Both Dylan and Logan fell in behind Clay as they moved back away from the ruins. Neither of them missed the significance of them moving away from where they believed the trench to be.

Clay had something else on his mind and the trench no longer was that interesting. They had to return to get more and better pictures of the ruins and the Scorpion would make it a lot easier to get a look at the trench.

Logan's camera hung at his side as Clay moved up beside Bill. It was the far side of the same reef he'd been photographing for weeks. He'd look for a level spot where he could photograph the back of the reef. It wouldn't take long. There were differences he could see between the two sides, but not a big difference and not a difference that he or movie goers could easily see.

Bill was pointing out a tiny fish to Clay as soon as he came into Bill's peripheral vision. Clay moved to get a closer look, nodding and in a second Clay had it in the specimen bottles he carried. It was an instinctive move to collect a tiny version of a species they'd already cataloged. It could have been a miniature or just a young fish.

It was something Clay knew all about before the ruins entered the picture. Their underwater work would continue on the backside of the reef now that they'd gone back there. Bill was digging carefully around a plant he wanted to add to his collection.

Clay suddenly looked at his watch. Where was Dylan. He turned to see Logan two dozen yards away, his camera now mounted on the familiar tripod he used when the action was all in one spot. The filmmaker's face was in the viewfinder.

As Clay watched Logan, Dylan appeared over the filmmaker's right shoulder. He'd been out beyond where Logan was. He carried his camera in both hands. He was moving toward the reef.

If they'd been on land, Clay would have asked the question. Dylan knew better than to go off alone, even if he didn't go far. The bottom of the Pacific Ocean was nowhere to wander around.

How'd Clay know where to look if he was off wandering around?

There was only an instant for Clay to wonder, when he was pointing at his dive watch. Dylan automatically looked at his. He was down to five minutes of air and a five-minute reserve. It was cutting it close, but he'd cut it a lot closer and his father hadn't noticed. Dylan wasn't a child and it wasn't likely he'd ever run out of air while underwater. Everything was under control in a place like this.

Bill handed Dylan the specimen pouch as he put another plant in it. Bill knew what time it was and Dylan would carry the first specimen bag with him to the service in another five minutes. Clay smiled at his son as he let his camera hang to one side to take the pouch.

This was a scene that played itself out a dozen times over the past few weeks. Clay's son was right in the middle of the summer's research and a black shadow starting its dive from above hardly registered on Clay's danger radar.

This shark seemed to be alone as he dove toward the objects on the backside of the reef. By the time Clay looked up, the shark was reaching the top of the structure where they worked. Just then it interrupted its dive to maneuver itself along the top of the reef in a menacing sweeping motion that carried him away from them.

Clay gave a sudden yanked Bill's arm, looking up at the shark as he did it. Bill followed the angle of Clay's face mask. As Dylan stood unaware, holding open the specimen sack.

Clay jerked his son toward a spot in front of him and low down around where his legs were.

Dylan resisted and realized his father wasn't pushing him around for no purpose. He went where his father wanted him. It was a space just large enough to contain him.

Clay lost sight of the shark for the instant it took to get Dylan in the crevice that was big enough to hold him if he didn't mind his camera being trapped under his arm. He didn't have much choice and he couldn't see around his father's legs. He couldn't see what was going on.

The shark moved along the top of the reef toward the breach before sweeping around to reappear above where Bill stood with his back pressed hard against the coral.

Clay assumed a similar posture, trying to become one with the reef. He didn't dare move as the shark took a dive right past him before it shot out into the open space between them and Logan.

For an instant Clay felt like he might be the shark's lunch, until the predator passed him up to swim away from the reef. He'd braced himself for the hit that didn't come. He opened his eyes to watch the shark swim into the space between the reef and Logan.

His first thought was to be sure to block Dylan's view. Watching their friend eaten by a shark was not an appealing prospect. It was something he'd never allow Dylan to see if it could be avoided.

The danger to him came and went in a flash.

Clay didn't know that he wouldn't be the shark's lunch until he looked at Logan standing in the open face down in the viewfinder. He had not seen the shark yet. In a frantic panic he did the only thing he could think of to do.

