This is a fantasy tale, somewhat in the same vein as the episodes of Voyage that had leprechauns and ghosts - not to mention mermaids. Just consider it another very Alternate Universe. J

Just Another Hole in the Wall

by Storm

Lt. Commander Chip Morton looked out through the windshield of his rental car at the lowering greenish-black clouds to his southwest and felt a growing sense of unease. Lightning flashed repeatedly, stabbing at the earth below, accompanied by the incessant rumble of thunder. The rising wind brought with it heavy curtains of fat raindrops that were starting to swirl across the road in front of the car, closing in his field of view. Leaves and twigs torn from the trees took flight, plastering themselves against anything in their path, including the windshield of his car. He thumbed the wipers to their highest speed and let off on the gas, but found that the rain had become heavy enough to still obscure his view. Letting the car slow even further, he cracked the door window for a better look and caught the odd sharp scent of ice on the wind.

He didn’t like it one bit.

Having grown up in northern Illinois on the edge of the Great Plains, this kind of weather was something he had occasionally encountered as a child. The smell of ice in the wind this time of year could only mean one thing - hail. He cast a wary eye over his left shoulder again at the clouds and swore silently to himself. Although it was difficult to make out through the rain, the rotation of the clouds was increasing and the bottom layer was still dropping. He amended his earlier thought - hail and a tornado were probably in the offing. A car on the road was no place to be in these conditions. His gaze swept the areas adjacent to the road, looking for a place to pull off and take shelter.

Movement on the road ahead caught his eye as he rounded a curve. Vehicles. Lots and lots of vehicles. All turning onto a small road that led off to his right. He couldn’t help gaping in astonishment as he saw fire trucks, ambulances, patrol cars - city, county and state! - all pouring down the lane and disappearing into the woods. Intermingled with them were crowded school buses, cars, pickups, pickups pulling stock trailers crammed with horses and cattle, three tow trucks and even a couple of eighteen wheelers. They were obviously fleeing something; he cast another glance back over his shoulder and glimpsed the black cloud starting to elongate towards the ground. Probably the storm, he decided. Well, since they were local, that meant there must be a place down the lane where they could take shelter. Just what he was looking for. Picking up speed he hurried down to the turnoff just in time to fall in at the rear of the procession.

It was a bumpy ride. The heavy trucks ahead of him had churned the gravel lane into an uneven morass and hail began to fall - hail that was rapidly getting bigger and more prevalent. At least the speed was slow enough that he could keep up even if he had to abandon the car and follow on foot. The only question in his mind was how far they were going, for as he glanced back into the rearview mirror, he saw that the funnel behind had touched down and was starting to grow. It was also appeared to be heading straight for the spot the convoy now occupied.

The lane curved to his left, revealing a low bluff ahead that was only slightly higher than the treetops. He could see the vehicles ahead disappearing into a black hole at the base; it had to be a cave. Heaving a sigh of relief, he picked up the pace, closing the gap between his car and the pickup ahead.

BANG! He flinched as a softball sized hailstone slammed into the hood, making the car bounce and leaving a dent the size of a dinner plate. If that had hit the windshield… He shuddered and crowded the truck ahead of him a little closer. Another sharp bang as another large hailstone impacted on the roof and then his car was inside the entrance to the cave. He blinked, blinded by the sudden darkness and hastily flipped on the headlights as he frantically braked to a halt. Looking out he realized that what he’d thought was a cave was actually a tunnel - and the vehicles that had entered ahead of him were moving away from him. He licked his lips uncertainly. He had no idea where this tunnel led to; even more uncertain was his reception at the other end.

The rattle of debris against the rear of his car jerked him upright, breaking him out of his ruminations. He was too close to the entrance. With reluctance he put the car in motion again, once more following the vehicles ahead, but at a cautious distance.

The lights ahead vanished. Morton’s heart leaped into his throat as he once more brought his car to a quick stop. Turning off the headlights, he realized that there was still light ahead; the tunnel had apparently taken a sharp turn. Heaving a relieved sigh, he sternly told himself that he was getting spooked for no reason. Putting the car back in motion, he crept forward despite the prickling hairs on the back of his neck.

