AMBYSSUS | Ch. 10 - The Nautilus (Patreon)

Red was a thin man in his fifties. His skin was burned by the sun, and he smelled of water and nature. He took off his hat, revealing his bald head.

“So, what can I do for you today?”

“I would like first to take a walk by the lakeside. Would that be all right?”

“Of course, ma'am. Please follow me.”

Since the time of the flood, one week earlier, the water level had steadily decreased to more normal levels. But the still submerged trees and the lack of any beach still attested to the disaster.

“On the day of the flood, the water went as high as this,” signaled Red. There was a mark in the barks of the tree that illustrated his point.

“The preliminary report sent to the academy commented that there had been a change in the lake’s salinity. Is that correct?”

“That’s right, mam. You should have a taste. It's fresh. Sweet, even. Here, let me go get a glass for you to try..."

"That won't be necessary, Mr. Reddington."

Esther put down her bag and started pulling out boxes, bottles, and tools. She methodically collected lake water samples and started mixing them with different reagents. The water changed colors in the different vials and tubes. While the professor ran her experiments and tests, Joey poked around a little.

“Hey, Red? Is it just me, or does Jeff seem a bit strange?”

“Not my place to say, sir. I am just a humble herdsman.”

“Come on, Red. It’s just the two of us talking. Is he OK? Something seemed off about him today.”

“I guess it’s because of the flood. No one was expecting that.”

“So, you do see a difference.”

“Well, Mr. Geoffrey is a bit more… how can I put this? He is more single-minded than usual.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know Mr. Geoffrey. He has always been a good businessman. No one climbs his way out of poverty like he did without being hardworking. But he seems to be a bit more devoted to work than usual. He’s been spending every minute he can at the estate. He hasn't gone home in many days. I have spotted him spending the night in his office more than once. What’s the use of having those tracks to get home quick if he doesn’t use them?”

It wasn't the kind of answer that Joey was expecting. Was he really the only one seeing how Jeff looked strange?

“How peculiar," commented Esther.

“What’s that, ma'am?” Inquired Red.

“Have there been any sightings of dead fish coasting?”

“Should there be? It’s not like the lake drowned them”, joked Red.

“But the decrease in salinity would have. Not all species. Many species that inhabit brackish water environments can adapt to a change in salinity, but not every single one. Some more sensitive species of fauna and flora wouldn’t be able to deal with the radical change in the environment.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, mam. I guess the lake stabilized more quickly than we imagined possible. The lake leads into the ocean. Maybe they just made a run for it!"

Esther didn’t seem convinced by the theory.

“The newspaper mentioned that the last time there was a flood in Lake Grassum was over a hundred years ago?”

“Yes, mam. It’s a very rare event. First time I’ve seen something like this in all my life.”

“Why don’t you take us to your herd, Mr. Red? I want to learn more about the local ecosystem and the part that the herds play in it.”

“Most certainly. Right this way. They're resting in the pen, but we can all go out in the Nautilus to take them to graze.”

They walked back toward the compound.

“How many animals live in this estate?” Asked the Professor.

“We had three hundred until last week, but because of the crisis and the deal the boss has cut with other producers, our herd has already tripled in size. So far, we have only had manatees, but now the boss wants to branch out and is accepting dugongs, balatees, and even Stellers’ out in the ocean. I can’t hire new herdsmen fast enough. We have been all working around the clock to accommodate the newcomers.”

“Have the animals displayed any sign of sickness or discomfort after the lake's conditions changed?”

“No, mam. They're relaxed. No signs of stress. This is the middle of their reproduction cycle, and they haven’t stopped breeding either. Animals sense when it is not a good time to breed. The fact that they keep going is a good sign.”

They made it to the beach. Colorful buoys marked the outlines of the pen where the herd was kept. Occasionally, animals came to the surface to take a deep breath before they submerged again.

“Why do you keep them in pens? Are there any predators in the lake?”

“Nothing attacks an adult. But sharks try their luck with juveniles sometimes. You will only find sharks deep into the lake. The biggest concern is cattle thieves. Sometimes they try to take the beasts away.” Red spat on the floor. “Never on my watch, though.”

“I see. What about the food? What do your animals eat?”

