Dolphin Island

“Yes—and that gives us some valuable information. It means that the coastal species we work with and their deep-sea, cousins speak the same language. We didn’t know that before.”

“But we’re still in the dark about their motives,” said Dr. Keith. “If wild dolphins that have never had any direct contact with men go to all this trouble, it suggests that they want something from us—and want it badly. Perhaps rescuing Johnny meant something like, ‘We’ve helped you—now help us.’”

“It’s a plausible theory,” agreed Professor Kazan. “But we won’t find the answer by talking. There’s only one way to discover what Johnny’s friends were driving at—and that’s to ask them.”

“If we can find them.”

“Well, if they really want something, they won’t be too far away. We may be able to contact them without leaving this room.”

The Professor threw a switch, and once more the air was full of sound. But this time, Johnny soon realized, he was not listening to the voice of a single dolphin, but to all the voices of the sea.

It was an incredibly complex mixture of hissings and cracklings and rumblings. Mingled with these, there were chirps that might have been made by birds, faint and distant moans, and the murmur of a million waves.

They listened for several minutes to this fascinating medley of noises; then the Professor turned another switch on the huge machine.

“That was Hydrophone West,” he explained to Johnny. “Now we’ll try Hydro East. It’s in deeper water, right off the edge of the Reef.”

The sound picture changed; the noise of the waves was fainter, but the moanings and creakings from the unknown creatures of the sea were much louder. Once more the Professor listened for several minutes, then he switched to North, and finally to South.

“Run the tapes through the analyzer, will you?” he asked Dr. Keith. “But I’d be willing to bet, even now, that there’s no large school of dolphins within twenty miles.”

“In that case, bang goes my theory.”

“Not necessarily; twenty miles is nothing to dolphins. And they’re hunters, remember, so they can’t stay in one place. They have to follow their food wherever it goes. The school that rescued Johnny would soon vacuum clean all the fish off our reef.”

The Professor rose to his feet, then continued:

“I’ll leave you to run the analysis; it’s time I went down to the pool. Come along, Johnny, I want you to meet some of my best friends.”

As they walked toward the beach, the Professor seemed to fall into a reverie. Then he startled Johnny by suddenly and skillfully producing a string of rapidly modulated whistles.

He laughed at Johnny’s surprised expression.

“No human being will ever speak fluent Dolphin,” he said, “but I can make a fair attempt at a dozen of the commoner phrases. I have to keep working at them, though, and I’m afraid my accent’s pretty terrible. Only dolphins that know me well can understand what I’m trying to say. And sometimes I think they’re just being polite.”

The Professor unlocked the gate to the pool, and then carefully locked it behind him.

“Everyone wants to play with Susie and Sputnik, but I can’t allow it,” he explained. “At least, not while I’m trying to teach them English.”

Susie was a sleek, excited matron of some three hundred pounds, who reared herself half out of the water as they approached. Sputnik, her nine-month-old son, was more reserved, or perhaps more shy; he kept his mother between himself and the visitors.

“Hello, Susie,” said the Professor, speaking with exaggerated clarity. “Hello, Sputnik.” Then he pursed his lips and let fly with that complicated whistle. Something went wrong halfway through, and he swore softly under his breath before going back to start afresh.

Susie thought this was very funny. She gave several yelps of dolphin laughter, then squirted a jet of water at her visitors, though she was polite enough to miss them. Then she swam up to the Professor, who reached into his pocket and produced a plastic bag full of titbits.

He held one piece high in the air, whereupon Susie backed away a few yards, came shooting out of the water like a rocket, took the food neatly from the Professor’s fingers, and dived back into the pool with scarcely a splash. Then she emerged again and said distinctly, “Thank you, ‘fessor.”

She was obviously waiting for more, but Professor Kazan shook his head.

“No, Susie,” he said, patting her on the back. “No more; food-time soon.”

She gave a snort that seemed to express disgust, then went racing around the pool like a motor boat, clearly showing off.

As Sputnik followed her, the Professor said to Johnny:

“See if you can feed him—I’m afraid he doesn’t trust me.”

Johnny took the titbit, which smelled to high heaven of fish, oil, and chemicals. It was, he found later, the dolphin equivalent of tobacco or candy. The Professor had concocted it only after years of research; the animals loved the stuff so much that they would do almost anything to earn some.

Johnny knelt at the edge of the pool and waved the bait.

“Sputnik!” he called. “Here, Sputnik!”