Philip K. Dick, "The Penultimate Truth"
(This is part 16 of an 18-part story, which begins here. Part 5 is here. And here is where you find part 10. Part 15? Right here. And the end of this entirely too long story is located here. After that, you�re on your own.)
I know, I know, I just railed against science fiction, yet here I am with another science fiction novel. This came in at the same time as the other Philip K. Dick novel that I read, I knew I wanted to do the next group of books alphabetically by title and I didn�t have anything that started with the letter �P.� Of course that�s a pretty piss poor excuse to pick up a book considering how many I have left to read, but whatever.
As it turns out, I shouldn�t have bothered. This was very similar to the Neuromancer book I had recently finished � meaning I couldn�t care less what happened. Hell, I can barely remember what happened.
But I�m also distracted, because we�ve made reservations for me to go on a catamaran sailing trip, which includes an hour and a half of snorkeling in an area not available on foot. Snorkeling is the one thing I was really looking forward to, but what with my dad�s injury and his antiquated underwater equipment, we hadn�t been able to do any at all since I arrived.
We got up early the next morning to go to the check in -point, which happens to be a half block away from his house. Our check-in time is at 6:15 a.m. There are no hotels to speak of in this area, and since the only way to this side of the island involves riding along the side for a trip that on average takes an hour, I was looking the most refreshed out of anybody.
Since most people have driven here however, they�re not sure what to do with me after I check in. Everybody else is instructed to drive to the pier (which is all of three blocks away). Since I didn�t drive to the check-in point, they let me slide in with a special shuttle bus that is utilized to pick guests up at their hotel and bring them to this side of the island, at premium fees, of course.
Since my father is still crippled, he decides that he�s going to stay home, and I�m on the tour by myself. I climb into the van, and I hear the people behind me murmuring amongst themselves, but I don�t pay any attention.
The boat tour, for the most part, was great. I�d climbed enough hiking trails and seen enough of the side of the mountains that aside from a few appreciative glances, I didn�t pay attention. But what I had never been around in any sort of close proximity before, were dolphins.
And dolphins kept swimming up to the boat, utilizing the boat cutting through the water to give them an extra push, like riding downhill with the wind. We pass pack after pack of these dolphins as they swam along, but none of them really did much more than ride alongside of the boat. I think other people were disappointed that they weren�t juggling balls or honking the Beethoven�s fifth symphony on bicycle horns, but I was happy enough to just watch them swim along.
Really, what I wanted to do was leap out of the boat to try and hang out.
Other people seemed to be getting bored, and they moved away from the front deck. I stayed where I was, wedged in between two bars at the front end, face leaning over the deck to watch. Suddenly, five feet in front of me, a lone dolphin shot straight out of the water, spinning around at least two times before he crashed back into the waves.
Somebody near the middle of the boat pointed and yelled, which brought everybody scrambling to the front deck once again. Before they had reached the deck though, the lone dolphin had tired himself out, leaping and spinning two more times. I believe I have pictures of this, but we�ll have to see if they come out. When the rest of the crowd reached the front deck, my dolphin had switched back to the typical slow glide for air, which everybody groused about as they headed back for comfortable seating.
There are seven different boating tour companies that leave from the same harbor. Ours seems to be the one that leaves the earliest, and in the distant horizon I can see three other boats following behind. For the most part, this gives us first dibs, but as we slow down to accommodate picture taking of the dolphins, the boats all start to get much closer, all jockeying for prime real estate. The captain of our boat notices this, and abruptly takes off quicker than I think some people would like, trying to reach the next cool spot before it�s taken over by a competitor.
Eventually, once he�s put enough distance between us and the other boats, he slows to point out the dozen or so heads of sea turtles popping out of the water. He asks if we want to stop here for snorkeling. We do. While one crewmember starts to hand out fins and masks, another leaps out of the boat to secure the anchor. When he finishes, he slips to the side while the other customers gather around the storage area to get gear. I know it will take a while before I get my gear, so I wander along the side of the boat.
I see the second crewmember near the rear, throwing his hands toward the water. I angle closer to the side to see what he�s doing.
He�s throwing food into the water, something that�s known as �chumming�, which is done when you want to attract sharks.
Great.
But the food he�s throwing is dried bread, not the bloody meat that throws sharks into a feeding frenzy. Still, it strikes me as dishonest. I finally get my gear and jump into the water. With all the tours that come through here, the fish are apparently very tame. But the problem is, frankly they�re TOO tame.
I get into the water and there�s a hundred flat gray fish, each as big as my foot, swimming in a pack, all headed straight for me. In fact, I seem to have jumped in the water directly at the point where the last bit of food was thrown in, so they�re practically shoving me aside to get to the food. Fish do not feel good against your bare skin, and it doesn�t take long before I�m frantically trying to swim away from them, yet they�re fucking FOLLOWING me! I�m literally kicking at fish trying to get them to back away.
Eventually they do back off, and I�m left alone. And alone is the key word here. Aside from the occasional lone fish taking dabs at the coral, there is nothing here. Nothing at all. What the hell happened to all the sea turtles?
I continue swimming looking for some sign of life, when I eventually hear a shrill whistle. Knowing that was a signal for the crew, I look back at the boat and see one lady waving at me to come back toward the boat. I sigh into my snorkel and do so. It doesn�t take long before I�m passing the gauntlet of gray fish again. I swim quickly, trying to get past them as I see one nip at the bathing suit of another passenger. Not more than five minutes pass, when I hear the whistle again. I look back at the boat, and again, they�re telling me to come back.
�This sucks,� I think to myself as I swim away from the boat and the shore. There�s nothing but these stupid gray fish that act like they�re trying to jump me into their gang, and other than the occasional colored fish that�s too far away to get a picture of, there�s nothing here. I should have jumped out of the boat with the dolphins when I had the chance. Hell, I should have rented my own boat and came out by myself, it probably would have been cheaper...
What the hell was that?
I look further down, concentrating on the distance straight down rather then the normal line of sight in front of me. And directly underneath me, probably 20 feet below are three huge sea turtles barely noticeable because at their depth the colors of their shell mixed with the coral. I moved very slowly, only enough to keep me from sinking, and while one of them took off, the other two started moving again, coming closer to the surface.
I can only think they did this because I moved slow and was far enough away from the boat. It didn�t take long before I had one turtle on each side of me, both less than five feet away, and the three of us moved lazily through the water. At one point I heard a buzzing sound and looked up, only to see a rafting boat approaching, but still over 200 feet away, and moving further from me. I hung out with the turtles, still gliding slowly along the water. Or at least that�s what I did until something grabbed my shoulder.
I jerked up quickly, not knowing what had just happened. The third crewmember was there next to me, still holding onto my shirt.
�Didn�t you see that fucking raft?� he yelled at me.
�Yeah, I saw it,� I replied after I had removed my snorkel gear.
�Well, he didn�t see you, I thought that boat was gonna take your head off!�
�Well, he didn�t, and he wasn�t going to. I saw him.�
�In any case it�s time for you to move back.�
�It�s time to go in?� I asked.
�It�s time to get closer to the boat.�
I looked down into the water again. The turtles were gone. I headed back to the boat, where the gray fish were waiting. And I was so sick of the gray fish that I got out of the water.
