Blackwater Sound. James Hall

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СКАЧАТЬ so good. Each spring for the last nine years, the duplicate unit came alive right on schedule and beeped steadily for seven days.

      ‘I’m going home, Dad. I’ll pick up something for supper.’

      ‘I’ll be along in a while.’

      ‘All right.’

      ‘Tell Johnny he needs to get his gear together. Tomorrow we’re heading to Abaco. We have to be close by when she surfaces.’

      ‘All right, Dad.’

      ‘And you’re coming, right? To Marsh Harbor?’

      ‘I don’t know. There’s a lot of work around here.’

      He let go of the mouse and swiveled his chair around to face her.

      ‘This could be our last shot,’ he said. ‘That battery’s about to give out. It’s now or never, Morgan.’

      ‘It’s a busy time, Dad. A lot of things around here need my attention.’

      He reached out and took her hand in his. His palm was roughened from boat work and fishing, the hand of a laborer.

      ‘Family, Morgan. It’s more important than business.’

      ‘Is it, Dad?’

      His dark eyes took her in and he gave her a quick boyish smile. The smile her mother must have fallen in love with. This man who had once been so easy and fun-loving, brimming with dreams and self-confidence. Nothing like the dark set of his mouth that dominated his appearance these last few years as his attention to the world dwindled to a fine point. Until all his energy, all his time and intelligence was focused on that one thing, a blue marlin swimming somewhere in the oceans of the world. Big Mother.

      ‘Family,’ he said, a brief light filling his smile. ‘It’s everything, Morgan. The whole ball of wax.’

      She nodded and said okay, yes, she would go along this one last time.

      ‘Good. Maybe you’ll be like your mother. She always brought us luck.’

      ‘Yeah,’ Morgan said. ‘A lot of luck.’

      ‘It wouldn’t be right if you weren’t there.’

      ‘But when the battery dies, it’s over. No more trips. No more chasing.’

      His smile drifted away, eyes blurring.

      ‘And you’ll come back to work. Start minding the store again.’

      He blinked and returned from somewhere far off.

      ‘I know this has been hard on you, Morgan. I’m very proud of you, the way you stepped in and took charge. I couldn’t have managed without your help.’

      ‘So you’ll come back and everything will be like it was.’

      ‘Someday, sure,’ he said. ‘This can’t go on forever.’

      ‘No,’ she said. ‘It can’t.’

      He took her hand and gave it a squeeze, then swung back to his work.

      Morgan stood behind him for another moment and watched her father shift through the screens. Entering new data, studying the small mutations that this fresh information made on the global model.

      She watched him type, watched him click the mouse. She reached out and laid a hand on his shoulder but he did not register her presence. He simply continued to type, to move from screen to screen, entering the latest information, then switching back to the global chart to see what effect his new data had on Big Mother’s position.

      Morgan closed her eyes and tried to focus all her being on the palm of her hand. Tried to feel the energy that resonated from her father. But all she could sense were the tiny adjustments of muscle and sinew as he typed, as he clicked, as he peered at the cold, bright, deathless screen.

4

      The bar at Sundowners was quiet. Willie Nelson crooning softly from the overhead speakers, the bald, heavyset bartender whistling along. Only Thorn and a couple of schoolteachers on spring break from Chicago staring at each other across the bar. A short, blocky blonde and a tall redhead with a piercing laugh. They talked to him for a while. Told him what they did for a living, where they were from. Going home tomorrow, back to the grind. All those papers to grade. After ten minutes of flirting, they bought him a round, then came around the bar, took the stools on either side of him to watch him drink it. The redhead giggled. They were drunker than he was. Having a lot more fun.

      They leaned behind his back and whispered to each other. The blonde whooped with laughter. Thorn poured the Bilge Burner down his throat and stared straight ahead at their reflections in the dark glass that looked out on the canal. The alcohol wasn’t working. The smell of scorched flesh still lingered and he could hear whimpers echoing from the shadows of the bar.

      The blonde cupped her hand around Thorn’s ear and leaned close.

      ‘Can I interest you in an orgasm,’ she whispered. ‘Two-for-one special.’

      The redhead scratched a message on his wrist with her fingernail.

      ‘Sorry,’ he said.

      ‘Sorry?’ the blonde said. ‘What’s that mean? Sorry.’

      ‘It means I’m not that kind of guy. At least not tonight.’

      ‘Every guy is that kind of guy,’ said the blonde.

      ‘He’s telling us he’s gay, Charlotte.’

      ‘He won’t be gay after we get through with him,’ Charlotte said.

      ‘You’re drunk,’ said her friend.

      ‘Well, of course I am. This is the Keys, isn’t it? That’s the law down here. Get drunk, stay drunk. Isn’t that the law, Mr Scruffy Keys Man?’

      ‘Thanks for the drink,’ Thorn said, and got up and moved around the semicircular bar.

      For the next fifteen minutes the two schoolteachers glared at him and murmured to each other till finally Sugarman showed up.

      ‘Friends of yours?’ he said, nodding hello to the schoolteachers.

      ‘They think I’m gay.’

      ‘You don’t look gay,’ said Sugarman. ‘You look morose.’

      Sugar was his oldest, closest friend. Jamaican father, Norwegian mother. From that odd mix, he’d inherited a quirky nature, a blend of hot-blooded and serene, sexy island rhythms and cool detachment, a jovial nature, a dissecting mind. He was strikingly handsome with short, dark, curly hair and a thin, straight nose and shrewd dark eyes. His mouth was supple and he had half a dozen different grins at his disposal. His skin was silky and its color was two shades lighter than Thorn’s tan. Wherever he went, Sugar got second looks. Once down in Key West, СКАЧАТЬ