“The only thing I can think of is that they were stragglers. Maybe one of the calves became sick and they dallied somewhere until the calves were well.”
“The pathologist had the same theory. Would you have kept track of their migration?”
“Yes. Do you have access to a laptop computer?”
“Wouldn’t be without it.”
“Good. Give me your e-mail address. I’ll tap into the database and get the information to you at light speed.”
“Thank you. Can’t ask for better service than that.”
“You might get the chance to pay me back if we call on NUMA for help.”
“Call me personally, and we’ll do what we can.”
“Thanks. Oh, God, I still can’t believe it about Daisy.”
Austin hung up, opened his IBM laptop computer, and hooked it up to the telephone. After fifteen minutes passed he opened his e-mail file. A map of the western U.S., Canada, and Alaska appeared. A dotted line ran down from the Chukchi Sea, through the Bering Sea, then along the coast of North America to the tip of the fingerlike Baja Peninsula. The map was labeled “General Whale Migration Route.”
Attached to the map was specific information on actual pods. Austin scrolled down until he found the file name “Daisy.” The file linked to a map showing the exact route of the Daisy pod. The pod had made steady progress, then had stopped off the Baja coast south of Tijuana. After a pause they started north again, moving slower than before. At one point they looped around as if they were disoriented. He followed their tortuous path until it stopped off San Diego.
Austin exited the whale file and called up several other sites. After a few minutes he sat back in his chair and tapped his fingertips together. The whales were migrating normally until they reached a certain area. Then something changed. He was pondering what he should do when he heard somebody at the door. Zavala.
“Home from your date so soon?”
“Yeah, I told her I had to get back to check on my sick roommate.”
Austin looked alarmed. “You didn’t bump your head today, did you?”
“I must admit going under a boat was a unique experience. I’ll never look at the nautical rules of the road in the same light again.”
“Well, for your information I feel fine, so you can go back and pick up where you left off.”
Zavala flopped down onto the sofa. “You know something, Kurt, there are times when one has to show some restraint.”
Austin wondered if a Zavala clone, stripped of its sexual drive, had walked into the room. “I agree wholeheartedly,” he said with caution. “Now tell me the real reason.”
“She broke Zavala’s rule. I don’t go out with married women.”
“How did you know she was married?”
“Her husband told me so.”
“Oh. Was he big?”
“Slightly smaller than a cement truck.”
“Well, restraint was an especially wise decision in that case.”
Joe nodded, unconvinced. “God, she was beautiful,” he said with a sigh. “What have you been up to?”
“I went to a whale necropsy.”
“And I thought I was having a bad time. There must be more fun things to do in San Diego.”
“I’m sure there are, but I was curious about what killed those whales.”
“Did they find a cause?”