Prologue

The high-pitched whistle made Alberta sit up in surprise. Staring out into the bay, she saw a porpoise's small fin skimming the waves towards her. The porpoise poked its head out of the water, splashing her, and squealing. Scowling, Alberta flung her towel farther up the dock. The porpoise, however, splashed her playfully. She stood up and scanned the bay. Frowning, she looked down at the porpoise.

“Who are you, then?” she demanded.

The porpoise whistled and klicked at her, obviously trying to tell her something, but not in a way that made any sense to the mariner. She shook her head, straining to understand. She could tell the porpoise seemed to be saying the same thing, using the same klicks and whistles, but she didn’t know what.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I don’t understand.”

“Alberta!”

The mariner looked up from the porpoise, waving toward the young lifeguard who sailed across the bay towards her.

“Alberta!” Kian shouted again. “You’re being recalled! It’s urgent, they said!”

“All right!” she called back. She patted the porpoise's side apologetically. “I’m sorry,” she said softly, then dove into the water towards Kian’s boat. He hauled the boat around while she climbed on board, warning her to keep her head down.

“What’s up?”

Kian shrugged, letting the sail snag the wind, his eyes flicking towards the porpoise now swimming alongside. “They didn’t say,” he said after a moment, “but it was Bertie who called. Say, who’s your new friend?”

“I don’t know,” Alberta said, frowning. “He can’t seem to talk.”

“You can talk to porpoises?”

“Yes, and most whales, too, but this one either has an incredible accent, or never learned. He’s definitely trying to say something, though. Just wish I knew what.”

“Well, maybe you can take him with you. Bertie did say she wanted you to test out Liz’s new ‘jet.”

Alberta sighed. “Why can’t I ever have a real vacation?”

Kian laughed. “Well, look at it this way, when they stop calling you for missions, then it's time for vacation.”

“Huh. You know, you're right. So when are you heading out?"

“Got another few weeks before I’ll find out where I’m being stationed. Can't wait, either. Tired of being just a lifeguard.”

“Just,” echoed Alberta, hopping onto the dock. “Thanks for the lift, I’ll be seeing you!”

Kian waved back, shouting, “I certainly hope so!”

Gathering up her towel, Alberta jogged up to the old lodge where she’d been spending her summer. The place wasn’t as run-down as it might appear to a casual observer. In fact, on the inside there wasn’t much to disguise the top-secret installation. Past the large multi-purpose room where old and new sailboats, canoes, and kayaks hung on the walls, were the kitchen and its three-person staff, but after that were rooms full of high-tech security and surveillance systems. The Mariner Academy was centered around a massive computer system that located possible mariners world-wide. Alberta hadn’t been back here since she’d graduated, a full ten years ago. She slid into one of A.M.E.’s booths, setting her hand palm-down on the recognition pad.

“Good afternoon, Alberta,” said A.M.E., the computer’s soft voice unusually worried.

“Heard there’s some kind of trouble.”

“Yes. Bertie McDonald has requested your intervention. You are going to Fialda –“

Alberta groaned. “ Again? What is it with them?”

“Ms. McDonald seems to think you are best suited for this task.”

“But I requested off the Disaster Relief team! I don’t –“ her voice caught, “I don’t want to do this any more, A.M.E.! Bertie should know that!”

“Nevertheless, I have granted her request.”

“What? Why, A.M.E.? Are you turning down my transfer?”

“No, I would still like you here, as I told you weeks ago. This is a short-term assignment only. Your duties here can wait that long. Bertie does not often ask for help.”

“I know that,” Alberta muttered darkly, not wanting to be dragged back.

“You will pilot the new Cjet to where Ms. McDonald waits.”

“So, what’s the problem?”

“It would seem Hurricane Huey is not going to disperse after all.”

Alberta rolled her eyes. “I could’ve told’em that!”

“You are no longer part of the team,” A.M.E. reminded her.

“So what do they want me for?”

