The Swarm (38 page)

‘There are plenty of people among the Makah who think the same as me.'

‘Sure, but—'

‘Tribal elders, Leon. Not all Indians think ethnic groups should express their culture through ritualistic killings. In their view, the Makah are as much a part of twenty-first-century society as the rest of Washington State.'

‘I've heard that argument before,' said Anawak, scornfully. ‘And it didn't come from you or any of your tribal elders. I read it in a press release from the Sea Shepherd Conservation Society. You can't even come up with your own arguments, Jack. It's unbelievable. Even your reasoning is fake.'

‘No, it isn't. I—'

‘And, anyway,' Anawak interrupted, ‘singling out Davie's is pathetic.'

‘Aha. So that's why you're here.'

‘Come off it, Jack, you used to be one of us. Didn't you learn anything? It was only because of whale-watching that people realised live whales and dolphins are more precious than dead ones. Whale-watching focuses the world on a problem that wouldn't get that kind of attention by any other means. It's a form of conservation. Ten million people a year go whale-watching to experience the wonder of whales. That's ten million people who'd otherwise only see whales on TV or maybe not at all. Our research means we can protect whales in their natural habitat. If it weren't for whale-watching, it wouldn't be possible.'

‘Yeah, right.'

‘So why pick on us? Because we kicked you out?'

‘You didn't kick me out. I left.'

‘We kicked you out.' Anawak was yelling now. ‘You were fired. You messed up and Davie got rid of you. Your pathetic ego couldn't handle that, just like O'Bannon couldn't cope without his hair and his outfit and his crappy name. Your whole ideology is a mistake, Jack. It's all a sham. You know what? You're a fake. You're nothing. All you do is screw things up. You're no use to the conservationists and no use to the Nootka. You don't belong anywhere. You're not Irish, you're not Indian, and that's your problem and it makes me sick, having to grapple with your problems when there's other stuff that—'

‘Leon,' said Greywolf, thin-lipped.

‘It makes me sick, seeing you like that.'

Greywolf stood up. ‘Shut up, Leon. That's enough.'

‘No, it's not. For Christ's sake, Jack, there's so much you could do. You're tall and strong, and you're not stupid, so what the—'

‘Shut up, Leon.' Greywolf walked slowly around the table, fists raised. Anawak wondered whether the first punch would knock him out. Greywolf had once broken a guy's jaw. Anawak could sense he was going to pay for his big mouth with some teeth.

But Greywolf didn't lash out. Instead he rested both hands on the arms of Anawak's chair and bent towards him.

‘Do you want to know why I chose this life?

Anawak stared at him. ‘Go right ahead.'

‘But you're not interested, are you, you self-righteous prick?'

‘Oh, I am. It's just there's nothing to tell.'

‘You…' Greywolf gnashed his teeth. ‘OK, you asshole, of course I'm
Irish too, but I've never been to Ireland. My mother's half-Suquamish. The whites never accepted her, and neither did the Indians, so she married an immigrant and no one accepted him either.'

‘That's very touching, Jack, but you mentioned it before. Tell me something new.'

‘I'm gonna give you the truth and you'll darned well listen. You're right. Running around like an Indian won't make me into one. But guess what? I could drink litres of Guinness and I'd never be Irish either. I'll never be a regular American, even though there's American blood in me too. I'm not authentic, Leon, because I don't belong anywhere.
I can't do a damn thing to change it
.'

His eyes flashed. ‘All you had to do was move and that changed everything. You turned your life around. I never had the chance.'

‘Don't give me that.'

‘Oh, sure, I could have behaved myself and got a proper job. This is a free society, after all. No one asks where you come from - so long as you're successful. Some people are lucky - they're a patchwork of ethnicities, the best bits of everything collected into one. They're at home wherever they want to be. My parents were simple people, ill at ease. They didn't know how to teach their son to be confident or fit in. They felt uprooted and misunderstood, and I got the worst of all worlds. It's one big foul-up. And the one thing that ever went right for me fouled up too.'

‘Oh, yeah. The navy. Your dolphins.'