As he eased around the turn he found himself looking down into an enormous cavern with a soaring arched ceiling - and a vast, eerily glowing lake. With a submarine floating serenely just offshore from the nearest beach.

Morton’s mouth fell open in shock as he braked his car to a sudden halt. He could see heads down below turning to look and realized that his actions had just revealed him to be a stranger. The prickle on the back of his neck spread down his spine. Glancing behind as he reached down to shift the car into reverse, he abruptly froze in consternation. The tunnel that had been behind him was gone; there was now a solid rock wall just behind the rear bumper.

Trapped.

He swiveled back to look again at the people below. None of them appeared to be moving towards him, though he could see many of them pointing in his direction and putting theirs heads together in anxious conversation. He licked his suddenly dry lips. Surely they wouldn’t be considering…

A sudden tap on the window jerked his attention back to the car. Alarmed, he twisted frantically around to the door and realized there was a figure standing there. For a brief instant he felt panic, but a second look showed him the woman that stood there didn’t appear to be armed. Not that she needed to be, he thought to himself. He wasn’t going anywhere. Taking a deep breath and getting a grip on his jittery nerves, he gave the woman outside a thorough inspection.

She wasn’t tall, but she was broad and he could tell that not much of it was fat. Her hair and eyes were gray - exactly the same shade of gray as the rock around them - and her clothing was all in shades of gray as well. He couldn’t help a shiver, for it appeared to him that she wasn’t entirely human; his first thought was that she must be at least part dwarf - of the mythological kind. She grinned at him and motioned for him to roll the window down.

After a momentary hesitation, he complied. With no exit, a confrontation wasn’t going to get him anywhere and he doubted the car would provide much protection.

“It’s not often we get strangers here,” she said to him, putting out a hand. “I’m Shenandoah Stonesinger and this is my property. Most folks just call me Stoney.”

Morton gingerly took the offered hand. “Lt. Commander Chip Morton.”

The woman’s eyes gleamed. “I thought that’s who you were,” she stated with obvious satisfaction. “I’m a great admirer of Admiral Nelson.”

Morton felt his eyebrows climbing into his hairline. An admirer of the Admiral? Most of the mythological and supernatural types he’d ever encountered before would have been happy to have the Admiral’s liver for lunch. Along with the rest of the crew. On the other hand… He looked back down to the lake where the submarine floated. The boat did bear more than a passing resemblance to Seaview. She noted the direction of his gaze and laughed.

“Sojourner,” she told him, pride evident in her voice. “Crafted him myself.”

“Him?” Morton turned back with a puzzled expression. Ships were usually referred to as she.

Stoney gave him a wry smile. “I know most ships are considered feminine, but, well, I’ll introduce you and you’ll see why he is appropriate in this case.”

“Introduce me?” This was getting weirder by the minute.

“Yeah.” The woman actually looked slightly embarrassed. “Earth Elementals like me aren’t usually in the business of creating things, so we don’t have a lot of practice at it. So when we do get the urge, sometimes the results can be … interesting. I was trying to make a computer and … let’s just say that Sojourner somehow wound up with a mind of his own.”

Morton looked back down at the submarine. This had gone beyond weird, but he had to admit that his curiosity was growing. “If you’re sure it won’t be an imposition.”

“Heck no, Commander. It’ll be nice to be able to talk submarines with somebody. Most folks around here think I’m a bit daft for building one.”

“Er… speaking of folks around here - are they all like you?” He sure hoped not. One Elemental was plenty.

“Oh, no.” Stoney grinned at him. “They’re human, like you.”

That was some small comfort. “Er… do they know what you are?” Personally he couldn’t see how they wouldn’t know, but stranger things had happened.

“I suppose they do,” she admitted. “I don’t rub it in, but I don’t keep it a deep dark secret either. Most of them just prefer to ignore it. It doesn‘t fit in with their world view.”

Obviously they didn’t inhabit the same world he did, Morton thought wryly to himself. In the three years he’d been XO aboard Seaview, he’d encountered far too many creatures and beings that weren’t supposed to exist to have any illusions left. His expression must have reflected his thoughts for Stoney placed a hand on his arm and said, “Commander, the entities you have encountered on Seaview don’t represent the majority of my sort of beings. Most of us prefer to live quiet lives, just like anybody else. The ones that go out and stir up trouble for humans tend to be troublemakers among their own kind as well.”

