Ch 19 - Bedlam in the Bay

Back on the Sazinge, it was close to noon when

we entered the docks to anchor. Waiting for us in front of

the condominium was Baruti, with his arms crossed, his

legs spread wide apart, and a look that teased our

captain. Dropping anchor, I made sure not to get

involved in what would happen next. While I was still

securing the moorings, Jacob Keene jumped ashore and

greeted our host:

— Baruti! How do you do? That boat of yours

has some incredible power, boy! — Approaching

without taking his eyes off Keene, Elya came pretty

close, as if to intimidate the man who was a few inches

taller than he was. In a tone of restrained anger, he

replied:

— And you still have the nerve to make jokes

after you stole my boat?

— You know, young man, when I said "your

boat", I was following the education I was given. After

all, this boat belongs to the cretins who employ you; if

anyone is going to sue me, it should be one of them. In

fact, not even this condominium will belong to you for

much longer. — With a puzzled expression, Elya asked:

— What do you mean?

— I mean that a species once considered extinct

has found refuge in the lagoon, which happens to have a

connection to the river, whose banks you have taken

over. Your construction thus becomes illegal. Baruti

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Elya, your project ends here. — Keene finished these

words while looking haughtily at Elya as if each man

represented his respective side in the discussion. Lucy

and I had remained on the dock and were watching the

scene with apprehension. The man to whom the

threatening speech was addressed stared at Keene for a

few moments.

— You think you're quite powerful, don't you? —

he asked in a threatening tone. — Simply because you

have money. If it weren't for that power, I bet you'd be

crying in a corner like a little boy.

— Listen here! — Keene was visibly offended,

but he pulled himself together before something

thoughtless left his lips. — Show some civility, — said

the voice that now sounded calm and restrained, as if all

the anger instincts had been washed away in a single

instant. — We will continue with our animal operations.

We found out in Port St. John that the animals are

developing well there. Unfortunately, we know this

because an adult was successfully caught on a

fisherman's longline. Now excuse me, we have a lot of

your dirt to clean up.

Saying this, Keene withdrew from Elya's

presence, missing his glove slap, which Jacob would

surely like to deliver. Elya looked back at us with an

expression of disgust, which only increased when he

focused his eyes on Lucy. We felt that we were now

traitors as if we had slighted his hospitality by

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supporting Keene in the research. Little did he know that

this was not really an option.

With our heads down, we followed Keene to the

rental car and sat, still feeling all the weight on our

shoulders. Keene's movements were agile; he knew

precisely what he would do next. Shifting into gear,

Keene pulled away, passing in front of the condominium

and within inches of Elya. I couldn't tell if his expression

had changed when we passed again because I kept

looking down. Driving at high speed through the woods,

we would return to the pond where the original sighting

had occurred.

⬫⬫⬫

— And that's the point, Mr. Etiename. — That

was the only part that had been said in English. All the

rest of the speech had been given in isiXhosa, the

language spoken locally. Keene had spoken at length,

while the old man listened attentively, without any

reaction whatsoever. Leaning on his wooden stick, the

old man's skin was already sticking to his bones and he

spoke very little, which was not a habit caused by old

age, but by wisdom. From inside the circular hut we

were now in, it was possible to observe the waves that

were gently coming to finish their strength on the sand.

Using an interpreter, the old man gave us permission for

the operation that Keene had outlined, using a few words

that were translated into many by the man who spoke for

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him. Translated into our language, they conveyed the

idea of an entire community that would come together to

defend nature, as it was meant to be. Emotional, Keene

knelt before the old man and thanked him, an attitude

that Lucy and I imitated, although we did not know

whether the act would be well received. As I bent over to

fall to the ground, I looked at Lucy, seeking her advice as

to the local culture, but she shrugged her shoulders,

maintaining the same confused expression I had on my

face. Apparently, not even Lucy's acumen could prepare

someone for something as unpredictable as Keene's

ideas. If the act was unusual, it wasn't frowned upon

either, because we left the tent with our heads still on top

of our necks.

— What is this plan that you have outlined, Dr.

Keene? — Lucy asked.

— Well, you don't think that the three of us alone

would be able to take care of all the nests, do you? These

good people will be on our side now. Fortunately, they

don't feel hatred for animals just because one of their

own was attacked and killed by the creature.

— He wasn't exactly attacked, Doc, — I

pondered.

— What matters, Kevin, is that we have an even

bigger team now. We just need to find out why the

animals have taken refuge in the freshwater.