“Sirenians eat mostly seagrass. They eat an average of 40 kg of it a day. When they come near the coast, they also love to eat pond apples or nuts falling into the water. We sometimes feed them lettuce, apples, or other vegetables if we can’t take them out to graze.” He pointed to some men dumping apples off the boat in the middle of the pen. Apple orchards were having an excellent year and could be bought at cheap prices. They were used to supplement the herds’ diet.

“You must be concerned with the decrease in the lake salinity, then?”

“Well. At first, I was. Seagrass needs salt. If the lake stopped having brackish water, we would all be ruined. It's one of the things that makes Lake Grassum the best place in the world to raise cattle. The clear waters, sunlight throughout the year, and the lake's high salinity make it a perfect place for the seagrass. But, despite our fears and concerns, it turns out that seagrass is still thriving.”

“How is that possible?”

“I am not sure you’d believe me if I told you. It’s easier if I show you. Would you like to spend the day with me on the lake, shepherding the herd?”

The professor looked at Joey. Joey nodded, consenting to whatever decision she’d made.

“That would be lovely.”

“Very good, then. Let’s get into the Nautilus, then.”

Red walked with them to a pier made up of floating platforms. In this, too, Geoffrey had shown great foresight and caution. All piers in the other producers’ estates were probably submerged. But not this floating one. The platforms were roped together and anchored to the lakebed. Despite the anchoring, the platforms still wobbled and shifted as they stepped on them. Joey and Esther tried to keep their balance, but Red walked them as if on solid ground.

“Here we are. Our Nautilus fleet. Hey, Johnny! I’m going to take the herd out for grazing. Gather the boys and the dolphins. We are going to be out for the day.”

The Nautilus was shaped like a globe. It was made of metal and wood. Two propellers hinted at how the submarine maneuvered through the water. A big window afforded a good view to the passengers of the submarine, and lanterns on the front of the vessel helped it light the bottom of the lake when it was underwater.

“Have you ever been on a submarine dive?”

Joey nodded. Esther shook her head.

“Well, don’t be afraid, professor. It’s just like riding a boat. There is enough space for the three of us in Nautilus I. It’s the biggest submarine in our fleet. Please step right in.” Red opened the door and stretched out his hand to assist the professor. She confidently jumped from the platform and made her way into the submersible. Joey followed suit, and finally, Red.

Red sat in the pilot’s seat, and Esther sat next to him for a better view throughout the trip. Joey took the back seat. Red started showing the newcomer how a submarine was operated.

“Here is the fuel gauge. Like trains and zeppelins, submarines are also powered by sirenia. Here is the boiler and the pressure valve. We want to ensure that the pressure and temperature are always above this threshold. The boiler is isolated from the hull, but despite the small space, the water around us will keep us cool, so the temperature will be quite pleasant, although it can get a bit hot sometimes.

Now here are the ballast tanks. We let water into them when we want to go down and push water out when we want to go up. The boiler powers the tanks, but there are these manual pumps in case of malfunction. We can turn the headlights of the submarine on right here. Feel free to do so if there is anything that you wish to see or illuminate. Is that clear?”

“How do you make sure that the sirenians follow you?”

“Well, they aren’t the brightest animal, but they are surely one of the meekest. They already know us and follow the submarines. We also have some help.” Red searched inside his shirt and found a small brass cylinder. He blew it. No sound came out. Shortly after, a shadow crossed the submarine's window, and a series of splashes followed. A pod of dolphins happily jumped and swam around the Nautilus. They were two meters long, slick, and with smooth rubbery skin. Their long noses and curious, intelligent eyes approached the window, looking amusedly at Red.

“Shepherd dolphins!” Exclaimed Esther.

“That’s right.” Said Red, love for the animals in his eyes. “They’ve been bred right here in the lake and have become our greatest friends in caring for the sirenian herds. The big one over there is Sunny. She is the matriarch of the group. The one with the scar is Bay. He got that from fighting off a shark.”

“Red is one of the best dolphin trainers in the lake. That’s why Jeff values him so much.”

“How would the dolphins do in freshwater?”

“Dolphins develop skin conditions if they spend too much time in freshwater. But as you can see,” he said, pointing at the pod, “they are all doing fine.”

Red pushed the lever and let water enter the ballast tanks. The submarine started diving into the water. Soon they were completely under the surface.

“Let me show you why.” Red picked up the whistle again and blew on it in a short sequence. The pod disappeared out of view. That had been the sign to round up the herd.

“How do the dolphins guide the herd?”