“How do you know about that?” And just exactly how much did she know about the boat?

She sighed. “We share information and news, just like your people do. We try to keep track of the troublemakers so we can minimize any damage they may do.” She gave him a sideways look. “Of course, when they’re foolish enough to cross swords with your Admiral, there’s frequently nothing left of them to sweep up. Only the ones who are crazy or stupid try anything with Seaview. We make a point of trying to deal with as many of them ourselves as we can, but every once in a while one still gets through. Sorry about that.”

Morton shook his head, not quite believing what he was hearing. On the other hand, he had commented on a couple of occasions to Lee Crane that it seemed like a lot of the entities they’d encountered weren’t - as Sharkey would put it - the sharpest tools in the shed.

“I guess that makes your people not all that different from mine,” he admitted. “And crazy or stupid does accurately describe the ones I’ve seen.” He shrugged and glanced back down at the crowd below. Most of them had begun to settle, now that it appeared Stonesinger had things in hand. “I guess I should drive down and join everyone else, shouldn’t I?”

“It would probably make them a lot less nervous.” She walked around the front of the car to the passenger’s side and let herself in. “Especially the Sheriff.”

“We can’t have that, can we,” he answered in bemusement. Stoney chuckled and Morton found himself not only losing his fear, but discovering that he liked this particular Elemental. She seemed to have a wry sense of humor that matched his own - and it was obvious that she loved submarines as much as he did.

The drive to the lakeside was short, but Morton found himself the object of much scrutiny. When he parked the car next to the small boat drawn up on the shore, he found himself confronted by a tall dark haired man in a tan uniform with a badge on his chest and a pistol at his side. He reminded Morton a great deal of his captain, except for the startling blue eyes. This had to be the sheriff.

Stoney confirmed it. “Sheriff Carl Hines, this is Commander Chip Morton from the Seaview. I’m going to give him a tour of Sojourner. ”

The sheriff’s face was a study in contrasts. It was obvious that he had heard of Seaview - not a stretch given what was floating in the lake behind him - but it was clear he couldn’t decide if this was good news or bad news. Morton kept his own face cheerful - it wouldn’t do to antagonize the man. He put out a hand, giving the sheriff little option but to shake it, or appear obviously rude; he suspected that most folks around here would far prefer to NOT antagonize Stoney, despite the fact that she appeared to have made herself a part of the community.

“I’m happy to meet you, Sheriff,” Morton told the obviously disgruntled cop. “I sure was glad to see that convoy obviously headed for shelter.”

Hines gave the Elemental a sour look as he unenthusiastically shook Morton’s hand. “You seem to be taking all of this better than most folks would,” he drawled.

What to tell him? Morton decided a partial truth would probably serve best. “Stoney isn’t the first, ah, person like her I’ve ever come across. Seaview has encountered a lot of things most people would dismiss as legend and fantasy.” There was no point in telling him that most of those creatures and assorted entities had been dead set on destroying the boat and her crew.

A startled look flickered in Hines’ eyes, followed by a dawning respect. “I see. In that case, welcome to McDonald County, Commander.” He paused briefly, then added, “You’re a long way from the ocean.”

It was now obvious to Morton that the sheriff had feared that Morton’s encounter with Stoney would produce unwanted and possibly messy repercussions. The fact that his boat had encountered such things before and kept them secret had come as a huge relief to the other man, but it was clear he was also wondering just what had brought the Seaview’s executive officer to the Ozark Plateau on the western edge of Missouri.

Morton didn’t see any point in not telling him. “The airliner I was on had a mechanical problem and was forced to make an emergency landing at Highfill. And because of the weather there wasn’t going to be anything headed in the direction I needed to go until tomorrow. They told me I could probably get a flight out of Joplin, so I called my boss to let him know what was going on and he said to head north. If I couldn’t get a commercial flight, he’d send somebody for me. So I rented a car and here I am.” He glanced over at Stoney. “I’d probably better let him know I’ve been delayed, or he’ll have everybody from the FBI on down out hunting me.”