Greywolf nodded grimly. ‘The navy was fine. I was the best handler they ever had, so they forgot about their stupid questions. Back home it all kicked off again. My parents drove each other wild - she with her Indian customs, and he with his talk of County Mayo. Like they were trying to prove their identity or something. It wasn't as though they even wanted to be proud of where they'd come from. They just wanted to come from
somewhere
- to be able to say, “This is where I belong.”'

‘That was their problem, Jack. No need to make it your own.'

‘Oh, really?'

‘Come off it. There you are, built like a tank, trying to tell me that you've been left so traumatised by your parents' problems that your life is a mess?' Anawak snorted. ‘What difference does it make if you're Indian, half-Indian or God knows what? No one's responsible for where you feel at home on the inside. That's all down to you.'

Greywolf seemed taken aback. Then satisfaction crept into his eyes and Anawak knew he had lost.

‘Who are we talking about here?' asked Greywolf, with a malicious smile.

Anawak didn't say anything.

Greywolf stood up slowly. The smile disappeared. Suddenly he looked wiped-out. He walked over to the mask and lingered in front of it. ‘Maybe I
am
an idiot,' he said softly.

‘It's not a big deal.' Anawak wiped his hand over his eyes. ‘We both are.'

‘Well, you're the biggest idiot of them all. This mask is from the
huupaKwan'um
of Chief Jones. I bet you don't know what that is. A
huupaKwan'um
is a box, a place where they keep masks, headpieces, ceremonial items. But that's not all. It's also where they keep their hereditary rights, the rights of the
ha'wiih
and the
chaachaabat
, the chiefs. The
huupaKwan'um
is the record of their territory, their historical identity, their heritage. It tells you where they come from and who they are.' He turned. ‘Someone like me could never have a
huupaKwan'um
; but you could. You could be proud of it. But you don't want anything to do with who you are or where you're from. You tell me to be responsible for the people I've chosen to belong to. Well, you've abandoned yours. You accuse me of not being authentic. I can never be a genuine Indian, but at least I'm fighting to find something that's real. You
are
real, but you don't want to be who you are, and you're not what you'd like to be. To you I look like something out of a Western, but at least I'm prepared to show my commitment to the way of life I've chosen. You run a mile when anyone asks if you're from the Makah.'

‘How do you know…?' Delaware.

‘Don't blame her,' said Greywolf. ‘She didn't dare ask
you
again.'

‘What did you tell her?'

‘Nothing, you coward. You think you can lecture me on responsibility? Leon, my life might be pathetic, but you? You're dead already.'

Anawak replayed the words in his mind. ‘Yes,' he said slowly. ‘You're right.' He got up. ‘But thanks for saving my life.'

‘Hey, hang on a minute.' Greywolf blinked. ‘What - what are you doing?'

‘I'm leaving.'

‘What? Come on, Leon, I…I didn't mean to hurt you, I…For God's sake, Leon, sit down.'

‘Why?

‘Because - because you haven't finished your Coke.'

Anawak sat down, picked up the can and drank. Greywolf sank down on the sofa.

‘So what about that boy, then?' asked Anawak. ‘Seems you've found a fan.'

‘The lad from the boat? He was scared. I looked after him.'

‘Just like that?'

‘Sure.'

Anawak smiled. ‘I thought it had more to do with wanting your picture in the paper.'

For a moment Greywolf looked annoyed. Then he grinned. ‘Of course I wanted my picture in the paper. I love being in the paper. But that doesn't mean the other thing's not true.'

‘The hero of Tofino.'

‘Laugh all you like. Being the hero of Tofino was great. Total strangers came up and slapped me on the back. Not everyone can make their reputation with groundbreaking articles on whales. You have to take what you can get.'

Anawak drained the can. ‘And how's your pressure group?'

‘The Seaguards?'

‘Yes.'

‘History. Half were killed by the whales, the other half scattered with the wind.' Greywolf frowned. ‘You know what the problem is, Leon? People are losing their significance. Everyone's replaceable. There are no ideals any more, and without ideals, there's nothing to make us more important than we are. Everyone's trying desperately to prove that the world's a little better with them than it would have been without them. I did something for that little boy. Maybe it was worthwhile. Maybe it makes me a bit more significant.'

