The Storm

Kurt knew this to be true from Halverson’s last report.

“When he stopped e-mailing, I got worried,” she added. “When he didn’t answer the satellite calls, I contacted NUMA. And when no one there would tell me what was going on, I flew here and sought out the harbormaster. He told me about the salvage. Told me people from NUMA were coming to check it out. I thought maybe you were here as a search party, but then I saw the boat and …”

She grew quiet, looking down at the floor. Kurt expected tears, and a few of them seemed to be coming, but she kept herself under control.

“What happened to my brother?” she asked finally.

Kurt remained silent.

“Our parents are gone, Mr. Austin. He’s all I have … all I had.”

Kurt understood. “I don’t know,” he said. “That’s what we’re trying to find out. Any idea who those men were?”

“No,” she said. “You?”

“No,” Kurt admitted, though any doubts he had about the catamaran’s troubles being accidental were fast disappearing. “When did Kimo last contact you?”

She looked back at the floor. “Three days ago, in the morning.”

“Anything unusual in the message?”

“No,” she said. “Just what I already told you. Why?”

Kurt glanced around the small alcove of an emergency room: staff members were busy, patients waited, there was the occasional electronic chirp or pinging bell. Calm, quiet, orderly. And yet Kurt sensed danger lurking somewhere.

“Because I’m trying to figure out what those men might have gained from kidnapping you. To begin with, we only suspected foul play before. Now we can almost be certain of it. And if you don’t know any more than we do …”

“All Kimo sent me was the base data. I’m sure you have it too. Even if you didn’t, taking me wouldn’t hide it.”

She was right. But that meant there was even less reason for someone to stage such an attack.

“Are you going to look for them?”

“The police are looking for them,” Kurt said, “though I’m sure they’re long gone. My job is to figure out what happened to the catamaran and its crew. I’m guessing they found something out there that someone didn’t want them to find. Something more than temperature anomalies. If that leads us to the men who attacked you, we’ll deal with them then.”

“Let me help you,” she said.

He’d been expecting her to say that. He shook his head. “It’s not a science project. And in case you couldn’t tell, it’s likely to be dangerous.”

She pursed her lips as if stung by the comment, but instead of lashing out she spoke calmly: “My brother’s gone, Mr. Austin. You and I both know that. Growing up in Hawaii, you learn the power of the ocean. It’s beautiful. It’s dangerous. We’ve lost friends before, surfing, sailing and diving. If the sea has Kimo in its arms, that’s one thing. If some men put him there because of what he found, that’s far worse to me. And I’m not the kind to just let it be.”

“You’re going through a lot,” he said. “And it’s probably going to get worse before it gets better.”

“That’s why I have to do something,” she pleaded. “To take my mind off it.”

Kurt had no choice but to be blunt. “In my experience, you’re going to be unstable whether you have something to do or not. That can have an effect on the whole team. I’m sorry, but I can’t have someone like that tagging along for the ride.”

“Fine,” she said. “But plan on seeing me out there anyway because I’m not going to sit around and grieve.”

“What are you saying?”

This time she was blunt. “If you won’t let me help, I’ll continue to investigate on my own. If my search messes yours up, I guess that’s just too bad.”

Kurt exhaled. It was hard to be angry with someone who’d lost a family member, but she was pushing him toward it. He guessed she meant every word. The problem was, she had no idea what she was getting into.

The doctor walked in carrying the X-ray films. “You are going to be okay, Ms. Ta

“You see,” she said to Kurt, “I’m tough.”

“And lucky,” he replied.

“Nothing wrong with having luck on your side.”

The doctor stared blankly, confused at the conversation he’d walked in on. “I also think luck is a good thing.”

“You’re not helping,” Kurt mumbled.

He was trapped. He could hardly dump her off on her own after what just happened. Nor could he have her locked up for her own good or deported back to Hawaii, where she might be safe. It left him only one choice.

“Fine,” he said.

“I won’t cause any trouble,” she said.

He smiled at her through gritted teeth. “But you already are,” he assured her.

Twenty minutes later—to the horror of the medical staff—Kurt helped Leilani climb onto the damaged Vespa. With far more caution than his first trip on the machine, he rode her back to the other side of the island.

They arrived intact. Kurt promised the stricken guard that his scooter would be repaired or replaced by NUMA and offered his watch as collateral.

The guard eyed it suspiciously. Kurt wondered if he realized the watch was worth twice what a new scooter would cost.

With Leilani at his side, Kurt stepped back on board the catamaran and introduced her to the Trouts.

“And this is Joe Zavala,” he added as Joe came up from below the deck. “Your new best friend and chaperone.”

They shook hands.

“Not that I’m complaining,” Joe said, “but why am I her new best friend?”

“You’re going to make sure nothing happens to her,” Kurt said. “And, more important, that she doesn’t cause any problems for the rest of us.”

“I’ve never been the chaperone before,” Joe said.

“First time for everything,” Kurt said. “Now, how are we doing?”

“Power’s back up,” Joe said. “Battery is pretty low, but the solar panels and the wind turbine are carrying the load.”

“Did we find anything?”

Paul spoke first. “Once Joe got the power back on, I was able to access the tracking mode on the GPS. They kept to a westerly course until a little after eight p.m. on the last night they reported in. Then the course and speed become erratic.”

“Any idea why?”

“We think that’s when the incident occurred,” Paul said. “The sail was partially burned in the fire. Losing its shape would change the boat’s profile and speed. Looks like it began to drift.”

“Where were they when this happened?”

“About four hundred miles west-southwest of here.”

“What else?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary on the ship’s log or in any of their notes or computer files,” Paul said. “But Gamay found something of interest, as usual.”

Kurt turned to Gamay.

She held up a glass beaker with an inch of charcoal-colored water in it.

“This is the residue left behind by the fire. I mixed it with distilled water. In most cases, soot is primarily carbon. And while there’s plenty of that in this sludge, it’s also carrying a strange mix of metals: tin, iron, silver, even trace amounts of gold. And a strange speckling that’s quite hard to see.”

Kurt looked closely at the water in the beaker, there was an odd, almost iridescent shimmer to it.

“What’s causing it?”

Gamay shook her head. “None of my equipment was strong enough to tell us. But they had a microscope on board. Once Joe got its power on, we photographed the samples. Whatever it is, it’s moving.”

“Moving?” Kurt repeated. “What do you mean moving?”

“It’s not inert,” she said. “The carbon and the residue are still, but something on or within the residue is still active. Whatever it is, it’s so small, we can’t make it out under a microscope.”

The news seemed to make Leilani uncomfortable. Kurt thought about tabling the discussion for later, but this was the deal: it was going to be uncomfortable, and if she couldn’t handle it, now was the time to realize that.

“Are we talking about a bacteria or some other microorganism?” Kurt asked.