— How about we start with Bluewater Bay? —

Lucy asked in a strangely natural tone.

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— Bluewater Bay? And why there, precisely? —

Jacob questioned.

— Because it's the largest city nearby; all the

information flows into the big city, doesn't it?

— Yeah...maybe that's a good idea after all.

Saying this, Keene walked away to talk to the

interpreter we had seen earlier; something about how

much authority he would have in the operation. Seizing

the opportunity, I was tempted to ask:

— What is the motive; the real one, this time? —

Without taking her eyes off the dialogue we were

witnessing, she replied:

— I overheard Elya's ex-employees talking about

some middlemen who were meeting him on the coast,

bringing supplies. Rumor has it they were coming from

Bluewater Bay.

— So, while Keene investigates his own

mystery…

— We investigate ours.

— I never thought I'd have to deal with humans

while researching cryptids, you know?

— Stop grumbling, — Lucy complained as she

laughed, — You sound just like Dr. Keene!

That painful comparison is enough to shut

anyone up, and that's what I did. No, I couldn't be

compared to Jacob, that's obvious. The discussion about

authority was raging just a few steps away, and that is

something I would never do. Finally, one side emerged

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victorious and I am sure it was not Keene's, because he

was leading us back to the car with the same expression

of frustration he had when we stopped him at the airport

exit.

As he was already taking a few minutes just

looking through the windshield on the grass surrounding

the village, we decided to introduce the subject of the

trip.

— There are a few gas stations along the

alternative route, — I commented.

— Alternative? — Keene sounded offended,

finally coming out of his shock.

— Yeah, Doctor, — Lucy elaborated. — You

don't expect us to pass by the condominium again on the

way to Bluewater Bay, do you?

— And why wouldn't we? That Elya guy is in

trouble with the law, not me!

— Explain that to his pistol, — Lucy concluded.

Keene's eyes widened and he stared at her, terrorized by

the concept that anyone could be so animalistic. Raising

his hand to his chest in the most affected manner, he

finished with a dry throat:

— Well then, let's take said route, then.

With a discreet smile, Lucy celebrated yet

another successful manipulation.

⬫⬫⬫

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Following the R63, our trip took seven and a half

hours and covered more than 550 km along a virtually

straight path between the Hluleka nature reserve and the

Bay. It first passed through semi-desert plains

interspersed with green fields and plantations, as well as

mankind's most diabolical creation — the game reserve.

After this endless torture, one arrived at the great city of

Bluewater Bay, whose waters did not belie its name,

maintaining the dazzling blue hue that the ocean still

retains in certain places. Around the rocks that rose up

like islands in the ocean, the rolling waves changed to

the black tone of the deep waters, full of nutrients. Our

first stop was a hotel recommended by every hiker we

met on the way. Appropriately enough, the place was

called the Ammonite Hotel, the name given to the

spiral-shelled mollusks that inhabited the prehistoric

oceans. At the reception desk, we could sense glances

condemning the pitiful state our hair was in after the

expedition. To our worst pain, Keene had bathed and

combed his hair one last time before we left the condo,

and his appearance contrasted with ours. Acting like the

father of two teenagers who had sandboarded the dunes

and fallen face first, Jacob mimicked the looks of the

other guests, standing apart as superior. The hotel staff

then rushed us to our room, as if we were an

embarrassment on display at the front desk, and in a way,

we agreed with this. Forced to get into the elevator so

that we would not be seen on the stairs, we were sent to

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the room that Jacob was renting at the front desk, five

floors below us and, we were rushed again, this time into

the room. Already knowing that we would have no

money like the man he thought was in charge of us, the

waiter did not wait for us to tip him and, after putting our

bags on the floor, disappeared into the corridor as if he

had become one with the ether. Each in turn, we bathed,

ridding ourselves of the burden that was dirt and fatigue.

When I left the bathroom, Lucy was already emptying

the bowl of fruit left by the maid. Biting into a mango, I

asked what our next step would be.

— We're going to the port, — she answered in a

mysterious tone. — We need to find out what this Elya

dude is transporting to Hluleka.

— Tell me that we will at least rest tonight.

— Didn't you get enough rest on the way?

My expression in reply was one of despondency,

thinking about facing another night of sleep deprivation.

With a laugh, she broke the seriousness from her face

and continued:

— Of course we are going to rest. I myself

couldn't stand another night awake. Besides, you don't

rent a room to spend the night out of it. — The comment

reminded me of the man who was also paying this cost

for us.

