, in the shadow of that very Cliff, Piper had been deemed a traitor and banished from the Clan that would one day proclaim her its savior.

Buffer and QuickFin—also heralded now as Heroes of the Pod—were settled back on their flukes. Buffer was in Thane SilverFlukes’ former groove; QuickFin, recently chosen by Buffer to be the new Commodore, was settled beside him.

It had come as a surprise to QuickFin that the role of Commodore was even to be continued, and that the honor had been bestowed upon him. No one disputed that the desire to survive had been instilled in them all by old RamStrong. Buffer felt it fitting that QuickFin be the one who continued in that service.

A form of the Fury Squad was also to be continued, though differently than in the past. Buffer had reaffirmed that the Commodore had not been entirely wrong about the need for a Pod’s defense. And it was up to QuickFin, and those who served on the Fury Squad, to see that defensive measures were not carried too far.

Though the Elders had all perished in the Imp Massacre, it was still felt there was a need to maintain a full High Clan—where no single Whistler could dominate. LightFin, SlickFin and Piper were therefore appointed as the High Council. Two of them were now seated on the lip of the Cliff.

Piper had not yet arrived.

Nearby, on the outskirts of the kelp forest that surrounded the cluster of young Whistlers, was the Kin Clan—the local Rovers. Piper was with them.

“They may not be ready for this yet, Piper,” said LoFin with a wag of her head.

“I know that, but we really cannot wait. The longer we put this off, the less chance there is they’ll feel right about it,” said Piper.

“Change is not easily accepted here,” answered LoFin acutely.

“Who knows that better than I?” said Piper.

“All right,” said LoFin with a wave of her blunt snout. “I just hope you know what you’re doing. I would wait. But then we Waifs have never been as earnest as you, my sweet friend.”

Piper eyed her.

“I wish you success, all the same. We’ll try to help,” said LoFin resolutely.

“Thank you, my merry scrap-eater,” teased Piper. Then in all seriousness she added, “I owe much to you.”

“Of course you do,” quipped LoFin. “Now be off about your business!”

Piper turned and scooted off to the Cliff. It was strange to see Buffer and QuickFin in place of Thane SilverFlukes and Commodore RamStrong. Would she ever get used to it? And would the Pod?

Both large males glowed regally in the morning gleam. QuickFin was showing early signs of his old physique, and Buffer carried himself so differently now. Piper was proud of them both. She felt good when she coasted up onto the lip of the Council Cliff and settled herself between LightFin and SlickFin.

Then Buffer called the Gathering to order—all that was left of the Kwi Coast Clan: seven males, five females, two younglings, and the new High Clan. Once they had numbered over seventy. Now there were only nineteen.

“We’re going to help you as best we can,” Buffer said to Piper. “But we must let them decide for themselves, you understand.”

“I understand,” said Piper with a nod of her beak.

“I wish you well,” LightFin said softly. The company of another female in the High Clan gave Piper added comfort.

“Thank you, LightFin,” said Piper. “I’ll show you some fine hunting when this is over.”

“Fellow Clan members…” Buffer bellowed grandly, “and you of the Kin Clan!” He nodded toward the porpoises. A chorus of merry whistles came down from the surface, where LoFin and her band hovered, breaking through the waves at frequent intervals for breaths of air. Someday, thought Piper, she would show them all what SlugFlukes had taught her about staying under longer.

A loud crunching and crackling of kelp stalks, followed by a snort and a raspy bellow, informed the Pod that SlugFlukes was in hearing range, having imbedded himself somewhere nearby. He did not dare come too close for fear of splattering the entire Council Zone into splinters with his cumbersome bulk.

“Today,” said Buffer from his perch, “we have gathered to make a difficult decision.” There was a row of chatter through the small group. Buffer hefted himself above the cliff’s lip, puffing out the gray-white of his burly chest. “We have known grim times of late. And were it not for the one this Clan once called a traitor and a fool—those times would have been far worse. We would all be dead!”

The Clan fell silent. Piper fluttered her flukes awkwardly.

“It is Piper, then, who will offer her wisdom this day,” added Buffer. “We of the New High Clan have met already on what she has to say…and we agree with her. But the final decision will rest with the entire Pod. So when we return from the break, you will all hear her out and then decide.”

With an upward swing of his beak, Buffer signaled the break. The Clan clicked obediently, excitedly, wondering what this great choice was that had to be made, and they were amazed the final decision was, in fact, theirs.

The break was quick, a score of vaporous clouds spewing high from every blowhole. Then they plunged back into Council order, and Piper gathered herself before them amidst a chorus of whistles and squeaks. The fair-skinned female looked sleek and prominent before the Clan, no longer the snippy rebel they had all once known. Now she was the very image of cetacean grace.

“Brothers and Sisters of Kwi Coast—when you hear what I have to say, you might not cheer so heartily. But please hear me before you judge.”

A hush fell over the Clan.

“For as long as any of us can remember, we have dwelled in these coastal waters—in a Cove—hiding, plotting, waiting…waiting for an enemy we never had to truly fear. And it cost us the death of nearly all our Clan. But we feared the Snag-Tooth, just as we feared the Open Sea…and the HunterKin…and the Cold Lord. We hid from them all. And because we did, we also hid from the truth.”