“One of the areas that will be hit hardest is Key West, with the airport and harbor there. Most of Huey will hit the Everglades, but the Keys are still in great danger. With your expertise in underwater rescue, I agreed with Ms. McDonald. You are the best person for the job.”

“You forget I don’t have a partner,” said Alberta coldly.

“I don’t forget, Ms. Greenewood. You will be supplied a temporary partner, one I can assure you has plenty of experience. The rest of the team will be there as well, and some of the Fialda Team; they’re spread thin, what with the oil spill, but you will have plenty of back-up. Your duty station will be the Key West area: the airport, harbor, and Wildlife Reserve. Get them prepared, clean-up where necessary, and get back in one piece. Ms. McDonald will brief you on the specifics.”

Alberta grunted, feeling cold and hollow inside. She swallowed, forcing moisture down her suddenly dry throat.

“Best of luck.”

Stepping from the booth, Alberta leaned against the smoky-gray Plexiglas, looking up at the ceiling.

“Bad news?”

“Kind of,” she sighed, smiling at the white-haired gentleman who was the current director. “A.M.E.’s sending me to help out my old team.”

“Ah,” Tobi Jenkins said, giving her a sympathetic smile. “Well, good luck. Will you miss this coming semester?”

“Shouldn’t. A.M.E. seems to think I’ll only be gone a few days.”

“Bertie will be glad of your help.”

Alberta flinched inwardly, fighting back another sigh. “Yeah, I know, but I don’t really want to go.”

“You want Dr. Qiesun to declare you medically unfit?”

Alberta considered the option – for a moment, anyway. She shook her head. “No, there’s too many ways that could backfire. No, I’d best go. They’re right about one thing, though: I am the best for the job.” Even without Bellah.

“You’ll do fine. Just come back, hear?”

Forcing herself to smile, Alberta nodded. “I will,” she said, “I’ll see you later.”

Stepping into the lift, Alberta waved to Tobi, then sank against a wall as the doors slid closed. She was on her floor moments later, at her door before she was ready, and packing her bag too fast to think about anything else. A few minutes later, dressed once more in her uniform, her hair pulled back, and her bag secured in the hold, Alberta eased the Cjet from its underwater hanger.

She liked the feel of the new craft immediately. The little ship responded to the slightest movement of her hands, and the fluidity of motion belied the speed at which they traveled. Flicking on the radar, Alberta took the Cjet through its paces, trying out all of the new devices and gadgets Liz had installed. But Fialda wasn’t too far and she was there much sooner than she wanted.

“C-2-3-1 out of Willamette request approach vector Nor-by Nor-West ten at thirty-D. Over.”

“This is K-W-nine. Approach vector granted, velocity at .23. Over.”

“Roger, K-W. Coming in. Out.”

Pulling the nose of her craft into the specified angle of ascent, Alberta pulled back on her speed, gradually slowing and homing in on her beacon, even as other C-craft maneuvered around her. The Cjet slid into the open portal easily, and Alberta expertly turned her craft about as the portal doors closed behind her and the water began to recede. She popped the hatch and grabbed her bag as the air pressure equalized. Stepping onto the walkway, she took a deep breath and waited for the bell to signal permission to exit.

The bell rang, and the doors slide apart, cool air fanning her face. Alberta stepped into the lift and was shot upward to the fairway. She stepped out, and onto the moving sidewalk that carried other passengers to the exit. She sped past lounges where people waited their transports, past cafes and restrooms, and past luggage, claims, customer service, and passengers moving in the opposite direction. She stared out at the stormy sea, at the ships that tossed in the heavy winds. Over the loudspeaker came announcements for arrivals and departures, but Alberta tuned them out, lost in thought. When the walkway came to its end at the entrance/exit, she stepped off gladly, walked under the security x-rays, and moved toward the doors. Outside, she slid into a taxi, just as the skies darkened with rain.

“Whew!” said the cabby, turning his head to look at her, “Ye jest missed a drenching.”

Alberta didn't return his smile. “Harbor-Guard, please.”

“Right-o! Be there in a jiff.”

He was as good as his word, setting Alberta on the steps of the office within ten minutes. She darted through the downpour and inside, shaking off the rain with a rueful smile.