Clay blew bubbles loudly to get Logan to look up. Once he'd done it, he calculated, I just made Logan look up to see himself about to be devoured by one of the water's most efficient predators.

What are friends for after all, Clay thought

As the shark reached Logan, and he was on a collision course. Logan fell to his left. The tripod and the camera shook in the wake of the close call. Clay was not absolutely certain Logan wasn't bitten, but there was no blood and it looked more like the shark brushed the photographer as it passed quite close to him.

Clay looked down at Dylan. He'd turned his back and his legs kept Dylan from moving. Clay looked at his watch. In two minutes Dylan's air would switch to his five minute reserve.

Clay was immediately calculating how they'd surface using only his air. That's when his thoughts got back to Logan.

The shark already made his first pass on Logan. As he fell, Logan curled himself into a ball. His air tanks became his most prominent feature. Clay decided that it might work as he watched the shark in its sweeping motion as he moved away from them.

Then he was coming back toward them.

It was the professor's turn to check his watch. When Dylan held the pouch open for Bill to put specimens in, it was close to the time when Dylan had to surface. His single tank lasted less than an hour and that hour was running out.

Bill put his hand on Clay's arm, pointing to his watch.

Clay nodded. He knew his son was running out of air.

Dylan's air tank automatically went on reserve. It didn't make a sound. He didn't need to do a thing but curse his father for keeping him pinned to the reef.

He had no idea he was using his air up twice as fast with the temper tantrum that was trapped inside him as he felt helpless.

Just then Clay cursed himself for not insisting Dylan have two air tanks like everyone else. His desire to control his sons time underwater now had them in a fix. Once again he ran through his mind the technique he'd use to get Dylan safely to the surface, once the danger passed. If the danger passed.

The shark went over top of Logan, not forgetting about him yet, and then he was on Clay and shooting up to the top of the reef to swim along the top toward the breach another time.

Sweat was now running down Clay's face. In the next couple of minute they'd need to move. As quick as Dylan ran out of air, he'd start to panic. Clay couldn't allow that to happen. He'd have his mouthpiece out and in Dylan's face. He'd show Dylan what he wanted. Dylan would breathe for ten seconds, hand the mouthpiece back to Clay for him to breathe. That's how they'd get to the surface, shark or no shark.

There would be no choice once Dylan ran out of air. They'd need to risk it. There was always a chance the shark wouldn't notice them.

Clay had been scared before. Fear came and went fast underwater. He'd never run out of air. He'd never shared air to get someone to the surface who ran out of air. He cursed himself again.

Clay looked at Bill. The schoolmaster was none the worse for wear. He'd been here before. He'd encountered a hundred sharks over the years. He still had all his arms and legs. As Clay looked for Logan, he received another blow to the plan he had carefully worked out.

More sharks. There were two very large sharks that just then came into his peripheral vision. They were diving one behind the other. It was a flash of awareness he didn't see clearly, but the danger had just increased ten fold. This was not in his plan.

As the first marauding shark swam back down the front of the reef and out toward Logan, one of the diving sharks above came straight at them. They were just shadows. Just large sea creatures it was impossible to identify under those circumstances, but Clay felt the first collision and then the next, almost simultaneous concussions.

He was confused. What was happening? Sharks attacking each other? There was something wrong with that picture.

Clay almost immediately understood his mistake. These weren't sharks. They were porpoises. Two very large porpoises attacked the shark and while that thought passed through his head, there were two more very distinctive collisions.

The shark now floated motionless toward the breach. The two attacking porpoises were high in the water. They'd become motionless as they watched the shark for any sign of movement.

Clay saw the second pair of collisions. The porpoises, one at a time, swam directly at the shark at full speed. They used their nose as a battering ram to stun and perhaps killed this dangerous predator.

Clay had heard of it. He never thought he'd see such a thing.

The shark continued to float a hundred feet away. There was no sign of life as the porpoises gave up their lofty perch to swim closer to the bottom and the research team they rescued.

It was then that Clay made another discovery. It was Tangle. Swimming in tandem with his new mate, Tangle swam past him. Clay recognized Tangle's distinctive markings.

Bill was grabbing Clay's arm, pointing to the obvious markings on Tangle the net left on him near his eye ad around his dorsal. Clay nodded.