Vancouver Docks

A few hours later, Anawak was on the jetty in the fading light. Not a soul in sight. Like all international ports, Vancouver harbour was gigantic.
Behind him lay the container port, with its angular mountains of crates. Black silhouettes of cranes stood out against the silvery-blue evening sky. The outlines of car freighters loomed like enormous shoeboxes between container ships, cargo boats and elegant white reefer-vessels. To his right he could see a long line of warehouses. A bit further on hoses, metal plates and hydraulic parts lay in heaps. That was where the dry docks started, and beyond, the floating docks. The smell of paint drifted to him on the breeze.

He would have been lost without the car. He'd already had to stop a few times for directions but, reluctant to spell out what he was looking for, he'd asked the wrong question. He'd assumed he wanted the floating docks, so that was where they'd sent him. But when he articulated his question more precisely, he was directed to the dry docks. After two wrong turns he had finally arrived. He parked the car in the shadow of a long, narrow building, heaved his sports bag over his shoulder and walked along the metal fence until he came to a rolling gate that was slightly ajar. He slipped inside.

In front of him was a paved area, with a line of barracks on both sides. Beyond that, the superstructure of an enormous ship rose from the ground. The
Barrier Queen
was lying in a basin a good 250 metres long. There were cranes on either side of her, mounted on tracks. Powerful floodlights lit the area. There was no one in sight.

As he crossed the tarmac, keeping an eye open for any movement, he questioned the wisdom of what he was doing. The ship must have been out of the water for weeks. They'd have removed the outcrop and anything hidden within it. Any scraps in the scratches and cracks would have dried out by now. There'd be no sign of the thing that had lurked among the mussels. All in all, Anawak wasn't sure what he stood to gain from inspecting the vessel again. It was a stab in the dark. If there was anything that might be useful to Nanaimo, he'd take it with him. If not, the adventure would only have cost him an evening.

The thing on the keel.

It had been no bigger than a skate or a squid and it had produced a flash of light. Lots of sea creatures did that: cephalopods, jellyfish, deepsea fish. But Anawak was convinced that it was precisely the kind of flash that he and Ford had seen on the tape. The luminous cloud was many times bigger than the thing he'd seen, but the flashes of light had reminded him of what had happened beneath the
Barrier Queen
. If the
same organism had appeared in both places, things were hotting up. The substance on the keel, the stuff inside the whales' brains and the thing in the dock all seemed identical.

The whales are just part of the problem - the only part we can see
.

He spotted jeeps parked in front of the barracks. Light shone out of the building's windows. He stopped. They were military jeeps. What was the army doing here? Suddenly it occurred to him that he was standing without shelter in the glare of the floodlights. He crouched and hurried on until he neared the edge of the basin. He was so preoccupied with the presence of the vehicles that it was a few seconds before be grasped what he was seeing. His eyes widened. He forgot the jeeps and took a step closer.

The
Barrier Queen
was floating. He'd expected to see her resting on blocks. Why hadn't they drained it? Had they finished repairing the rudder? But then they wouldn't need the dock.

All of a sudden he knew the answer.

In his excitement he dropped his bag, which hit the ground with a thud. Startled, he glanced down the empty jetty. It was noticeably darker now. Floodlights cast their white-green beams along the dock. He listened for footsteps, but all he could hear was the noise of the city.

Faced with the basin full of water he wondered whether he was making a mistake. But he was frustrated by the committee's secrecy, and besides he'd come all this way. In any case, he'd be out of there in twenty minutes.

Anawak opened his holdall. It contained everything he needed to dive. If the
Barrier Queen
had been in the floating docks, it would have made sense to approach her from the sea. But this way was easier.

It was perfect.

He stripped to the waist, then took off his jeans and located his mask, fins and pen torch. Then he strapped his collection bag round his waist. His leg-mounted dive knife completed his gear. He wouldn't need oxygen. He stowed the holdall behind a bollard, gathered up his equipment and hurried along the edge of the basin till he reached a narrow ladder leading down to the water. He took a last look at the jetty. Light was still shining from the barracks, but no one was about. Noiselessly he made his way down, pulled on his mask and flippers and slipped into the water.