“Can I help you?” asked the clerk.

“Yes, I’m looking for Ms. Bertie McDonald.”

“Oh, Ms. McDonald is in a meeting with Chief Flannerey. Would you like to wait?”

“No. Where is it, please?”

“I’m sorry, I cannot –“

Alberta flipped open her badge. “You can, as I have been requested by Ms. McDonald specially.”

“Oh! Beg your pardon, ma’am. Let me just tell them you’re here.” The clerk jumped, dropping the phone with a clatter as a boom of thunder crashed overhead.

Alberta rolled her eyes. “Never mind, I’ll find them myself.” She strode past the astonished clerk, momentarily feeling guilty, but shaking it off. She was here to work, not to dance around the bureaucracy. As she suspected, the two were deep in discussion around a table in the observation lounge. She paused a few paces a way and cleared her throat.

The dark-haired woman, her curly hair dangling free, looked up and around the stacks of papers. The deep worry lines around her mouth and eyes eased as she smiled. Her gray eyes met Alberta’s blue ones and her welcoming smile faltered a little. “I was beginning to wonder if I would ever see you again.”

Alberta held herself stiffly, the pain in her heart stabbing with a force that made any glad thoughts vanish. “I’m here, but I don’t have to like it,” she said.

Bertie hauled herself to her feet as the Harbor-Guard Chief rose. “Chief Flannerey, this is Alberta Greenewood.”

Alberta shook the Chief’s hand.

“Pleased to meet you, Ms. Greenewood. Are you here to help?”

“I am, sir.”

“Glad to hear it. You are experienced in this type of, er, occurrence?”

“She is one of our finest,” Bertie said quickly. “I specifically requested her when Huey didn’t pause by the rift like we were hoping.”

“Ah, I see. Glad to hear it. I’ll, uh, just get myself a refill.” He picked up a half-filled cup and left.

Bertie and Alberta gazed at each other for a moment, until the Chief was out of earshot. “Some storm, huh?” Bertie commented.
Alberta nodded.

Bertie moved slightly, gesturing to the map on the table. “I’m putting you here,” she said, pointing. “There’s an observation bubble there, with a three-sixty view, both of the harbor and the wildlife refuge.”

“Where’s the airport?”

“I’ve placed Anka there. She’s new to this, and there’s not too much traffic. The harbor, on the other hand, will remain operational for the next thirty-six hours, so there’ll be a lot of outbound. Also, there’ve been some damage to the coral reefs, here, so keep an eye out for trespassers. You know the drill.”

“Where’s everyone else?”

“Colin will be here, Cherika here, Jerry there. Mohammad, Judah, and Izzy will be over here, I’ve put Clarissa, Peurl, and Phillip here, and of course I’ll be up here. There’s three of the Fialda Team, Khris, John, and Tony out patrolling in shifts. One of them can be wherever you are in minutes if you run into trouble.”

“When is the last transport leaving?”

“That will be the Miami Belle,” Bertie said, rifling through a stack of papers. She frowned. “They keep delaying their departure. Likely, they’ll wait until the last minute, and they’ll be going directly over your head, so watch for them.”

“Right. Anything I should know about the area? Any changes?”

“Nope, other than the usual. Hopefully, Huey won’t be as destructive to the sea-bottom as Hannah was. I’d hate to see all the reconstruction work undone. So,” she said, looking up, “when can you start?”

“I’ll head out right now, if there’s nothing else for me.”

Bertie shook her head, “Nope, but you know how foolish people can be.”

Alberta nodded, her hands clenching into fists with the wave of anger that, as quickly as it came, vanished again.

“Oh, you’re partner’s name is Mike. He’s already down there, waiting. He’s not exactly the talkative sort, so you should get along just fine.”

Alberta nodded, her gaze flickering away from Bertie, to the windows.

“Do you need someone to show you the way?” Bertie asked quietly.

“No,” said Alberta, shaking her head, “I remember.”

“Check in regularly, okay?”

