Christopher Moore - Fluke, Or, I Know Why the Winged Whale Sings

"Well, you always said that the jazz of what you do was knowing something that no one else in the world knows," Amy said. "You jazzed?" She took his arm and draped it around her neck as they walked.

They had just left the Gooville apartment of Amelia Earhart.

"She looks good, doesn't she?" Amy asked.

Amelia was a beautiful, gracious woman, and after sixty-seven years in Gooville, the aviatrix didn't look a day over fifty. She'd been just under forty when she disappeared in 1937. In her presence Nate had felt as if he were fifteen again, out on his first date, stuttering and stumbling and blushing — blushing, for Christ's sake — when Amy mentioned that she'd been spending nights at his place. Amelia made Nate sit next to her on the couch and took his hand as she spoke to him.

"Nathan, I hope what I'm about to say to you doesn't sound racist, because it's not, but I want to put your mind at ease. I have had a very long time to get used to the idea of my daughter's being a sexually active adult, and, frankly, if after all these years you are the one that she has chosen to fall in love with, which appears to be the case, I can only tell you how relieved I am that you are of the human species. So please relax."

Nate had shot a look to Amy.

She shrugged. "Every girl has her adventurous period."

"Thank you," Nate said to Amelia Earhart.

Now, out on the street, to Amy he said, "I shouldn't have asked how the flight was."

"She's still a little sensitive about that. Even after all these years. My dad was her navigator. He didn't survive the crash."

"But you said you were born in 1940. How could that be if your father died in 1937?"

"Robust sperms?"

"Three years? That's really robust."

She punched his arm. "I was rounding up. Give me a break, Nate, I'm old. You never grilled the Old Broad for accuracy like this."

"I wasn't sleeping with the Old Broad."

"But you wanted to, didn't you? Admit it? You were hot to get into her muumuu."

"Stop." Nate glanced at some whaley-boy males who were hanging out in front of the bakery (they always seemed to be there) doing a synchronized display wave with their willies, and he was about to defend himself with a comment about Amy's past, but then he decided that there was just no need to watch that little brain movie, let alone use it as some kind of weapon against what was essentially just Amy-style teasing — one of the things he found he adored about her as soon as he'd allowed himself to admit that he could adore someone again.

The whaley boys snickered at him as they passed.

"You guys are all just big, squeaky bath toys," Nate said under his breath, knowing they could hear him anyway. Nate had been insulting them every time he and Amy went by for a week or so, just to irritate them. Maybe Amy was rubbing off on him.

The whaley boys blew a collective sputtering raspberry.

"Sentient? You guys can't even spell sentient," Nate whispered.

And then the reward. He loved watching creatures with four digits try to flip him the middle finger.

"Yeah, I'm the immature one," Amy said.

Life is good, Nate thought. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he was happy. Kinda.

In the morning a brace of whaley boys came to take him to the Colonel. Amy wasn't even there to kiss him good-bye.

The Colonel was standing in the middle of the mother-of-pearl amphitheater when the whaley boys led Nate in.

"You two go on now," the Colonel said to the whaley boys. "Nate can find his way back."

"You came out of your lair," Nate said.

The Colonel looked older, more drawn than when Nate had seen him before.

"I don't want to be in contact with the Goo for what I'm going to tell you."

"I thought it didn't get information that way," Nate said.

The Colonel ignored him. "I was hoping you would have had a brainstorm to solve my problem, Nate, but you haven't, have you?"

"I'm working on it. It's more complex —»

"You've been distracted. I'm disappointed, but I understand. She's a piece of work, isn't she? And I mean that in the best sense of the word. Never forget that I chose to send her to you."

Nate wondered how much the Colonel knew about them and how he knew it. Reports from the whaley boys? From the Goo itself, through osmosis or some extended nervous system? "Distraction has nothing to do with it. I've thought a lot about your problem, and I'm not sure I agree with you. What makes you think the Goo is going to destroy humanity?"

"It's a matter of time. That's all. I need you to carry a message for me, Nate. You'll be responsible for saving the human race. That should go some measure toward consoling you."

"Colonel, is there any chance you can be more direct, less cryptic, and tell me for once what the hell you're talking about?"

"I want you to go to the U.S. Navy. They need to know about the threat of the Goo. One well-placed nuclear torpedo should do it. It's deep enough that they shouldn't have any problem justifying it to other countries. There won't be any fallout. They're just going to need someone credible to convince them of the threat. You."

"What about the people down here? I thought you wanted to save them."

"I'm afraid they're going to be a necessary sacrifice, Nate. What are five thousand or so people, most of whom have lived longer than they would have on the surface, compared with the whole human race, six billion?"

"You crazy bastard! I'm not going to try to convince the navy to nuke five thousand people and all the whaley boys as well. And you're more deluded than I thought if you think they'd do it on my word."

"Oh, I don't expect that. I expect they'll send down their own research team to confirm what you tell them, but when they get here, I'll see to it that they get the message that the Goo is a threat. In any case you'll survive."

"I think you're wrong about the Goo finding us dangerous. And even if you were right, what if it just decides to wait us out? On the Goo's time scale, it can just take a nap until we're extinct. I'm not doing it."

"I'm sorry you feel that way, Nate. I guess I'll have to find another way."

Nate suddenly realized that he'd blown it — his chance to escape. Once he was outside Gooville, there would have been nothing to force him to do what the Colonel wanted. Or maybe there would be. Right then he wanted very badly to see Amy.

"Look, Colonel, maybe I can do something. Couldn't you just evacuate Gooville? Drop all the people on an island. Let the whaley boys find somewhere else to live. I mean, if I reveal the Goo to the world, it's all sort of going to be out of the bag anyway. I mean —»

"I'm sorry, Nate, I don't believe you. I'll take care of it. Evacuation wouldn't make any difference to the people here anyway. And the whaley boys shouldn't exist in the first place. They're an abomination."

"An abomination? That's not the scientist I knew talking."

"Oh, I admit that they are fabulous creatures, but they would have never evolved naturally. They are a product of this war, and their purpose has been served. As has mine, as has yours. I'm sorry we didn't see eye to eye on this. Go now."

Just like that, this crazy bastard was going to plan B, and Nate had no idea how to stop him. Maybe that was what he was really brought here for. Maybe the Colonel was like someone who makes a suicide attempt as a cry for help, rather than an earnest attempt to end his life. And Nate had missed it.

He started to back away from the Colonel, desperately trying to think of something he could say to change the situation, but nothing was coming to him. When he reached the passageway, the Colonel called out to him from the steps by the giant iris.