The sheriff’s expression plainly said he’d just as soon not have to explain either Shenandoah Stonesinger or Sojourner to any agency of the US government. Which was pretty much Morton’s sentiment as well, so on that subject he and Hines were in perfect accord. A glance at Stoney’s expression confirmed that it was a pleasured she’d just as soon forgo as well.

“I’ve got some communications equipment on the boat you can use to call,” Stoney hastily told him. “With the weather, the phone lines will probably be down and it’ll take a while for everything to get put back to rights - this is a fairly rural area, after all.”

Morton nodded. Stoney headed for the small boat; it looked a great deal like a Zodiac, but he wasn’t quite sure what it was made of, for it didn’t look like rubber. For one thing, it had an iridescent sheen that completely changed color every time he looked at it from a different angle. He was suddenly reminded of the scene from the movie The Wizard of Oz and the Horse of a Different Color. Well, he supposed this was another of Stoney’s Craftings that hadn’t come out quite right. Or perhaps it had. He had to admit that the effect was rather striking.

As the boat headed out into the lake, he became aware that Sojourner’s hull displayed a similar effect. However, rather than all the colors of the rainbow, the color play over the sub’s hull appeared to be limited to dark shades of blue, green and black. It was definitely different. Nor was that the only unusual characteristic that the boat displayed. As they drew closer, he could see that the hull actually looked like the skin of a marine creature. There were no seams, no welds, no rivets; the entire hull was smooth and seamless. Now that, he had to admit, was impressive.

The Zodiac - for he couldn’t think of any better designation for it - bumped gently up against the side of the sub. As he wondered how they would get aboard, a ladder simply extruded itself from out of the hull in front of them. Morton’s mouth fell open in shock. It was only when he heard Stoney’s chuckle that he collected his wits about him enough to reach for the ladder and clamber aboard. He couldn’t resist reaching out to feel of the hull on the way up. To his astonishment it wasn’t smooth; rather it felt very much like sharkskin - and it was slightly warm to the touch.

Once on the deck, he gave an experimental hop, testing the firmness of the material that formed the surface of the hull. Like the skin it resembled, it was pliable. Not so much perhaps as a living animal, but far more than even the experimental exteriors Nelson had been experimenting with. He looked around for a hatch. None was immediately visible, but as he further examined the exterior of the boat, one formed in the side of the sail. Stoney led the way through as he followed. As he glanced back on the way down the ladder into the control room, he saw the hatch disappear. He couldn’t help but shiver and fervently hoped that his feeling that he could trust Stoney wasn‘t misplaced.

“Sojourner.” Morton stopped on the last rung of the ladder as Stoney called out. There was a sudden prickling at the back of his neck as a feeling of being scrutinized swept over him. She’d said the boat had a mind of his own. He hadn’t dreamed she’d meant that the boat was itself a living entity.

For that was what Sojourner was. There was absolutely no doubt in Chip Morton’s mind that the boat was as intelligent and free willed as he himself was. He cleared his throat.

“Lt. Commander Chip Morton, SSRN Seaview. Permission to come aboard?” He addressed the boat, not Stoney.

The feeling of scrutiny changed to one of approval. “Permission granted, Commander Morton,” responded a male voice out of the air. Or maybe it was in his mind. Morton wasn’t sure at this point. He took the last step off the ladder to the deck and looked around.

The control room was unlike anything he’d ever seen before. Well, he noted to himself, it wasn’t like the boat actually needed one. He had no doubt that most of the time Stoney simply told Sojourner what she wanted done, leaving the boat to decide how to execute those requests. And he was pretty sure they’d be requests, not orders. The feeling of power behind Sojourner’s mind was unmistakable even to him and didn’t feel in any way subservient. Most of what he saw here was instrumentation that would let Stoney see what was going on outside, rather than control mechanisms. He had to admit privately to a certain amount of envy.

“Soj,” Stoney was speaking to the boat again, “Commander Morton needs to call his boss and let him know that he’s been delayed getting to Joplin by the weather.”

“Sure,” responded the boat. “I’ll set up a relay for you. Got a phone number?”