It was too soon to feel anything. Too much had taken place in too short a period to process it. Clay had other concerns. He let Dylan out of the crevice. His son wasn't happy but the sudden sound of someone struggling to get air was distinctive. It didn't take a scientist to know what that sound was.

At the same instant Clay looked at his watch, he heard Dylan's second gasp. By this time Clay already had his mouthpiece out where Dylan could see it. Clay removed Dylan's mouthpiece, replacing it with his. Dylan took a deep breath. The sound was reassuring to his father. Clay put his hand up for Dylan to stop breathing. He took the mouthpiece to breathe for a few seconds. He handed it back to Dylan. Once they'd established their timing, they pushed off the bottom together. His son's eyes were big as saucers when his air ran out, but by the time they started to surface, Dylan was back to normal. He showed no signs of fear.

Dylan trusted his father to take care of him. Clay always had. There was nothing to fear.

Clay saw Logan was up and Bill was moving toward him. After that, his attention was on the surface. It wasn't far above them and using one air supply was no big deal.

They should have practiced this technique at least once.

Funny how clear things become when an emergency happens. Clay should have done a lot of things and didn't.

What would he do if something happened to his son?

He made up his mind, nothing was going to happen to Dylan.

Clay simply would not allow it.

He hugged his son closely after they broke the surface.

"What's wrong, Dad? I'm fine," Dylan said.

Clay had pushed his mask up on his forehead as he always did once he surfaced. The tears were running down his cheeks.

Clay couldn't speak.

He shook his head, hugging his son.

He had to be the luckiest man in the world.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

Captain Hertzog stood on the catwalk watching Clay and Dylan return together. He knew something was wrong right away. They never came back together. Clay never came back without Bill or Logan, if they were diving together.

Dylan often came back first because he only had one tank of air.

The other thing Captain Hertzog noticed, neither said a word to the other. There was usually a lot of chatter after most dives.

Clay climbed on deck with his specimen pouch in his hand. He'd left his wet suit on the platform. Dylan followed him onto the deck carrying a specimen pouch and his camera.

Their wetsuits stayed on the platform. Captain Hertzog wondered what happened down there to change their behavior.

Clay and Dylan didn't look up and no words were exchanged before the father and son disappeared into the inside passageway.

Dylan sat shivering with a cup of coffee held in both hands. He was cold. He rarely felt anything after a dive, but he was freezing cold. He sipped coffee and took heat from the cup.

Clay had gotten both of them a cup of coffee and he did something he never did in the galley, he took everything out of the specimen bag. He lined up the five pieces of stones and he drank coffee and looked at each one.

There was nothing to say.

Captain Hertzog came into the galley.

He started to speak and then stopped when he saw the stones.

"You knew what was behind the reef all the time," Clay immediately knew.

Klaus Hertzog could have lied but he knew Clay would see right through him. He'd seen the suspicion in Clay's eyes when he looked his way in the past week.

Dylan looked at the captain and then at his father.

"Why not just tell us?" Clay asked.

"I work for Sinclair Group. They have an interest in Bill's search."

"Sinclair knew about the ruins. That's why he was here," Clay calculated.

"I am not allowed to comment on what Mr. Sinclair did or didn't do. Bill was never supposed to have that map. Someone got fired over that mistake. Those sites were all sites Mr. Sinclair had an interest in. I didn't know what his interests were then and I don't know now. I steered his ship but I did see and hear things," Captain Hertzog said. "I came to ask what happened. You look like death warmed over."

"Sharks," Clay said. "We're OK. Logan came close but I think he's OK. They won't be long," Clay said.

"Glad to hear that," Captain Hertzog said. "Bill's a fine man. I will give him all the help it's within my power to give him, but there are things I won't talk about. Needless to say, I was put in charge of seeing that Bill's use of that map didn't get him in trouble."

"I like you, Captain Hertzog. I don't trust you," Clay said, being as honest as he knew how to be.

Captain Hertzog laughed loudly.

"You didn't need to say the words. Your suspicion is written all over your face, Clay," he said. "I'll say again, I'm here to give Bill all the help I can. There are places I can't take him. There are things I'm not allowed to do."

