Bill paces in the Narwhal’s mess hall, his shoes sending a metal echo through the air. Charlie pokes her head in, sees him, and shakes her head.
“Nervous?” She asks.
Bill stops and looks up at Charlie, taking a deep breath. “Never, I’ve been waiting for this day my entire life.”
“Really? I’m surprised considering we only started hearing Julia back in ‘97.”
“Well, I might be exaggerating a little.”
“Come on.” Charlie walks up and clasps Bill’s shoulder in her hand. “I’m nervous, and you’re not pacing for no reason. Three of the people you wanted onboard aren’t here yet, and we’re leaving tonight.”
“Thanks for the reminder, you always know how to cheer me up.”
“I’m just saying it makes sense to be nervous. I’d be weird if you weren’t. Honestly, the people who are and aren’t here yet are insignificant compared to what we’re doing. I mean, this isn’t exactly a pleasure cruise. A million things could go wrong, throw a wrench into everything we’ve worked for.”
Bill waves a hand in the air. “I’m not worried about any of that. Tiny things with slim chances beyond my control. Not worth overthinking.”
“Then stop stressing altogether. They’ll be here, Bill. Well, maybe not Piper, but that’s her loss. Max and James will, we know they want to be here, so they will.”
In the bunks, Elina, Jessica, and Ernie claim their beds and pack their clothes and toiletries nearby. Accommodations are far from a nice hotel, but since they’re operating with less than a third of the usual military crew complement, Charlie was able to swing some changes to the bunk room to help everyone get a bit more comfortable. Number one on her list was more comfortable beds, which Elina silently thanks her for as she lays down on her’s.
Some things couldn’t be changed. They couldn’t just convert a nuclear submarine to a luxurious cruise liner. Still cramped and metallic, piping and wires on the walls and ceiling, filled with cold, white light, the Narwhal is all function and no form. Though the middle deck houses the mess hall and bunk room, it’s the only place onboard in service of creature comforts. Just outside the mess hall, is a ladder leading both up and down. The deck above houses the control room, and below the torpedo room and backup generators. It is, all in all, a rather small space for such a large ship and that’s because all of those things exist in just the front half of the ship. The aft end of the Narwhal is all devoted to the ship’s nuclear reactor and the massive engine it powers.
In both the control room and rear compartment of the ship, the crew that Lewis has assembled, totally thirty-three, works hard in these final hours before the Narwhal sails. For the moment, the captain himself is up on the sail.
Lewis peers out across the harbor. It’s another busy day, ships and boats of all shapes and sizes come and go. It won’t be until evening that they get their turn, but he can feel his body itching to go. It’s April now, three months since he arrived, and the fire to return to the sea, his element, his real home, burns more intense by the minute. He pulls a long, slow breath into his lungs. The biting cold is gone from the air, replaced with a crisp, spring breeze. For some, it might almost be a shame to leave the city just as winter is loosening its grip, but for Lewis, there’s nothing he’d rather do than get the old submarine sailing again.
From his vantage point on the Narwhal’s sail, Lewis sees three figures approach the ship. Taking one final breath of fresh air, he dips back inside to find Bill.
He finds him in the mess hall. “Bill!” Lewis booms. “Good news, rest of your people are here.”
Relief seems to wash over Bill’s face as soon as Lewis finishes talking. They leave the mess hall to greet the late arrivals. Charlie stays behind to avoid crowding the narrow halls, but she watches Bill’s back as he leaves. Straight and tall, his confidence boosted by the completion of the team he gathered, Bill walks with the posture she was used to seeing in him and his relief is her own.
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***
Only a few cursory greetings pass between Bill and the final three members of his crew as they board. Everybody needs a moment to settle in, but Bill singles out Piper when he manages to get a moment alone with her.
Ada Piper is someone he had been pretty sure wasn’t coming. Unlike Max and James, she had never given him a definite answer over the phone, just a maybe. He’s happy she’s come, of course, but he bites his lip as he approaches none-the-less, unsure how he wants to start.