“Ummm, yeah.” Morton rattled off the number to Nelson’s executive secretary’s office. Soj? He guessed that was easier than saying Sojourner all the time.

After three rings Angie answered. “Nelson Institute, Admiral Nelson’s office, Angie Barkley speaking.”

“Angie, it’s Chip…,” he began.

“Chip! Where are you?” she demanded. “The OOM has been pacing the floor.”

“Ah, about halfway to Joplin from Highfill. The Admiral told me to drive up there and try to catch a flight on to Hartford.” Morton’s tone was puzzled.

“That was before he found out the whole trip was a setup by the People’s republic to try and grab you for information about the new sonar system.”

“What?!”

“When you called to say the plane had made an emergency landing and would be late, he called Admiral Jenkins in New London to let him know and found out nobody there even knew you were supposed to be coming. He‘s got the Flying Sub on the way with Lee, Pat, Ski and Sharkey. They’re afraid the plane being forced down might be part of the plot and that they might be following you.”

Morton turned startled eyes to Stoney. Surely the whole county wouldn’t be involved in such a plot? Could they?

The Elemental was looking thoughtful, which eased Morton’s fears. “Commander,” she told him, “if there are any people in this county who don’t belong here, I can find out for you.”

“Who is that there with you?” asked Angie, anxiety coloring her voice.

“One of the locals,” responded Morton. “I had to take refuge when a tornado developed.”

“Oh.” A pause. “Are you sure they‘re safe?”

Morton reflected for a brief second on where he was before answering. “If they’re part of the plot, we may as well all just surrender now.”

“What was that, Commander?” Nelson’s voice filled the air, worry making him sound gruff.

“Admiral,” he gulped, thinking frantically about how to explain where he was.

Stoney came to his rescue. “He means, Admiral, that he took refuge in what for all practical purposes is the county storm shelter. There’s several hundred people here. If these enemies of yours could gather up that many people and stage a tornado to drive him in here, they’ve got numbers and technology this country couldn’t hope to counter.”

There was a pause. “And you are?”

“Shenandoah Stonesinger, Admiral Nelson. Better known to my neighbors as Stoney. I happen to own the property where most of the folks in this part of McDonald County go to ground in bad weather. Your Commander Morton simply followed them all in when the storm hit. And before you ask, he‘s the only stranger here. Everybody else is local. If there was anyone following him, they lost him in the storm, because he was the last one in.”

“If there is a tornado, I‘m surprised he was able to call out,” said Nelson, still sounding unmollified.

Stoney gave a small cough. “Er, well, I have an unusual setup here because I frequently work with the local law enforcement.”

“Indeed? Are you a police officer?”

“No, I’m a civilian - but I’m something of an expert in certain … fields.”

Morton had to stifle a laugh, because he certainly didn’t want to try and explain to the Admiral why he found that statement funny. Having met Sojourner, it had occurred to Morton that Stoney probably could get information simply by asking the rocks. Literally. It might not be evidence admissible in court, but knowing what had really happened could go a long way towards a cop being able to find evidence that was. No wonder Hines didn’t want the Feds coming in and causing problems. With Stoney to back him up, he probably had very little in the way of local crime he couldn’t solve.

Nelson didn’t - quite - humph at her reply. “Very well. I’ll trust your judgment then, Mr. Morton. When the weather clears, call me back so I can tell Commander Crane where to find you.”

“Aye, Sir.” What else could he say?

As Sojourner broke the connection, he looked over at Stoney. She and the boat were apparently deep in conversation; he had a feeling they’d just put out a personal APB on any possible foreign agents lurking about. Shaking his head, he couldn’t help but wonder how the Admiral was going to react to this when he finally found out.

The search didn’t take long. “There are three men who appear to be the ones Admiral Nelson was concerned about who took refuge under a bridge about three miles back south from the turnoff. My information is that right now they bear a more than passing resemblance to drowned rats. And their car looks like a losing entry from a demolition derby.” She gave him a grin. “Soj has informed Sheriff Hines, who even as we speak is making a discrete call to an FBI agent in Joplin who is … ah …. aware of the status quo down here.

Morton couldn’t help but grin in return. “The Feds will come get them then?”