“Sirenians have a very good sense of hearing. The dolphins use their sonar and ultrasound to make them go where they want to. Today we're going to go as far north as we can. It’s a good thing you got here early. It will give us enough time to be back before nightfall.”

Red pushed another lever, the propellers started spinning, and the submarine moved slowly forward. As the ballast tanks filled, the submarine became fully emerged. Soon one of the dolphins moved past the Nautilus and then another. Slowly, dugong after dugong went past the Nautilus, following the direction of the dolphins.

"The lake's the best place to take 'em out to graze 'cause it's clear and transparent. Seagrass needs a lot of sunlight to grow quickly."

"Where will you take the herd to graze?"

"Where there's grass tall enough."

"Does the grass grow everywhere in the lake?"

"No. Only where it's shallow. Let's say up to 40 meters in depth. More than that, and the plants don't get enough light."

"How much of the lake is that deep?"

"Several kilometers near the shore. Then, toward the center, it gets really deep. More than a kilometer, from what I've heard."

The herd swam slowly in a peaceful and orderly fashion. They looked like a flock of birds covering the sky. Wherever Joey and Esther looked, dugongs and manatees were swimming above, under, to the sides, and all around them.

After traveling for one hour, Red found a seagrass underwater prairie meadow that he deemed worthy.

"What makes you decide where to stop?"

"This seagrass gets 5 to 6 meters in height. It's nearly full-grown. That means it's ripe for the cattle to eat it."

"I see."

“We’re here. I'll let the herd graze while we explore. There's something I want to show you.” Red blew the whistle in a short, repeated pattern, and the pod of shepherd dolphins led the cattle down to graze.

"We must go deeper to see it; it only works from certain angles. Let me see if I can adjust the Nautilus just right..."

A series of maneuvers followed, with Red slowly filling more of the tanks and spinning the submarine. Finally, after several attempts, he found what he was looking for. He pointed to it, excited.

"Look. Over there! Can you see it?"

The water seemed to be split in two, one deeper and darker, the other lighter and clearer.

“It can't be. Is that…?” pointed Esther to the window, wide-eyed.

"Let's go. See what happens when I cross it." Red guided the submarine through the border between the two. It felt like they were breaking the water's surface, but they were going from one type of water to the other.

“A halocline!” Exclaimed Esther.

“What's that?” Asked Joey.

“It’s when water stratifies or forms layers. It's like oil and water that don't mix, but in this case, it's with different types of water. The darker, I suppose, is saltier. The more transparent one is freshwater.” Joey regarded the dolphins as they went up to the surface for air and then rushed to the saltier and more comfortable layer of water. The dugongs also seemed to be sticking to the darker strata of the water. It was uncanny.

“But why don’t they just mix?” asked Joey. "Isn't it all just water?"

“There are many forces at play that can contribute to a cline. Temperature. Salinity.” Joey noted that although the professor had started as if she would list many more factors, she was stuck at two.

“But they have always mixed. Why don’t they mix now?”

The professor paused. She didn’t know.

“Let me show you a bit more.” Red made the submarine go in a wide circle. “There! Do you see it, Professor?”

“That doesn’t make any sense.” The cline they had seen earlier was perfectly horizontal, but here, the shape of the cline grew shapeless and erratic, as if branching out. The deeper water stretched towards the surface, forming tunnels that cut through the freshwater layer.

“Could it be a current of some kind?” asked Red.

“I… I don’t know. But this explains why there haven’t been coastings of dead fish and plants. The lake didn’t lose its salt. Some force just reorganized the salt in the water.”

*

For the rest of the day, Geoffrey kept welcoming merchants, fellow producers, and representatives from the mayor’s office. Throughout the afternoon, he kept looking toward the lake, wondering how much Joey and the Science Academy professor had managed to uncover. They had been out for several hours.

After his ninth meeting of the day, Geoffrey called Debbie over.

"Sir?"

"Is there anyone else wanting to meet me?"

"Three more people, sir."

"Did they make an appointment?"

"They did not."

"Ask them to return tomorrow. Tell them I have a meeting to go to."

"I'll do so, Mr. Geoffrey."

"Thank you, Debbie."

