Bangkok Noir

Just as Shockley had said, in the back two female Indo-Pacific humpback dolphins and one male lay under a green plastic sheet. Chinapat pulled the sheet away, exposing the pregnant female on a rubber mattress. The dolphins from the cove at Taiji had passed along the kidnapping alert minutes after the gang caught the dolphins in the sea near Trang. The kidnappers were on their way to deliver the dolphins to a powerful person in Chon Buri province.

The police arrived minutes after Seven phoned. They looked at the dolphins as the men in the van watched.

“Do you know who our patron is?” the driver asked one of the cops.

“You’re under arrest,” said the head policeman. He turned to Seven. “You’ve been a great help. We will handle it from here.”

“What will you do?” asked Chinapat.

“Of course, in time, we will return the dolphins to the sea,” the policeman said.

Seven, at last, could understand the dolphins communicating in the van. They were saying that they hadn’t much time remaining, and soon it would be too late.

“There isn’t much time,” Seven said to the cop.

The gangsters, who’d been silent, looked at each other and then at Chinapat and Seven. “You have no choice but to let us go,” said the leader. “You will regret this. Hey, what are you doing?”

Chinapat had climbed into the van and Seven joined him. He rolled down the window. “We will release them.” He didn’t wait for an answer. The police and gangsters stood on the road, watching as Chinapat squealed the tires, kicking up gravel, as he drove the van back onto the highway.

5.2

Where are you?

Beach, Muang District, Chon Buri

Chinapat pushed the accelerator to the floor as the van sped toward the sea. He cut off the highway, and the van bumped along a gravel road. They could both smell the sea. The dolphins, despite their weakened condition, had continued to sing during the entire journey. The rescue revived their spirits. When the van reached the end of a dirt road, Seven got out of the van and guided Chinapat as he backed onto the beach, the surf lapping at the rear wheels.

Seven spotted the Dolphin Shepherd a couple of hundred meters offshore. Shockley and four men worked the oars on the rowboat. Landing the boat, Shockley and his men ran up the beach, and within minutes they had carried the first female out of the van and laid her on the sand. Not long afterward, the other two dolphins were lined up on the beach, too. Shockley’s men removed two cases of iceberg water from the rowboat. Shockley opened several bottles and poured the cool water over the three dolphins. One by one, the dolphins slipped away.

Police sirens wailed in the distance as Shockley and his men climbed back into the rowboat. “That will be the police. You’d better come with us,” he said.

Seven shook her head. She squeezed Chinapat’s hand. “Goodbye, Mr. Shockley.”

He smiled and nodded. “The rescue was worth 10,000 points. You are almost over the finish line. Why stop now?”

Seven knew that was a con. Simulations never had a finish line, only a continuous loop, with points stacking up to reach the moon but never quite reaching the stars.

5.3

Where are you?

Friendship Hotel, Sukhumvit Road, Bangkok

Like ice into water and water into steam... Seven continued to fix her gaze at the crate of iceberg water bottles Shockley had left behind. She had never felt more alone and sad. Anger welled up inside as she picked up one of the bottles by the neck and flung it as hard as she could at the sea. It exploded in a star cluster of light, turning the shoreline a silvery glowing white.

As she leaned down for a second bottle of water, she looked to her right. Chinapat was next to her in bed in their Bangkok hotel room. They’d been drinking Mekong whiskey, and the bottles were strewn on the floor. She held an empty bottle in her hand, and as she rolled over she asked Chinapat if he was awake. He’d unhooked a red and blue wire from the insert plates at the base of his skull cables. The first two rows on the consort unit beside the bed flashed a hot white.

“Why does the dolphin simulation always upset you?” he asked. It was like asking an addict why she couldn’t go cold turkey.

He gently removed the cables from Seven and let them drop to the side.

She twisted the wires between her thumb and forefinger, and looked up at Chinapat. He was waiting for her answer.

“We’re out of the router, right?”

He nodded.

“We’re off the grid, right?” she asked.

“Right.” That seemed obvious, and he wondered why she asked.

She shook her head. “It’s not right. I’m logged at 5.2? And where are you, if you’re not at 5.2?”

Chinapat rolled over and grinned into his pillow. She’d confused the “where are you” with the “who are you” matrix.

“Listen,” he said, “and they’ll tell you themselves.”