— Do you think Jacob will accept the fact that

we are going to have another operation without him? —

I asked.

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— Jacob is only interested in animals and it's

humans we'll be dealing with; not really his thing.

— Nothing seems to be Keene's

thing...Sometimes I wonder why he treats us well.

— You still don't get it, do you? — Her

expression was darker now.

— Get what?

At that moment Keene opened the door, pushing

his way with an elbow and showing us his arms, where

he was hanging clothes that smelled of new fabric and

materialism.

— Hello, children! — he shouted as he entered

the room. — I bought some new clothes so that the

manager won't have you deported.

Looking at ourselves, it made sense to change

our garments. The shower did little good if we kept

wearing the same dirty clothes. With the items Jacob had

bought, it would now be easier to camouflage ourselves

among the Bluewater Bay crowd.

The night went by quietly, with the heavy sleep

imposed by the tiredness that travel had caused us. It was

then late in the morning when we woke up. There were

our two smaller beds in parallel and one larger bed; as is

the idealized form of a family. In our colorful outfits, we

got up and, after morning hygiene, went down to the

hall, to leave the Ammonite Hotel. Behind us, we heard

a call, coming from the little tables in the restaurant,

which was now serving coffee to its late guests. Among

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the few who were still enjoying their eggs and bacon, we

recognized the voice coming from our tour companion.

The similarity of the breakfast served there to that in his

homeland had finally pleased Keene, who now looked

exuberant as he finished his cup of tea.

— What a splendid place, I say! — he declared

fervently. — Look how carefully they treat every

ingredient, from the toast to the tomatoes and even the

morcilla. Lovely! — What Jacob didn't realize, however,

was that his culture had affected the one that now

surrounded us, and by "affected" here we mean

"destroyed".

— It's great to see you happy after all, Doctor, —

Lucy hurried to end the conversation. — We have to go,

but you should order another cup of tea. — Saying this,

she pulled me by the long sleeve of the local robe and

gently dragged me outside. Keene kept a smile on his

lips and an intelligent look as if he knew what we

planned to do.

Outside, Lucy looked back one last time to make

sure he hadn't gotten up. I went to the left, but she pulled

me back to the right.

— This way, — she murmured as if someone

could hear us. — This is the way to the port.

— How exactly are we going to find out what

Baruti brings here?

— We won't; he doesn't bring anything here.

— What?

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— No, Kevin. Elya doesn't bring, but he takes

something.

— How do you know?

— Because the men in the village talked about

provisions arriving every beginning of the month. And

this is precisely the time when the smaller boats are

being loaded with what arrived by ship.

— And what would that be?

— Something that will make Keene smile.

With a closed smile, she gave me a shrewd look

and set off in the direction of the harbor. The city as a

whole was based on the docks, and its economy and

future depended on it. A few meters from any point in

the city and it was possible to reach the ocean. In the

harbor itself, the already boxed and strapped cargoes

were lifted by hand, and dozens of men were involved in

the task, carrying the heavy wooden crates while two or

three superiors shouted unintelligible commands. We

walked for a while through the streets that surrounded

the bustle of the wharf, before planning our next move.

Finally, we ducked behind a crate and Lucy told me her

plan.

⬫⬫⬫

Jacob Keene was now finishing his second cup of

black tea. What a wonderful idea the girl had had — to

order another cup! But anyway, time to get to work.

These young people…They think their elders are

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slow-witted turtles who don't understand their plans. It

was obvious that they were snooping around the harbor,

trying to find out what Elya was doing. Better that way.

Maybe they would find something useful to throw the

bandit in prison for a few years, while the poor

Leptocleidus were saved from his clutches. Besides,

working alone was more pleasant and elegant. Walking

through the streets towards the ocean, Keene cast a

curious glance at a crate in the harbor. Crouched down

near it were two teenagers gesturing while discussing

something. — Incredible camouflage, really, — he

thought with a long sigh. Leave them to their childish

machinations. There are more important things to

discover. Why would those admirable creatures leave

such vast waters for an internal lake? It made no sense.

There were no other massive predators that could

threaten or compete with them, except for the great white

shark, but these were found in greater numbers several

miles away, on Dyer Island. There was another problem,

and he would be the discoverer of what it was. Keene

stopped his step suddenly, remembering the scene he had

seen a few moments ago — Lucy and Kevin. Maybe he

shouldn't think so coldly about the two of them. The

feeling of guilt weighed heavily on his back as he

recalled. Shaking his head to forget, Keene tried to focus

his mind on the next goal — the ocean.

