qualifications, to do a proper autopsy . . .” Manny nodded in understanding and she went on: “Based on initial observation, I’d say he died of severe blood loss, possibly also trauma to major organs. He also had a blunt trauma to the head, but I don’t think that contributed.”
“Jibes with what Kulani said,” the chief put in. “She said he hit his head on the skis as he fell in.”
“We’ll need to ship the body to Kalor for a proper autopsy. However, I can tell you for sure that the blood loss was due to several bites all over his body.”
Hale asked, “What kind of bites?”
“That’s the weird part,” Alyson said, blowing out a breath. “I have seen bites from every type of animal known to this island and its surrounding waters, and I have never seen anything that matches this.”
Jack turned to the president, an expectant look on his face. To his mind, Alyson’s report simply confirmed that the waters should be closed until he could investigate.
If the gravity of the decision weighed heavily on President Moki, he didn’t show it. Jack had the crazy thought that he’d never want to play poker with the man. He simply looked thoughtful for a moment, then said, “Very well. For the time being, no sea craft are to sail from Malau’s shores.” He turned to Joe. “See to it.”
The chief nodded and moved off to his jeep.
Derek threw up his hands. “I don’t bleedin’ believe this! Manny, this is nuts, we—”
“I have made my decision, Derek,” the president said, his calm inversely proportional to the fisherman’s anger.
Hale stepped between Jack and the two other men, as if to say, Let these two hash out their own problems—we’ve got our own. “We’ll have to leave at first light.”
Jack nodded. “Brandon and I’ll meet you at the airport at dawn.” Airport, he thought, right. It’s a one-story building and a strip of tarmac.
Hale made an odd face, like he had news he didn’t want to impart. “Actually, what I’ve got is a seaplane; it’s out at the pier. And I’m afraid it’s only a two-seater. No room for the little bloke.”
Disappointed, Jack nodded again. Brandon would’ve enjoyed coming along, he thought. Ah, well. He’s a bright kid. He’ll understand.
“I don’t understand,” Brandon said the next morning in the hotel room.
He had been asleep by the time Jack finally got back. He and Hale had talked to the police chief some more about the various sightings, all of which were indeed eerily similar to Brandon’s quick glance the day before. Then they’d gone to Hale’s bungalow to hastily map out an itinerary for their flyby.
Jack outlined the game plan while he tossed a few items into a backpack. Brandon was thrilled right up until the part when Jack told the boy he couldn’t come along.
“This isn’t fair,” Brandon continued. “I always get to go along with you on stuff.”
“I know—I’m sorry,” he said, meaning it. “But Doctor Hale’s plane is just a two-seater.”
“How come when you need me I’m your ‘assistant,’ but when you don’t need me, I’m just your kid?”
Jack shook his head. Brandon was so mature, so capable, that sometimes Jack forgot that he was still a twelve-year-old boy. I should’ve known better than to expect a grown-up reaction. He’s a kid—how would a kid react to this?
He thought back to himself as a twelve-year-old, and how he felt on vacations with his family. Usually, the parts he looked forward to was when they’d go off to do something he thought was boring and they’d leave him alone to fend for himself. So let’s try that approach.
“You’ve got a whole day to run around the island on your own. No responsibilities.” No money, either, he remembered, then fished in his pocket for cash, pulling out a ten-dollar bill. Luckily, American currency was good on Malau—indeed, Paul had said the day before that the local merchants preferred American dollars to Malauan ones. “You can
“Jibes with what Kulani said,” the chief put in. “She said he hit his head on the skis as he fell in.”
“We’ll need to ship the body to Kalor for a proper autopsy. However, I can tell you for sure that the blood loss was due to several bites all over his body.”
Hale asked, “What kind of bites?”
“That’s the weird part,” Alyson said, blowing out a breath. “I have seen bites from every type of animal known to this island and its surrounding waters, and I have never seen anything that matches this.”
Jack turned to the president, an expectant look on his face. To his mind, Alyson’s report simply confirmed that the waters should be closed until he could investigate.
If the gravity of the decision weighed heavily on President Moki, he didn’t show it. Jack had the crazy thought that he’d never want to play poker with the man. He simply looked thoughtful for a moment, then said, “Very well. For the time being, no sea craft are to sail from Malau’s shores.” He turned to Joe. “See to it.”
The chief nodded and moved off to his jeep.
Derek threw up his hands. “I don’t bleedin’ believe this! Manny, this is nuts, we—”
“I have made my decision, Derek,” the president said, his calm inversely proportional to the fisherman’s anger.
Hale stepped between Jack and the two other men, as if to say, Let these two hash out their own problems—we’ve got our own. “We’ll have to leave at first light.”
Jack nodded. “Brandon and I’ll meet you at the airport at dawn.” Airport, he thought, right. It’s a one-story building and a strip of tarmac.
Hale made an odd face, like he had news he didn’t want to impart. “Actually, what I’ve got is a seaplane; it’s out at the pier. And I’m afraid it’s only a two-seater. No room for the little bloke.”
Disappointed, Jack nodded again. Brandon would’ve enjoyed coming along, he thought. Ah, well. He’s a bright kid. He’ll understand.
“I don’t understand,” Brandon said the next morning in the hotel room.
He had been asleep by the time Jack finally got back. He and Hale had talked to the police chief some more about the various sightings, all of which were indeed eerily similar to Brandon’s quick glance the day before. Then they’d gone to Hale’s bungalow to hastily map out an itinerary for their flyby.
Jack outlined the game plan while he tossed a few items into a backpack. Brandon was thrilled right up until the part when Jack told the boy he couldn’t come along.
“This isn’t fair,” Brandon continued. “I always get to go along with you on stuff.”
“I know—I’m sorry,” he said, meaning it. “But Doctor Hale’s plane is just a two-seater.”
“How come when you need me I’m your ‘assistant,’ but when you don’t need me, I’m just your kid?”
Jack shook his head. Brandon was so mature, so capable, that sometimes Jack forgot that he was still a twelve-year-old boy. I should’ve known better than to expect a grown-up reaction. He’s a kid—how would a kid react to this?
He thought back to himself as a twelve-year-old, and how he felt on vacations with his family. Usually, the parts he looked forward to was when they’d go off to do something he thought was boring and they’d leave him alone to fend for himself. So let’s try that approach.
“You’ve got a whole day to run around the island on your own. No responsibilities.” No money, either, he remembered, then fished in his pocket for cash, pulling out a ten-dollar bill. Luckily, American currency was good on Malau—indeed, Paul had said the day before that the local merchants preferred American dollars to Malauan ones. “You can
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