Alberta nodded. She left the room quickly, making her way to the lift that would take her to the docks. She stopped in the locker room to change, ignoring the loud talk of the HGs as they prepared to go out in their boats on patrol or relaxed from a finished shift.

“Boy, is it getting nasty out there!” said one young woman with a whistle. The jacket she shrugged into identified her as a Seaman Apprentice, probably on her first assignment. “Have you ever seen it this bad?” she asked no one in particular.

“I have,” said a woman, toweling her long hair. “I was here for Hannah. Nasty one, that.”

“I was over in Tarentio,” said another. “That was for George. He took almost two miles off the coast.”

“What about you?” the seaman asked, looking at Alberta.

The mariner glanced up from unlacing her boots. “I’ve seen lots of storms,” she answered.

“But like this one?” pressed the girl.

“Can’t you tell she’s a mariner?” asked a woman sporting lieutenant’s bars. “Of course she’s seen storms like this. Get on, they’re waiting for you.” The lieutenant turned to Alberta. “Sorry ‘bout that. That one’s as fresh as they come. Her curiosity’s gonna get her killed if she’s not careful.”

Alberta nodded, tugging off her other boot.

“Well, I gotta get going, too. Take care.”

Alberta finished getting dressed without interruption. She hadn’t worn her old suit in almost a year and it felt strange. The flippers on her feet made her feet itch and the oxygen tank was uncomfortably heavy. Shutting her locker with a clang, Alberta flopped her way outside, leaning forward and grasping the rail to pull herself forward. Reaching the ladder, she let herself down. Placing her mouthpiece, she took a sample breath. Satisfied with the mixture, she pulled on her facemask and entered the water.

By herself, the swim to the observatory was long, and lonesome. The water was rough, the undertow trying to drag her back toward the Harbor Guard post. She pushed on relentlessly, thankful for the lights of the observatory, yet almost wishing there weren’t any, as they seemed to be getting closer at a phenomenally slow rate. The lights of the harbor behind her dimming, the observatory’s bubble-domed top began to emerge from the cloudy water and haze.

Glancing upward, Alberta paused to watch a school of brilliantly-colored fish swim by. For a second, a brief instant only, she could forget why she was there. She could almost imagine -- but she couldn't. Focus! she told herself bitterly. Nevertheless, she followed the movement of the fish as she swam on, noticing that their destination seemed to be the massive coral reef just south of the harbor.

A few feet from the observatory, circling to the entrance, Alberta found herself flipped over by a shove in the small of her back. The dark eyes of a dolphin stared at her. Instead of the usual sleek, gray side, his was scarred, and there was a ragged chunk missing from his dorsal fin. The look he gave her was hardly reassuring. They stared at each other for a moment, each taking the other's measure. Wary and untrusting, they agreed to a silent truce. Mike paced her as she swam, heading up to the surface to breathe when she entered the observatory.

The hours passed slowly for the mariner. Just as Bertie had said, there was a lot of outbound traffic, but few problems, and none that couldn’t be handled from inside. She called in every few hours to report, listening with one ear to the continuous weather report, the other to the harbor’s radio communications. She slept as time permitted her, going outside for a swim to loosen stiff muscles.

As the harbor shut down, the noise between the harbor and the last vessel, the transport Miami Belle, increased. Alberta heard the Harbor Guard Chief’s voice on the broadcast, telling the Belle’s captain to ship off. Still, they stalled, until the hurricane was almost upon them.
Sensing trouble, Alberta strapped on her gear, and an extra tank, and called in Mike. The scarred dolphin did not want to wear the specialized scuba gear, but clearly he was under orders to obey and though he grumbled, he held still for the fitting. Alberta fastened on the emergency gear and the extra tanks, double-checking the safety harnesses which would carry any survivors to safety. Her hands trembled and her heart beat loudly in her chest as she fastened the last clasps. The coldness in her heart cut like a knife, but she resolutely pushed it aside. She had work to do.