"Because of the Sinclair Group?" Clay asked.

"Precisely. I'll leave you two to relax. If there's anything I can do, I'm at your service," Captain Hertzog said with a bow.

The ship's captain left the galley.

"Can you tell me what that was all about, Dad," Dylan said.

"Just clearing the air, Dylan."

"You going to tell, Bill?" Dylan asked.

"No, Bill is a big boy. He knows the captain way longer than I have. I doubt I've discovered anything Bill doesn't already know."

It took another five minutes for Bill to appear in the galley door and Logan followed him inside.

Bill examined the stones one by one, putting each back on the table after looking it over. By that time Logan was sitting beside Dylan, facing Bill and Clay.

No one had anything to say. They'd shared something. They weren't sure what. He looked at the stones. He didn't touch one.

The afternoon dive was canceled. There were two more days on this site and on the afternoon of the third day, the Horizon would haul in its anchor and head for Guam.

"Bill says Tangle pulled my fat out of the fire," Logan said.

"You're asking if it was Tangle that attacked that shark? It was Tangle. He has markings from the net he was tangled in. He swam within a few feet of me. He had those markings," Clay said.

"He's been waiting around to save my ass?" Logan asked without conviction. "Surely you don't believe that."

"Who knows what goes on inside a porpoise's mind. He may not have been hanging around to save you, but he did save you from the shark. We don't know the shark would have eaten you. Not all of you," Clay said with a smile. "Tangle made sure it didn't happen."

"You did more to save Tangle than I did," Logan said.

"The shark wasn't about to eat me," Clay said.

"I've thought about that," Bill said. "Clay arrived second on the scene. You were there first. You struggled without much success, but you stayed with him. Clay came and untangled him. He was assisting you in getting done what you were trying to do."

"There you go. I was your assistant," Clay said.

Logan laughed.

"We know that porpoise would be done now if you didn't decide to help me save him," Logan said.

"We can't expect a porpoise to reason that out. Not yet, anyway," Clay said. "It's beyond our ability to reason. We don't know why what happened just happened."

"Do porpoises attack sharks?" Logan asked.

"They do if the pod's in danger from the shark," Bill said. "They feed beside each other. They aren't enemies but a porpoise will protect his own."

Logan knew there were no answers and Tangle wasn't talking. Being that close to a shark was not one of his favorite things. He didn't know how close he came, because he spent most of the time rolled up into a tiny ball. As tiny as he could make himself with two huge air tanks on his back.

"You're going to ask me to take the pod down there, Clayton."

"Have we no secrets at all?" Clay asked.

"I know you, Clayton Olson. I may be able to walk away without ever seeing what's down there, but you can't. I suppose it's my duty as a scientist to make note of its presence. Whatever it is ... or was."

"Sinclair was here because of whatever it is. You weren't supposed to have that map you've got. He didn't leave it as a design for your research work. I bet there is something at every place marked on that map that has nothing to do with marine biology."

"You talked to Klaus," Bill said.

"You knew those ruins were back there?"

"Didn't know. Suspected something was there," Bill said. "Klaus has a way of letting me know when there is something he can't talk about. The map being one of those. The man left me the means to accomplish something, Clayton. I'm not going to judge the man's motives. I prefer to believe he wanted to make up for some of the damage he did. John Sinclair was a ruthless man, but he did have a heart inside him somewhere. That's the part of him I will honor. All men who decide to do evil should have at least one opportunity to do some good. If I'm the tool it is done through, so be it."

"I'm just a guy shooting film. Why do I feel like the real story has nothing to do with marine biology?" Logan asked.

"Like with Tangle, we'll never know what was on John Sinclair's mind when he dreamed up the Horizon.

"He didn't dream you up, Bill. I didn't either. You've given me a lot to think about over the years but right now, today, I want another cup of coffee, followed by a long hot shower, and I want to lie down and maybe never get up," Clay said.

"I know that feeling. I'm having that feeling too," Logan said.

There were hugs all around once the four of them stood up. No one started the hugging and no one left before it was done.

It had been a long day and it wasn't eleven yet.


Send Rick an email at quillswritersrealm@yahoo.com

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