It was enough for the day. It was surprising how much his hospitality was essential to the next step of the day. But it was mid-afternoon, and, truth be told, he didn't want to be here when Joey and the professor returned. He felt almost embarrassed to admit it. After all, Joey was his close friend. Maybe he should just have a heart-to-heart conversation with him. Geoffrey began feeling his mouth go dry and overwhelming anxiety. He reached for the jar filled with lake water and drank it in big gulps. So refreshing. Where was he... oh, yes! He was about to leave toward the stables.

He couldn’t take his Mercury 3000 on this next errand. It was too conspicuous. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt for everyone to think he hadn’t left the office.

Geoffrey went to grab a horse from the stables. Geoffrey’s horse was white and glorious. His name was Avalanche. He petted him soothingly and whispered comforting words into his ears. He then jumped on him and took off. Even though machinery had its complexity and beauty, nothing could beat the sense of freedom from riding.

The sun set as Geoffrey galloped through the dusty road. All over the different ranches in the lake, workers were about to end their shifts, and many would go to Beluga Tavern. Over the last few days, Geoffrey had come here every night, asked for a cider, and tried to get a pulse of workers' morale in the competing estates.

Even though City Hall and the Producers Union tried to present a united, strong front, those more aware of the numbers of financial projections of the following months knew that their situation was dire. The maintenance costs for getting the vacuum parlors up and running again were oppressive. The fact that Geoffrey kept a man, constantly bidding for engineers and jacking up the prices even further, wasn't helping his colleagues either.

In addition, even if no more floods would come in their lifetime, legislation was surely underway to ensure a fiasco like this year’s wouldn’t happen again. Producers couldn’t afford to leave things as they were. They would have to relocate their facilities to higher ground. To worsen the situation, everything became more costly with the price of energy rising. The bills were overwhelming.

But the straw that broke the camel’s back was the deal they had signed with him. When Geoffrey had presented to his colleagues his price table, everyone had reluctantly agreed in the end and had even rejoiced at the prospect of having the legal safety of a contract. What many had failed to realize, though, was that the city hall’s lawyers weren’t particularly experienced in husbandry deals.

Geoffrey’s contract specified that all animals given to them had to be a certain weight. Many had presumed that meant that once animals were led to the estate to be vacuumed, they would stay there so that Geoffrey could get them fat again before they could be vacuumed. Too late, they had noticed the trap. The producers were the ones who had to fatten up the cattle again. Geoffrey had to be paid in premium quality stock.

This meant that, in the end, Geoffrey was making money out of one-fifth of their herds. That was twenty percent of the animals in the lake. It was too late when producers realized that the animals given as payment had to be different from those brought to be vacuumed. Nonetheless, they couldn’t even vacuum the animals if they wanted. They had no equipment to do so. Grinding their teeth, they had to do something no sane producer did: to sell fat manatees full of fuel.

In a week, Geoffrey had become the biggest cattle owner in the world, and he was involved in producing a quarter of the oil in New Lisbon. He was rich. As for the producers, they were making loss after loss. For them to lose ten percent of their herds, plus having to pay Geoffrey, all in fat plump animals, had added to the financial losses for the year. The production would decrease by about twenty percent this year while operating costs had just risen to historical records. Many producers were forced to make cuts where possible, and they had turned toward their workforce.

The next step that Geoffrey needed to follow to complete his plan depended on the discontent of his fellow patrons at the tavern.

“Hilton, calm down, man.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down, Jonah. You’re not the one whose salary just got cut in half!” said the man angrily.

Geoffrey watched with interest. He thought he recognized the man from somewhere. He called over one of the girls serving at the tables. “Can I get you anything else, sir?”

“I am fine for now. But I could use some information,” said Geoffrey, taking a shilling from his pocket. “Interested?”

The girl eyed him suspiciously. He was dressed as a ragged beggar. It was strange that he would be carrying around so much money.

“If it’s nothing weird…”

“That man, talking loudly. The one with a beard,” said Geoffrey. The girl followed his gesture and then returned her gaze to Geoffrey. “Do you know him?”

“It’s Peter Hilton.” Geoffrey thought he recognized the name.

“What do you know about him? Does he work around here?”

“From what I have heard, he is one of the best baleen craftsmen in the region.”

“Of course. Peter Hilton.” Geoffrey now remembered where he had heard the name. It was from old Red. He failed to connect the dots because Red just called him Stinky Pete. Pete, as in Peter. If that was so, from the looks of it, it was time for him to take his next step.

“Can you call him over to join me? Tell him I have a business proposition.”

Ch. 9

INDEX

Ch. 11