Outside, Alberta grabbed Mike’s fin and they streaked toward where the transport was finally beginning its slow way out of the harbor. Over her headset, Alberta heard the harbor telling the Belle to go faster, never mind the rules, and she frowned in worry. Mike streaked ahead of the massive underwater plane, not needing directing, while Alberta glanced anxiously from the churning water above to the dawdling transport. Mentally, along with the weather broadcast, she counted down the minutes. Just as she was about to heave a sigh of relief, a mayday cut through the weather.

“Mayday, mayday!” came a young voice Alberta didn’t recognize (Must be Anka, she reasoned). “Downed aircraft! Repeat: there is an aircraft, falling, out of control, in sector eight by six. Mayday, mayday!” and the message repeated.

Well, Alberta thought, at least she’s got the jargon down. Wait! her tired mind screamed, Eight by six??

Mike put on a sudden burst of speed, almost pulling away. They sped to the front of the transport, and Alberta frantically tried to signal the crew. But, somehow, the crew of the Miami Belle did not see, and they continued to put on more speed.

Oh, no! Alberta thought, and she stared worriedly up at the roiling ocean waves above. Hurry up, she thought at the transport, go faster!

Mike spun her around, away from the transport, hearing something. They darted to the transport’s other side, and Mike squealed angrily. There, jetting away from the coral reef sped a small craft, obviously trying to intercept the transport.

I don’t believe this! Alberta thought furiously, poachers! No wonder that transport didn’t want to leave! She turned back to the Miami Belle, trying to get their attention, waving, and mentally shouting at them to leave, but, what was that? Were they slowing?

Over her headset came a frantic voice, hailing the transport. “Miami Belle, Miami Belle, you must increase your speed! There is an incoming aircraft at your position! Miami Belle, Miami Belle, please respond!”

The past and the present seemed to collide for Alberta, taking her back to a moment, almost a year before, when a standard evacuation went terribly wrong. Around her, metal screamed in agony, the hull of the ship being torn apart before her eyes. A billowing, oily, black cloud erupted to the stern, the enraged water hurling her toward the wreckage.

With a scream, a bolt of silver struck her in the side, flinging her away. “No!” Alberta screamed through a mouthful of water. The dolphin Bellah, her partner and best friend of ten years was sucked to the debris instead, sliced to ribbons as the razor-sharp metal twisted in upon itself. Flung with bone-breaking force against the sea-bottom, Alberta fell unconscious, already beginning to drown.

With a thud as she hit the transport’s smooth hull, Alberta snapped out of her reverie. Mike gave her an inscrutable look, then turned away toward the smaller craft. Alberta shook her head, refocusing on the job at hand. She had only seconds, she knew, before the aircraft hit water, and rammed the ship. Desperately, she swam toward the front of the transport. Reaching the front view screen, she pounded on the thick plexiglas, trying to attract the attention of the crew inside. Finally, through the glare, she saw someone glance at her. She pointed to her headset frantically, then motioned for them to continue, to move, to get out of the way!

Apparently, they heard, and understood, for the Miami Belle suddenly put on a burst of speed that knocked Alberta aside as if she were no more than krill. Annoyed, but relieved, she hurriedly swam aside, away from the treacherous wake. Mike had successfully distracted the smaller vessel, which was streaking off in another direction. She cursed silently, but had no more time as the aircraft slammed into the sea.

The impact sent Alberta tumbling. She nearly lost her mouthpiece as she scrambled to slow and steady her flight. She fought to swim to the plane, but the raging hurricane was now upon them and the water was filled with algae, plants, bits of shell and bone and coral that ripped her suit and unprotected hands. Suddenly, Mike was back by her side, his nose pushing forward. They whirled together, Alberta hanging onto the dolphin and praying.

A large crash of the surf cleared the water momentarily and Alberta got a clear look at the downed aircraft. The impact had torn off the wings and the nose was pointed to the bottom. She could see no life pods.

With Mike pushing from behind, she approached, grabbing a steady hold as the waves slammed her around, pummeling the aircraft unmercifully. There was a shriek of tearing metal and Alberta took in a sudden, involuntary breath, remembering. Then Mike was back by her side and she became conscious of a pounding on the other side of the emergency door she clung to.

