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PCRI, Molokai, Hawaii, Earth
September 7th, 2035
Dr. Matthew Clark watched the bankers’ reactions and smiled. The entire group, all ten of them, were staring wide-eyed as Kray spoke.
”Shool moved in deep water. Deepest water. Shool was alone. Shool made first pod. Boy, girl, so have calves. Pod grew. Alone long time. Pod lonely. Shool fill water with life. Shool fill sky with life. Life good. Pod good. All good.”
Alice Kemp, president of Hawaiian Bank Corporation, turned to Matthew with her eyes wide and shining. “That is beautiful,” she said. “Did you teach it that?”
“Not at all,” Matthew said, shaking his head.
“Then where did it learn that?”
“Him,” Madison said.
“I’m sorry?” President Kemp asked.
“You said ‘it.’ Kray is a male, ‘him.’”
“Surely it doesn’t matter,” another banker said. “Him, her, it? They’re just animals.”
“Tell me, please, how many animals have a God?” All ten of the bankers gasped.
“That really doesn’t matter,” Matthew interjected, stepping forward to stop the fight he sensed was coming. “They, the orcas, told us this story after the translator was installed, after a week or so for Kray to become used to it. He talked to the others in his pod, and they put this story into words we could understand. Don’t you see? They created this!”
The bankers all nodded and looked at each other. Matthew could see an overlay of skepticism, so he pushed forward. “Think about people coming here, to Molokai, to interact with these noble...” he looked at his wife, “beings. What other stories might they have within themselves? Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve met aliens from the stars. They came here and told us we were not alone. Now we fly off across the galaxy and do what? Kill them? Get paid? Is that our sole destiny?”
He gestured to Kray, who was floating on his side, lazily pumping his massive fluke to slowly move around the tank. “Other intelligence was right here, among us, all along. The cetaceans are intelligent. They have language, a sort of oral history, perhaps even a mythology. People will come to hear about this.”
“And pay to hear it?” Kemp asked.
“Oh, without a doubt,” Matthew said.
“You have your talking fish,” she said, gesturing to Kray. Madison scowled as she continued. “Why do you need millions of dollars then? We appreciate the opportunity to invest in this project, but couldn’t you do it yourself with this one talking whale?”
“Sure,” Matthew said, then shrugged. “Probably. But with money, we can give all the rest of our wards these translators. More of their stories will come out, and they can grow as their own people—realize their potential!”
Kemp laughed, but the humor didn’t reach her eyes. “You talk as if they’re people.”
“Maybe they are,” Matthew said. “Maybe they are valuable people who can make you and I a lot of money.”
* * *
“I feel like I need a shower,” Madison snarled as she waved. Matthew grunted as he waved as well. All the scientists of the institute stood at the steps by the main drive as the investment bankers climbed into their limos. In a few minutes they’d be on private helicopters flying back to Honolulu.
“Yeah, but we have this,” he said and showed her the check for $10 million.
“Sure,” she said. “That’s part of why I feel dirty. Twenty-five percent of the institute’s profits from public outreach programming and any advertising revenue,” she spat, “all for filthy lucre. Sickening.”
“Without this filthy lucre, as you so eloquently put it, we’d be dead in the water, and Kray would the only cetacean to ever have a translator. Or worse, someone else would do it, and we’d sit here and watch. Think of the papers we’ll publish!”
“Is that what you’re most concerned with, Matthew?” she asked, turning a baleful glance his way. “Getting famous?”
“I want to help cetaceans,” he insisted. “If it takes some bankers’ money and a couple of jet ski commercials? So be it.”
“Still feels like exploitation to me,” she insisted.
“Perhaps, but we’ve agreed.” He looked at the check. “I’m going to turn this over to accounting and arrange to purchase the other implants. Looks like James has his work cut out for him.”
“I’m sure Dr. Jaehnig will be excited.” Matthew didn’t notice his wife’s facetious tone.
“Yes, I bet he will be!” The limos pulled away, and Matthew fairly ran inside, leaving his scowling wife behind.
* * * * *