The shore of Bluewater Bay was always covered

with fishermen trying their various strategies in the

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turquoise waters of the bay. Fabulous stingrays and

sawfish had already been caught in those waters, and

now, drunk on board a speedboat or sitting on the pier,

the newcomers were trying their chance at a big prize.

Spotting a local fisherman, Jacob sat down next to him

on the pier, staring into the sun. The man was wearing

beautifully colored clothes, such as he had obtained at a

donation drive for Lucy and Kevin to wear more

decently. Time and again, the fisherman pulled the line

from the water with a whipping motion, always catching

a tiny fish, barely larger than a finger. Whipping the

water again with his line, the man kept quiet, staring at

the tip of his lure. Deciding to speak, at last, Keene

asked in a low tone:

— Tell me something, mate. Is that all there is to

fish in these waters?

Unperturbed, the man replied:

— That's more than I need from these waters.

— But what about the bigger fish? Don't tell me

they all come here to fish for bait like you?

— Look in their boxes. There is nothing there.

They are all tourists with their fiber rods, dreaming of

what no longer exists. As for those who fish from a

boat...they only do it for the booze.

Leaning back, Keene noticed that the man was

right. All the fishermen had very professional rods and

sturdy equipment, but they didn't get a single bite. Those

who dared to lower the hook soon caught the little fish

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left in the sea. Annoyed, they threw the tiny creatures

back into the ocean and increased the proportion of the

equipment again. Could this be possible? All the marine

life had been consumed?

— But what could have had such an impact on

the marine environment? — Keene asked, turning again

to the man. Lifting his frown, the fisherman looked at the

cause of the problem. Jacob understood what he meant.

A trawler was approaching from the horizon, ready to

dock in the harbor after weeks, perhaps months, away.

— Predatory fishing, — concluded the scientist.

Nodding, the man agreed and added:

— You don't find big fish anymore because of

them. Ironically, they themselves no longer find large

schools around here and have to sail long distances to get

anything.

— Do you have any idea of what they catch?

— Absolutely everything. The net does not spare

or choose. Mangrove sharks, groupers, blue rays, loligo

squid... it's all gone.

— Did you say squid?

— Yes. Loligo squids. Some are really small

and...

Without staying to hear the rest, Keene jumped

up and ran, with a plan in mind. The fisherman turned

slowly, just enough to see the man cross the street

carelessly, almost get run over, and then run on. What

was wrong with these tourists?

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— What was wrong with these drivers? — Keene

complained, reaching the other sidewalk in one piece.

Anyway, the important thing was that now he knew what

the reason for the change was and could test his theory.

Stopping at the first fishing store he saw, he went inside

and quickly bought the gear he needed. Now all he had

to do was wait for night to come.

⬫⬫⬫

I was still somewhat nervous. Lucy's plan had

seemed foolproof as she described it, but now I could

feel the sweat dripping down my hands. Rising from

behind the crate, I was ready to put my life on the line

for the Leptocleidus colony. Grabbing the first crate I

saw in front of me, I followed the others to deposit it

where they would. The men around me, as well as their

supervisors, were of different races, cultures, and creeds,

all united by hard work. On the bright side, my reddish

locks would not be noticed in this multicolored

immensity. So I hoped, at least. Following the crowd, I

repeated the process several times to feel safe. The plan

had actually worked! All that was missing now was a

chance to see what was in the crates, but how?

— Hey, you! — The aggressive voice cut through

my thoughts. — What are you doing standing there

holding this load? Get it to the boat!

Without realizing it, I had lost myself in thought

again and stopped walking right in the unloading area,

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with dozens of other workers grumbling behind me,

telling me to get out. Nervousness overtook me and my

hands sweated barrels again, causing the box to almost

slip out of my hands. The supervisor, snapping his

fingers in front of my face, asked again:

— Are you sleeping, boy? — At that moment I

said the first thing that occurred to me:

— Excuse me, sir. I believe this box is going to

Hluleka.

— Oh, really? It must have got mixed up with the

other pile. That is the ship going there, and next to it, the

cargo. Load the boat, boy.

— Yes, sir! — Hurrying to obey before he

suspected anything, I reached the other pile of cargo and

the speedboat that was anchored beside it. Excellent, the

plan had been more than successful. In this other area,

far fewer men were on duty, and after loading the boat

with the lost crate, I set about helping them. Again, I

loaded several crates before taking action, and then,

when the others were looking for more crates, I made

mine fall between the sand slope and the boat, hiding it

from the view of the others. I continued helping with the

work so as not to arouse suspicion, wondering where

Lucy had been all this time. A horn called my attention

then, and, like me, everyone looked at the street in front

of the harbor, where a lunatic was now running across.

