The Wailing Octopus Part 22

"No point in all of us getting soaked," Scotty said. "Have you had any experience in this kind of spying, Tony?"

The archaeologist had not. He grinned. "Until I came to Spindrift, I led a rather quiet, academic sort of life. Except for the war, of course."

"Then Scotty or I had better go," Rick said. "Or both of us."

Scotty shook his head. "No need for both. It's only a reconnaissance, anyway. Toss you for it."

Rick produced a coin. "All right. Call it." He flipped it as Scotty claimed heads. It was a tail.

"Best two out of three?" Scotty invited.

Rick grinned. "And after that, best three out of five?"

Scotty growled, "All right. I'll go." He got ready by taking off shoes and socks. He could change his s.h.i.+rt and shorts when he returned. He slipped through the back door and was gone.

Rick turned on the radio, tried for a weather report, and settled for a Miami disk jockey who was playing some good records. The static was bad, but the station came through clearly enough to make listening worth while.

Scotty was back before a half dozen records had been played. He sat down, ignoring the water that dripped from him. "Listen, our friends just rounded the northern tip of the island in the boat and they're heading south just inside the eastern reef. What do you make of that?"

Rick pictured the movements of the enemy boat from Scotty's description.

"They can't be putting out to sea, otherwise they'd be outside the reef.

And they're not interested in anything on the island or they'd have walked. I'd say they're planning to do some night diving on the eastern side of the island."

"In this kind of weather?" Tony asked incredulously.

"Sure. It's stormy on top, but once you're below the wave motion it's quiet as ever. They could dive."

Scotty stood up. "If they can, so can we."

There was no denial to that. They made a trip to the _Water Witch_ and collected their equipment, then planned what they would do.

"We'll all use lungs," Tony said. "We have three regulators and there are plenty of full tanks, enough for two dives each. However, we have only two pairs of gla.s.ses for the dark-light camera. I'll yield to Scotty as the more experienced diver, so you and he use the gla.s.ses, Rick. I'll stay on top, or near the top, with a single float, and a gun.

If I use the lung I can stay submerged most of the time and not have to fight waves."

"Lash yourself to the float," Scotty cautioned.

"And we'll use a buddy line," Rick added. "The same one the professor and I used. Scotty, you take a gun, and I'll take the camera."

"If I see any trouble in the making, I'll bang on my air tank," Tony said. "You should be able to hear that for quite a distance."

There was nothing else to be planned in advance. They picked up their equipment and went out the back door into the storm, crossing the island through the palms. As they emerged onto the eastern sh.o.r.e, Scotty called, "Look--about five hundred yards north."

The lights of the frogmen's boat, visible as bright halos through the rain, were tossing violently just inside the eastern reef. Apparently the boat was anch.o.r.ed. The rain was too thick for them to see any movement aboard, or to see details of the boat itself.

"Move carefully," Rick cautioned. He had to raise his voice to be heard above the storm. "We haven't explored this sh.o.r.e. It may be full of coral heads."

"I doubt it," Scotty returned. "It would be too dangerous for the boat in this kind of weather, even if they knew a channel."

"Rick's right about careful movement, nevertheless," Tony replied. "We must move with care, especially near the reef." He indicated his float.

"I'll never be able to tow this through that water, so I'll leave it in the palm grove. We can pick it up on the way back. We shouldn't need it with lungs, anyway. Do you boys have rescue packs?"

The packs were plastic floats compressed into packages no larger than a cigarette pack. They contained a carbon-dioxide cartridge and could be inflated simply by squeezing them, which punctured the cartridge. The boys had carried them on their weight belts for so long that they took them for granted.

They donned their equipment, then walked down to the beach. The surf was not heavy, since the wind was blowing from the opposite side of the island. Nevertheless, there was enough water motion to lift a fine screen of sand and dust.

"The camera will be useless until we get into deeper water," Rick called. "Let's rope together and swim straight out."

They waded in, awkward in the fins, until they were deep enough for swimming. Then all adjusted mouthpieces and started out. Rick tried the infrared light intermittently, but not until they were in about twenty feet of water did the roiled bottom allow its use. He led the way to the reef, the others following in file.

The reef was closer to the surface than on the western side. Rick had to swim along it until he found a place where they could cross without being buffeted by breakers. Once across, he swam down the face of the reef, knowing that the trip was hard on Tony, because the underwater world was completely dark to one without light, or gla.s.ses with which to see the infrared illumination.

Rick found a fairly level shelf at about thirty feet and swam along it, keeping close to the reef wall, until he thought they were in the vicinity of the frogmen. Then he pulled twice on the tie rope in a signal to surface, knowing that Scotty would pa.s.s the signal along to Tony.

He emerged in a rough sea, only yards from the point on the reef opposite the anch.o.r.ed boat. He was in time to see two frogmen climb down the boat's ladder. They got into the water and the third man, on deck, lowered the bra.s.s object to them.

Rick had no fear that they would be seen from the boat. Their heads would be hidden by the breaking waves, and their bubbles would merge with the natural foam.

He saw at once what their tactics should be. He pulled Scotty and Tony to him, then let his mouthpiece drop. Putting his lips close to their ears, he said softly, "If it's like last time, they won't be down long.

Scotty and I will track them to find out where they go, and watch what they're doing. Then, after they leave, we'll see if they left anything behind."

Scotty and Tony nodded. Tony untied the line that had held him to Scotty. Rick replaced his mouthpiece, cleared a little mist from his face mask, and led the way down.

This time the infrared light operated continuously. Now and then Rick worked the toggle switch through its loose plastic covering and shut the unit off while he searched for visible light. He found it, far down the face of the reef.

The camera made it easy, and his mind was at rest because this time nature had made it impossible for their bubbles to give them away to surface watchers.

There were heavy swells on the surface. He knew it because of the pressure surges on his ears. But otherwise there was no sign of the storm. He grinned because he suddenly realized that he felt dry. On the surface, with the rain beating at him, he had felt like a drowned kitten.

Moving with the confidence gained in his first experience, he led the way seaward, then went to the level of the light. Soon they were close enough to see the frogmen working over something on a coral ledge on the reef face. They hovered motionless, watching, and as one of the frogmen moved they saw that it was the bra.s.s ball.

Rick started his camera. He had an advantage, because the frogmen were concentrating on what they were doing, their backs to him. He moved in cautiously, camera grinding, then backed away again when he thought he had enough long shots.

One frogman moved away a few feet, and Rick's breathing stopped as the man's belt light flashed toward him. Had the frogman been looking, he could have seen the boys, but he was too interested in the second frogman's actions.

The second frogman crouched over the bra.s.s object, hand moving.

Rick recoiled as a wail lanced through his head with painful impact. He felt the rope tighten as Scotty involuntarily drew away.

It was not the octopus, then! It was the bra.s.s ball that wailed. But why? For what possible reason?

The frogmen were apparently satisfied. One of them picked up the powerful light they had been using and turned it off. Then, with only belt lights, they started back up the reef.

Rick waited until the lights were no longer visible. He glanced at his depth gauge and wrist watch. They were at eighty feet, and they had plenty of air left. He swam to the bra.s.s ball, camera grinding.

He had never seen anything quite like it. The bra.s.s sphere was mounted on a box about twelve inches square and six inches high. From the sphere, two rounded projections thrust out. He identified a waterproof switch on the box, and two small k.n.o.bs mounted on calibrated plates.

These were obviously controls, but he had no idea what they controlled.

Steve would want a few close-ups. Rick worked his camera focus and took shots from every angle. When he had enough, he pulled twice on the rope in a signal to surface. Scotty motioned to him to lead the way.