“Actually, Agent Banks will confirm your Admiral’s story, then have Carl and his deputies make the bust as soon as the storm clears enough for them to safely do so.” She gave a shrug and added, “I make Agent Banks nervous as a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs, but he likes the results Carl gets.”

“I’ll bet he does,” rejoined Morton dryly. He’d be willing to bet on it - Shenandoah Stonesinger was the sort of informant most cops would just about kill for. “So now what do we do?”

“Nothing,” answered Stoney as she leaned back in her seat. “Carl and Agent Banks both prefer I maintain a low profile, which suits me to a T. I have no desire to have a bunch of idiot scientists who don’t believe creatures like me exist coming in here trying to prove I don’t. Or a bunch of even more lunatic religious types convinced I’m some kind of ‘demon’ trying to exorcise me from this world. And above all I don‘t want scientific types who are convinced I exist to try and study me.” She gave a theatrical shudder. “I’ll pack Sojourner up and leave.” Her tone was emphatic.

Having dealt with more than one idiot scientist aboard Seaview, Morton couldn’t help but laugh. “I do know what you mean about the science types,” he said with a wry tone. “For people who are supposed to be so smart, too many of them can really be brainless about some things. I‘ll warn the Admiral not to bother you, but you know he‘ll be curious. I don‘t want to lie to him or Captain Crane about what happened.” He sighed as he added, “Lee can always tell when I‘m not being completely honest, so I‘d rather not even try.”

“Well, if you absolutely have to tell them about me, try to downplay my role in all this.” She looked rueful. “So long as Admiral Nelson doesn’t tell anybody else and doesn’t expect me to perform tricks like some kind of trained animal, I suppose having him come and visit wouldn‘t be too bad.” Brightening, she added, “In fact, I wouldn’t mind comparing notes on some things with him. Provided you’ll come too to keep him in hand.” She gave him a small grin. “And speaking of such things, since the good sheriff has things in hand with our enemy agents, why don’t Sojourner and I give you the grand tour?”

“Sounds like a plan to me.” Morton’s grinned in delight as another seat morphed out of the deck. He settled himself and watched with wide-eyed fascination as Sojourner began to move through the water - and passed straight into the solid rock wall of the cavern as easily as Seaview cut through the waters of the oceans.

He was impressed, and a bit intimidated as well, as he watched solid stone swirling on the view screens like it was liquid. The kind of power Stonesinger wielded was nothing short of awesome…. and she’d said there were others of her kind. Which led him to the question - with all their power, why weren’t they running the world? Did he dare ask?

Before he could find the courage to put the question into words, an odd shimmering yellow barrier appeared in the distance. He felt Sojourner slow to a stop as all the hairs on the back of his neck stood up and tried to crawl. There was something about that obstruction that just looked dangerous. The fact that Stoney had brought her boat to a halt rather than charging right up to it seemed to confirm his instincts.

“What is that thing?” he asked.

“A fault,” she responded, frowning. “It’s active - and it’s not supposed to be.”

“A fault? As in earthquakes?”

“Indeed. Although this isn’t a very big one. You‘d barely feel it one the surface even if it went off.” She shrugged, adding, “I’ll put a shunt on it to drain off the stress, then we’ll go in a different direction.”

“You can’t go through it?”

“Oh, we could, easily. But that might trigger it.”

“Oh.” Morton sat back, looking thoughtful as he watched Sojourner spin out a greenish gold ‘rope’ that wove one end of itself into the yellow. Once firmly attached, the other end detached from the boat and groped downwards, heading out of sight. As the ’rope’ lengthened, he could see currents of yellow flowing from the fault into it.

“Where will it end up?”

“Hmmm. Oh, the shunt? In the mantle. It’ll take a couple of weeks to drain off the stress energy, but doing it any faster could also trigger a quake.”

“Could you do something like that with the San Andreas?”

Stoney snorted. “Not a chance. That one could eat me and Sojourner for lunch and never even burp. Far too much energy for me to handle. The only way we could even cross it would be to run through the soil at the surface and pull in all our energy as tight as possible.” She gave him a sideways glance and grinned. “I suspect somebody would notice if we did.”