That was...?

275

⬫⬫⬫

Jacob Keene had spent the afternoon at the hotel,

waiting for the right moment to act. In the pockets of his

new suit, the perfect material to execute his plan. In the

fishing store, he had met Lucy. What a strange thing that

meeting was…As if they both had something to hide.

With a silly expression of surprise and a compromising

stammer, the two had stared at each other for a few

seconds before something intelligible was said.

— Did you...come to buy a compass, Doctor? —

she had asked.

— Oh, yes, yes, precisely. So that I too can be a

good map reader like you two, eh?

A few faked giggles and she left the store. Why

had she given him such a convincing excuse to be there?

Well, what did it matter? He was ready, and when night

came...Well, look!

On the wall of the Ammonite Hotel, the wooden

clock was now striking 6 o'clock; it was officially night

for Keene. Getting up from his armchair and throwing

the newspaper on the reading table, he left the hotel,

returning to the spot he had visited earlier. There was

now not a single fisherman, because those on the boat

were unconscious, the tourists had become frustrated and

left, and the gentleman who had informed him had

earned his keep and returned home. Perfect.

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From his pocket he took what he had bought

hours before — a flashlight and fishing line on a small

reel, without the rod attached to the equipment. His

experiment consisted in attaching a piece of meat to the

hook, in this case, one of the many small fish the tourists

had left to die on the pier, and covering several spots,

illuminating the water with his flashlight to attract a

squid. Starting at the spot where he stood, he crushed the

little fish, securing a piece on the hook and throwing it

into the water. The lantern shone brightly, and would

certainly have attracted a squid anywhere else in the

world, but not here. Switching points, Keene walked to

the other side of the bay and cast his modest rig. Minutes

of waiting and all he got was a bait chewed up by other

tiny fish. Several locations tested later and the result was

disappointing. Apparently, the man was right, and one of

the main prey in those waters had been practically

extinct. At least the result was conclusive and now he

knew what to do. Perhaps one last try before returning to

the hotel. Wielding the flashlight, he pointed it again at

the ocean and its light illuminated the water.

⬫⬫⬫

The flashlight illuminated the box. Lucy and I

had returned under the safety of night to inspect the

crate, bringing a small LED flashlight with us.

Retrieving the crate required her to hold me by the legs

as I hung over the edge of the slope. Pulling me,

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however, was the hardest part, but fortunately, she has

more strength than I have weight. Now the flashlight

illuminated the box in the warm night. Pulling an object

from her pocket, Lucy revealed a pocket knife she had

been keeping.

— Where did you get this? — I asked, surprised.

— In a fishing store. I bought this and the

flashlight while you were hiding the crate. Jacob was

there too, trying to hide what he was doing. As if we

didn't know that he was going to fish and see what is and

isn't in the water.

— From the fossil record, I'd say he's looking for

squids.

— He sure is.

Sticking the tip of the sharp blade between the lid

and the wall of the box, Lucy forced the structure open.

Lighting it again, we saw that its content was a compact

powder that appeared white in the flashlight.

— So that's it, — Lucy concluded. — Cocaine.

There was no point in taking our discovery to the

authorities. They would not even believe that the cargo

was not ours but that it belonged to a respected engineer.

In a joint effort, we then threw the box away, spilling its

contents into the ocean. We then returned to the

Ammonite, where we were to meet our teammate and do

something about the find.

As we walked through the hotel doors, Keene

spotted us and choked on his tea.

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— Children, you need to hear something! — he

said urgently. In the same tone Lucy spoke up:

— You need to hear something, Doctor!

— Yes, but children, what I have discovered is

more serious!

— It's terrible, Doc!

— There are no more squids in this area!

— Baruti Elya is a drug dealer!

Speaking at the same time, the two cut each

other's speech, but Keene opened his eyes when he

heard Lucy's sentence.

— Oh, this is more serious.

— We can already force him to withdraw from

the Sazinge without difficulty, Dr. Keene.

— But, Lucy, aren't you the one who didn't want

to see him lose his job?

— I changed my mind when I found out he's a

criminal.

— I love to hear that. Come on you two, we have

work to do in Hluleka!

Grabbing each of us with one arm, Keene led us

back to the door, pulling a wad of cash out of his pocket

on the way, and tossing it over the reception counter.