Alberta grabbed the emergency cutter with its diamond tip. She held it against the doorframe, holding on despite the crazy movement of the craft. Finally, she cut through and the door flew off, ripped from its hinges. The pressure hauled out the four frightened passengers, throwing them into the dangerous water. Alberta managed to grab an arm, Mike finned after the others. Taking a deep breath, Alberta pressed her mouthpiece to the man’s mouth. He sucked in the welcome air in vast gulps, fighting as Alberta took back the mouthpiece. She took a deep breath, and then passed it back.

They spent long, agonizing minutes, clinging to the side of the wrecked aircraft before Mike returned, two survivors clinging to his harness. Alberta grabbed the harness as Mike paused beside her, hooking her survivor to it and pressing a mouthpiece to his mouth.

Alberta checked the gauges as Mike swam slowly away. He’ll never last, she thought, not with three passengers. She would just have to search for the other one alone. She pulled herself to his head, by an eye, and gave the signal for ‘retreat.’ Mike stared at her a moment. She gave the command again. Bellah, she thought with a pang, would know what to do. She repeated the gesture, pointing to her tank, then back at his gear. He held her gaze for a moment longer and almost, it seemed, an understanding entered that look. Imperceptibly, the dolphin nodded. Alberta let go, and he swam off, heading directly toward the observatory, his dolphin senses unerringly leading the way.

The remains of the splintering aircraft slammed into the ocean bottom, debris billowing up as slashing, perilous, life-threatening shards. One blade sent Alberta flying, and the swirling, torrent of water yanked her sideways, then up in a dizzying circle. She swam as hard and as furiously as she could, but the agonies suffered a year ago came back and she heard again the screaming of the metal, saw Bellah, saw – she blinked. Was that a leg?

Before she could think, before she could react, Alberta was swimming again. She struck after the human leg she’d seen, oblivious to the current raging around her, oblivious of the objects pulled up out of the ocean’s depths. She found the man by the color of his coveralls, grabbing his ankle, and feeling her way to a proper hold. Turning, she tried to swim to the observatory and found she had entirely lost her way. She fought down the raw knot of panic, and felt for her emergency beacon.

It’s our only chance, she thought, I can only hope they can reach us in time. She yanked the cord . . . And it came off in her hand!

Alberta swallowed, her throat seeming to constrict. Staring down at the man she clung to, she forced herself to breathe. Her breath shuddered in her lungs, and she forced her eyes to focus. Time seemed suspended as she stared into the face of the young man. He was barely, a man, too young to die, and certainly not like this.

Realizing she’d let herself drift, Alberta began to kick. She kicked hard, until she thought her legs might fall off, and still she struggled up, up to that dim grayness that held hope of life. She blacked out for a second, maybe two, her mind spinning dizzily. She recognized the beeping instantly: she was running out of air. Still she forged on, fighting against nausea, fighting against exhaustion, fighting against time.

A whistle jerked Alberta awake. She stared groggily into the dark sea. Slowly, a gray, streamlined shape took form. It hovered, just out of reach.

Bellah? she thought. Bellah? Please let it be you, please let it all have been a dream. Bellah? Bellah, where are you going? Bellah, come back!

Forgetting trying to reach the surface, Alberta struck after the disappearing form of her best friend in the world. She swam faster, harder, better than she’d ever done. She willed herself forward, forgetting the ache in her legs and lungs, forgetting the incessant beeping, forgetting her heavy burden. She swam, and swimming became all that she knew. She forgot the waves, forgot the hurricane, forgot everything. Only one thing remained: swim. And so she went.

At last, Bellah stopped. She approached instead of retreated. She looked at Alberta and smiled, smiled as only a dolphin can, smiled, and flicked her tail, and vanished. In her place came a hard, steel bullet, buffeted by the current and waves. Forward it came, sweeping Alberta and her burden to safety. But the mariner knew nothing of this. In her mind’s eye, Bellah remained, smiling.