A murmur swept the Clan. Piper followed up quickly. “We massed for the Snag-Tooth. We thought only of how to protect ourselves from them. And we were very nearly destroyed by the Killer Imps…those we knew nothing about.”

“Are you saying, Piper, that we should desert our home?” exclaimed one of the Clanists suddenly.

“Not desert,” she answered softly, her black eyes fluttering as she answered the interruption. “We can always return whenever we want to. But we need to explore—to discover what else there is in the sea. Our Kin Clan has done that, and they are still alive and content,” added Piper, waving toward the porpoises with her beak.

LoFin nodded approvingly. Piper was doing well for herself.

“But to stay here forever, friends, is to stay ignorant of what lies out there. And it is a wondrous world which I myself have learned so much about.”

Piper paused a moment.

Then Snapper, a former battler of the Fury Squad, and one of the oldest to survive, spoke up. “Yes, the wondrous world that also nearly killed you, Piper!” he said, sounding just like old RamStrong.

“Why, we will be cast upon the Open Sea—alone—and without friends!” cried another fearfully.

“Not quite alone,” rumbled a husky voice. For the first time during the Gathering, SlugFlukes had spoken. “Hmph! You could do worse than win the friendship of my likes.” By now he had rambled through the outskirts of the kelp jungle, crunching and parting the giant kelp strands like so many twigs before his gargantuan frame. “Do not be rash in your judgment of the Open Sea. It is not as perilous as waiting for Hunter-Humunz to come by and slaughter you! Suppose little Piper here had never returned with the tidings you all scoffed at? Where would you all be then, eh, my fine SongFins?” grumbled SlugFlukes, lifting his motley head as he spoke.

Piper hoped his cantankerous manner had not frightened them. She didn’t want the Clan to be intimidated into the decision. Commodore RamStrong and the Elders had done that often enough.

“You’d all be chopped into tiny bits on that foul Floater if she hadn’t come back, sweet Whistlers!” snipped LoFin.

“Not everyone scoffed,” grumbled Buffer. “But the Rover is right. This Pod would have been destroyed, make no mistake about that!”

“There is also the Great Lord of the Sea,” reminded Piper. “Does anyone doubt me now about the magnificent Lord who saved me from Arkitu?”

The Pod agreed quietly. No one doubted any of Piper’s tales of the Deep anymore. But SlugFlukes winced at her mention of the mighty sea lord. He knew of the toothed BigFins—the Odons—and he knew also of the perpetual battles between sperm whales and giant squids that would go on till the end of time. Piper’s “Arkitu” was nothing more than one of the deadly Many-Arms. SlugFlukes knew them well, and he knew how dangerous they were. She had been fortunate that the Odon happened to be on the hunt and nearby at the time. He knew, too, that to convince any of this Pod, even Piper herself, that neither the Odon nor the Many-Arms were unworldly Lords of the Sea would be an impossible task. At least for now it would be. Perhaps some things were best left be…for a while, thought SlugFlukes.

The Clan had quieted gradually. Then QuickFin spoke. “This coast is all we have known…all I have known. And it’s been a good home,” he said softly. “And I, too, am scared of what might lie out there waiting for us. But who is to say now that more Hunter-Humunz will not come here? For all we know, those who attacked us might even live on these land masses nearby.”

“That is so true!” chimed in LoFin, soaring down in front of the Clan. “Do you think those Imps of the West the GhostFin showed Piper are the only ones who prowl the sea on such ugly hunts? They are a cunning, treacherous lot—all of them!” she cried out in a rare burst of excitement.

Not all of them, thought SlugFlukes, but he would take that up with LoFin later.

It was time for another air break. Buffer and the rest of the new High Clan agreed that the Pod should now gather amongst themselves and decide. All that needed to be said had been spoken.

It was time.

The main body of the Pod went off on their own, while the New High Clan, SlugFlukes, and the Rovers returned to the Council Zone. LoFin and SlugFlukes entertained them with a spirited exchange on the nature of Land Dwellers. Piper could see they were all in for even more spirited times whenever the two of them were together.

Finally the Pod returned. It was the burly Fury Fighter, Snapper, who spoke for them.

“Our world here has been destroyed,” he began, “and it may never be as it was before. Perhaps, if we had listened, things might have been different. But maybe it was meant to be this way.” Snapper’s voice broke a little. “Who knows? No one can say for sure. Can we find joy and comfort in the Open Sea—as our KinClan has done? Can we find peace there? No one has the answer, do they?” Snapper paused before adding, “We are ready to try, though. We will follow you there!”

Piper nodded quietly to Snapper. She felt very warm inside.

“You are the WhistlingFin—and SongFins are loved by many in the sea, for you are not a cruel or greedy lot,” SlugFlukes rumbled with affection. “But know your enemies and learn to avoid them when you can. And do help your own Kindred when you see them in need. Warn as many as you can, and carefully, of those monstrous Imps who bring disgrace to decent Land Dwellers—and to the sea itself. For it is a good sea.”

The Pod clicked respectfully…and the small band of porpoises echoed their sentiments.

“And now, friend SlugFlukes?” asked Piper brightly.

“The sea is there for all of you, my little SongFin,” he added softly. “Take heart,” he added. “Sometimes the Sea’s Strong Justice serves us as well as it teaches us.”