Piper is tall, not quite as tall as Charlie, but she stands just about the same height as Bill, her eyes level with his as he calls out to her. She has gray hair tied back in a bun and sharp blue eyes. In fact, sharp is probably the best way Bill can think to describe her, every time he looks at her she just seems...pointy. Though he sees her as cactus-like in both appearance and personality, he can’t allow himself to be intimidated, she had chosen to be here and it was important that he make good on why.
“Doctor Adorno,” Piper speaks first as Bill approaches. “Nice to see you again.”
Bill tries to laugh, but it comes off sounding forced. “I’m honestly a bit surprised you came at all.”
“Yes, well, I’m still not 100% convinced by your theories, but in our phone call you at least made things a bit clearer than you did when we met.”
Bill scratches at the back of his neck. “Ah, yeah, that was...unfortunate.”
Piper scoffs. “No need to be a broken record, Adorno. You’ve apologized once already. We’re all adults here, I think we can move on. As I said, I’m not totally convinced yet, but you asked for me specifically. You wanted a whale specialist, so let’s see if Julia really is the white whale you’re looking for.”
“So you do believe there’s a chance?”
“Yes. I wouldn’t have come along otherwise. I took a listen to your recordings, and though I’ll hold on to my skepticism until we see the lady in question, I wasn’t about to let such a potentially high-profile expedition slip off to someone with lesser qualifications. If Julia exists and if she’s a whale, then I’ll be happy to lend you my expertise.”
“Thank you.”
Piper nods and, turning on her heel, she leaves the bunks behind.
Just as she exits, James and Max enter.
Max’s eyebrows are raised as he greets his old roommate. “Hoo, boy. We heard it all. Did not know you were wanting to bring her on. Judging by the shell shocked look on your face, you weren’t expecting her to show at all.”
“You got me,” Bill replies.
“We saw her walking past the gates when we pulled up,” James says. “Didn’t believe it could really be her until we stepped up alongside her and saw her face. Don’t think she likes you, Max.”
Max laughs. “Yeah, gave me the ol’ stink eye, like she had my number right away. Called me a buffoon.”
“Okay,” Bill says, “but that’s fair.”
Max nods.”Yeah, you’re right.”
Short and stout, with unkempt hair that grows only on the sides of his head, Max Ross speaks just as much with his hands as he does with his mouth. Even his eyes, wild and accented by big, bushy eyebrows, seem to say exactly what he’s feeling. Those feelings are pretty simple most of the time, but when he stops partying and puts his mind to something, that rambunctious mouth and body of his become a beacon of intelligent and deep thought.
James on the other hand is much more unassuming. His hair is stark white even at only 48 years old, and a well-maintained goatee covers his lip and chin. He has calm, brown eyes and a cool, relaxed, voice. But he has a wry smile that makes one feel like there’s more to him than meets the eye, and in his actions and words, he shows his true colors. James is competitive and daring. His travels have taken him all over the world, to all sorts of extreme environments. He’s a daredevil, through-and-through, and that’s what brought him on board.
“Well, no sense standing around in here,” Max says, “let’s head to the mess hall, see if we can’t rustle up a bit of a bon voyage party for ourselves.”
An hour later and Max has done exactly what he set out to do. Though Lewis protests, wanting to keep his sailors sober for the departure, Max goes out and brings enough booze onboard for everybody anyway. Science team and crew alike celebrate their approaching adventure, though Lewis ensures that the shift that’s set to run the Narwhal on departure stays away from the drinking.
At this point, tight-lipped secrets don’t matter all that much and even if they did, lips are loosened as drinks are passed around. The sailors--previously kept unaware of their mission--learn where they’re going and what they’re looking for. Conversations shift away from lived experiences, as scientists and sailors focus their attention on the future. Now they talk of whale vocalizations and mythological beasts hidden from the passage of centuries. For the researchers, it’s the chance of a lifetime; to redefine Earth’s fossil record. For the crew, it’s the opportunity to see with their own eyes that which has captured sailors’ imaginations since humankind first took to the sea. To say the room buzzes with anticipation would be conservative.
Whatever Julia is, everyone’s excited to find out. As the sun sets and the ship’s radio crackles to life--the officer up in the control room giving the call to make preparations for getting underway--glasses clink together in a toast as the Narwhal comes to life again and leaves Bremerton behind.