Morton laughed. “I bet they would too. And probably blame it on Admiral Nelson and Seaview.” At least that meant there were limits on her powers. He had to admit that was something of a relief. “So does that mean there aren’t any Earth Elementals in Southern California?”

“Actually, the entire West Coast is full of them, because there’s plenty of energy to feed on. You’ll seldom see them though, because with that much ambient energy, they have no need to convert themselves to matter and mingle.” At his perplexed expression, she chuckled and said, “Energy conservation. Matter is the lowest energy state in the universe. And most of my folk can do the E=mc² equation in reverse. But I gotta tell you, M=E/c² is a helluva lot harder to do than the other way around.”

“Is that why you…?”

“Only partially. I could go east to the New Madrid Fault Zone and be like most of the rest. But I like people. I like music and art and books and all the creative things that people do.” She paused for a moment, looking reflective. “Because my people are energy entities, we don’t procreate the way you do; we evolve as individuals. I guess I’ve evolved more than most of the rest - I’ve acquired curiosity and a desire to learn.”

“How many are there like you?” This was all new information to him; he’d have never dreamed anything quite like Stoney existed despite - or perhaps because of - his previous encounters with the odder beings the universe had produced. Perhaps he should have realized that they might not represent the majority of their kind any more than the human wackos that Seaview seemed to attract represented the preponderance of humanity.

“Worldwide? Probably no more than five hundred. A couple of thousand more who could if they wanted or had to. Perhaps two hundred thousand of slightly lesser intelligence that are strictly energy forms. The really stupid got eaten by their fellows before the dinosaurs ever roamed the earth. If more people knew about what we really are, I suspect we would be on the Endangered Species List.” She reflected for a moment. “Well, sensible people would put us there, but the religious lunatic fringe would probably put out a bounty on us. Anything that threatens their perception of the universe and their place in it - which they are firmly convinced is at the top - is a threat as far as they’re concerned.”

Morton chewed thoughtfully on a fingernail. He could see why she was rather wary of strangers - which made her reaction to him all the more puzzling. “Aren’t you afraid I might be a threat? You’ve never met me before today.”

“Nah.” Stoney gave him a genuine smile that was echoed by Sojourner’s deep chuckle. “Your reputation precedes you. I’ve heard good things from another of my folk whom you’ve worked with before.”

“Somebody I’ve worked with?” He blinked in bewilderment; he’d worked with an Elemental and hadn’t even known it? “In the Navy or at the Institute?”

“A former employee at the Nelson Institute. In fact he helped me design Sojourner.”

“He?” Morton quickly ran through his mind all of the former employees who might know enough about submarines to help design one - and the list was extremely short. And suddenly realized who it had to be - and why he’d left.

“Curley Jones.” His mouth formed a round O of astonishment. “The Admiral invented a device to detect energy fields that he wanted added to the security systems. Curley resigned just before it was installed.”

Stoney nodded. “Curley is a water Elemental. With the problems the Seaview had had up to that point, he wasn’t eager to be exposed. He did tell me he thought Admiral Nelson would have accepted the idea of what he was, but he was afraid if anybody else found out there’d be big problems both for himself and your Admiral. Especially from COMSUBPAC. He figured Jiggs Starke would have a cow - and the calf too.”

Morton had to ruefully agree. “Admiral Starke can be ….” He searched for a suitable word.

“Excitable?” offered Stoney, one eyebrow cocked in question.

“Er, I guess that’ll do,” admitted Morton, not wanting to call one of his superior officers an idiot - even if sometimes he was - while wondering just how much Curley had told her. “But if Curley is a water Elemental, how did you meet him?”

“In Mystic, Connecticut. It’s easier for me to cross the faults in the eastern half of the continent, because they aren’t nearly as active as those on the west coast, especially if I drive or fly like anybody else. Unlike a lot of my kind, as long as I don’t try to use my powers, I can go just about anywhere. So I travel to New England on occasion, particularly to some of the old seaport towns. I knew what Curley was the first time I laid eyes on him, just like he knew what I was. He was a bit surprised to see someone like me prowling the decks of a tall ship, even one moored to a pier. Intrigued him too. We got to talking - and, well, the rest is history as they say.”

