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 The Blue Narwhale  (60 ratings)by Roger Born Page 3 of 3 He was waiting now, poised in position. He was undetected by the Blue
Narwhal! His ship was well to the left of it. When the whale turned again to
Port, he would fire a single harpoon into its heart, just above and behind
its fluke. The whale's image was indelible on the sulfurous screen, and on
his heightened conscious awareness.
Time slowed to a crawl. He lived completely each one of these few seconds to its full! He reluctantly gave each one up, and was eagerly looking for the next, as they silently ticked away. "Are you in striking range?" She asked quickly. "Yes! It feels so good!" He cried out through clenched teeth. "Soon you will eat, my Love! I wish I were with you, to share in your bounty!" She exalted. His Prey turned! This was the Moment! The one every Hunter knows instinctively. The one they ever and always dream of! Swiftly his fingers touched the single toggle switch, off to the side by itself on the console. On the computer enhanced sonar screen, he saw the harpoon go down to its target on a perfect trajectory! He had, ....at last, ....tracked and killed the Blue Narwhal! The ship's cameras whirred. He heard a horrible scream through his headset! "Oh, my Love, flee! I have been found by those who hunt me! I am mortally wounded! Flee! Find another of our kind for mate! I am no more!" Utter silence followed. Numbly he sat there! He was completely stunned! Minutes went quickly by. By now he should have fired the inflating harpoons, and tagged the beast. The processing of its parts would make him rich! Instead, he simply stared at the screen. Out loud he wondered, "How could you--? I couldn't have know--!" He quickly cut off his response to "Her" knowing that she was no longer able to respond to him: She had been the Blue Narwhal! She, the wondrous, beautiful, intelligent, and savagely dead, Huntress! He closed his eyes against the immense reality of it all. He had killed her, the last Blue Narwhal! Somehow he knew there would be no more of her kind. There had been too many of his kind. His equipment was too good, he thought idly. It was picking up her sonar voice and sending it translated somehow to his ears. During the Hunt, he had not questioned that she was one of his kind! They were so alike, so very much so! But he hadn't known! How could he have known? Why hadn't he known? How utterly stupid he was for not understanding that it was her all along? How stupid, for not understanding from the beginning that all of his victims, his Prey, were just like her! He felt numb! Deadness! He was dead inside, -- forever! The Hunt was dead to him now. Ashes. He knew that he could never Hunt again! The chronometer on his console ticked off the minutes. They had no meaning to him any longer. Utterly, finally, he knew that he was dead too. The Hunter had died in that final moment of the Blue Narwhal's death. He had, at last, realized the enormity of his deed! She had lived to Hunt. She had a right to Hunt, and he did not! "The Hunter. The Prey! We are all the same!" he whispered to no one. His ship, with the engines set at idle, was slowly being turned broadside to the advancing waves. He knew he must turn her again or be swamped. His ship, "The Requiem." His requiem! He did nothing. He sat frozen in place, belted into his heavily padded chair, on his cold, dark and empty command deck, as the single screen continued to glow, faint and empty. What was Life for him now? He tasted utter defeat for the first, and the final time. "We hunt only ourselves!" He cried silently at the futility of it. "Let it come! Let this boiling sea end it for me, as I have ended it for her! I will be joined with her at last, my Blue Narwhal!" He sobbed, as he buried his head in his hands, trying to hide from an empty, wasted life of hunting game; --of hunting Life! Many miles overhead, a roving satellite picked up an automated distress signal and automatically sent it to the proper governmental authorities to dispatch a rescue effort. Whatever that ship was, which had sent the signal, as all ships are capable of doing on their own, --it was gone. Its brief task now complete, the satellite, always watching below for any sign of life, found none, and moved on.
Copyright © 1999, 2000, 2001 Roger Born, sffworld.com. All rights reserved. No part of this may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the author. The author has submitted the work in accordance with and in agreement with the following Submission Guidelines. |
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