Leviathan

EPILOGUE

The presidential yacht was riding lazily at anchor in the Gulf of Mexico. Senator Lee, looking dapper with his captain's blue cap and even more regal with Alice sitting next to him, were conversing in low tones about her retirement, which was only months away.

Everett, Mendenhall, and Ryan were up front doing something silently, only looking back once in a while with suspicious looks on their faces.

Jack, Sarah, Niles, Virginia, and the president of the United States were standing at the oak transom, looking down into the water.

"If they are down there, why don't we ever see them?" the president asked.

"With our lousy track record, would you want to take that chance if you were a symbiant?" Niles asked his old friend.

"No, I guess not."

"Mr. President, getting the gas and oil leases canceled in the gulf waters is a start."

The president looked from face to face. "Yes, but I had to cave in on the Arctic tundra drilling to get it done — still robbing Peter to pay Paul." "We do what we can. Science will figure a way to help them," Sarah said hopefully. "The Heirthall papers should solve a lot of our problems."

"The children?" Jack asked.

"The State Department is using every resource to track down their next of kin, but it looks like they are truly orphans. I've set aside a small sum to keep them all together."

They all grew silent as Virginia looked over into the green gulf waters.

"I'm worried. Since the syms' release, our new SOSUS microphones haven't picked up any sounds from the bottom — either here, or in the Mariana Trench. I hope they aren't sick."

"I wouldn't worry about that," Everett said as he approached the group, wiping his hands on a rag. "The navy is monitoring everything that goes into the gulf waters. If they catch any pollutants whatsoever, the FBI will hunt the offenders down, and since the president got it passed through congress that it is a capital offense, I think the days of dumping chemical waste into the seaways are over."

"I hope you're right," Virginia said sadly.

"Well, if you people aren't a sorry sight to behold," Everett said seriously. "Here we are on a calm and peaceful sea, and you're moping around like you lost your dog."

The president looked at Colonel Jack Collins with his brows raised, then back at Captain Everett.

"I believe you've broken into my private wet bar," the president said with a mock frown.

"If Colonel Farbeaux has taught us anything, it's never to stand on ceremony when a drink is to be had. By the way, sir, it is my understanding that your wine cellar has quite a way to travel to meet up with the quality of Captain Heirthall's."

"So I understand."

Suddenly, loud music blared from the dining salon of the presidential yacht. The Supremes belted out the song "You Can't Hurry Love," and to everyone's astonishment, a very drunken Ryan and Mendenhall danced out of the dining salon wearing women's bathing suits, lip-syncing the words to the song. Their hand gestures were like those of the Supremes in their heyday.

The loudest laughs came from Garrison Lee and the president as they watched the two men shimmy and dance their way toward Jack and Sarah with a nervous looking Secret Service team following, ready to shoot the two men. Before Jack could react, Sarah, embarrassed beyond belief, simply smiled and pushed the two lieutenants over the side of the yacht and into the warm gulf.

The music continued to play as Everett doubled over in laughter, and that was the reason he never saw Jack gently raise his foot into the air, sending him to join his fellow pranksters.

Soon, they were all laughing at the struggling men splashing and trying to get out of the water.

A quarter of a mile away, the dark blue eyes of a symbiant breached the surface of the gulf and watched the men as they struggled aboard the presidential yacht. With eyes blinking against the glare of the southern sun, the sym arched its back and dived back into deep water.