Morton could only shake his head. It did, however, explain how a man as - for lack of a better word - rotund as Curley was had been the best damn diver on the Seaview. They’d often teased Curley about being a Selkie, never dreaming that they weren’t that far from the truth! Made him wonder about the Captain though…. Nah, he didn’t really want to know.

Sojourner made a throat clearing sound, drawing their attention. “Sheriff Hines just radioed that he has the three men in custody and a search of their car revealed that they clearly were enemy agents and had every intention of kidnapping you, Commander Morton. He also said there was evidence they did sabotage the plane to force it down - however the pilot didn’t land where they thought he would. Apparently they thought he’d land much further south in Fort Smith and had laid plans to snatch you at the airport there - seems they didn’t realize that a new regional airport had been built in Highfill or that it was closer. They had to scramble to try and catch up with you and never quite succeeded. He also said to tell you that he’s heard from your Captain Crane and that the Flying Sub will be landing at the local airstrip in about thirty minutes. I believe from what he said your Captain expects you to be there.”

Morton closed his eyes and groaned. “Is there time to get back so I can get my rental car and get to this airstrip?”

“No,” came in unison from both Sojourner and Stoney. “But I can call and have somebody there drive it for you, while we take you directly there,” said Stoney. “We should have just enough time.”

“Thanks.” He heaved a sigh of relief. This had been an adventure he was going to have to give considerable thought to on just how he wanted to divulge the details of. He sank into his seat, thoughts turned inward as the submarine angled away from the fault and turned north. He felt the energy levels rising; a glance at the view screens showed that the boat was running a great deal faster through the earth than it had been before.

They made it with only moments to spare. One of the local county road crew supervisors had barely pulled his rental car to a stop in front of the lone hanger located to one side of the small dirt strip when Morton heard the familiar whine of FS1 in the distance. He heaved a sigh of relief, for Sojourner’s sail had just vanished below the surface of the soil only feet from the side of the hangar. Fetching his bags from the trunk of the car, he walked out a few feet away from the building so Crane would be able to see him. As he expected, the Flying Sub circled once, just barely visible through the bottoms of the clouds, checking the place out. Morton knew from past experience that every sensor FS1 possessed would be probing the scene below. He just hoped Stoney had taken Sojourner deep enough that he wouldn’t show on any of the instruments.

Apparently she had. FS1 pivoted and came to a hover directly in front of the hangar where Morton stood. No sooner had the craft settled firmly on the ground than the aft hatch opened and Lee Crane, wearing his gunbelt, stepped warily out, followed by Pat and Ski, who had rifles at the ready. Morton shook his head. They must not have told Lee the villains were in custody. He waved an offhand salute at Crane, their secret signal that all was well, and saw the dark haired officer visibly relax.

“Geez, Lee, didn’t they tell you they caught the three who were after me?” asked Morton.

“There could have been more no one knew about,” pointed out Crane tartly. Well, if it had been anywhere else, Morton admitted to himself, but not here, not with Shenandoah Stonesinger and Sojourner on the prowl. He shrugged. No point in getting into that just yet. He figured once they got back to Santa Barbara, and he had Crane over for a couple of six packs of beer and an extra large pizza or two, that he could safely broach the subject of his recent host and not get his ears pinned back. Then after he’d gotten Lee calmed down, they could figure out how to broach the subject to the Admiral.

“I suppose that’s true,” he told his friend and captain, “but the law enforcement here is very efficient.” Crane gave him an odd look. “It’ll be good to get back to Santa Barbara, though, The people here are nice enough, but the weather doesn’t have much appeal.”

Crane narrowed his eyes and glanced skyward. Morton could tell from his expression that Crane knew there was more going on than met the eye, but it was also obvious that another line of thunderstorms was approaching from the northwest. The rumble of not so distant thunder punctuated the thought.

“Speaking of the weather, we’d best be going, Mr. Morton. The Admiral is waiting to hear from you.” Crane’s voice had that note in it that plainly said ‘There’s something going on here Mister and I want to know what it is.’

Morton sighed to himself as he carried his bags aboard FS1 and stowed them. Maybe he ought to try and talk Crane into that pizza and beer before they got back to Santa Barbara. Otherwise it was going to be a very loooong flight.

END?