Dolphin Island

That might be true, thought Johnny. But it looked as if it was still a lot of fun now—and he intended to share it.

Chapter 7

The hydrofoil launch Flying Fish came scudding out of the west at fifty knots, making the crossing from the Australian mainland in two hours. When she was near the Dolphin Island reef, she retracted her huge water skis, settled down like a conventional boat, and finished her journey at a sedate ten knots.

Johnny knew that she was in sight when the whole population of the island started to migrate down to the jetty. He followed out of curiosity, and stood watching on the beach as the white-painted launch came cautiously down the channel blasted through the coral.

Professor Kazan, wearing a spotlessly white tropical suit and a wide-brimmed hat, was the first ashore. He was warmly greeted by a reception committee in which technicians, fishermen, clerical staff, and children were all mixed up together. The island community was extremely democratic, everyone regarding himself as the equal of everyone else. But Professor Kazan, as Johnny soon discovered, was in a class of his own, and the islanders treated him with a curious mixture of respect, affection, and pride.

Johnny also discovered that if you came down to the beach to watch the Flying Fish arrive, you were expected to help unload her. For the next hour, he assisted an impressive flow of parcels and packing cases on its way from boat to “Stores.” The job had just been finished, and he was having a welcome cool drink, when the public address system asked him if he would kindly report to Tech Block as soon as possible.

When he arrived, he was shown into a large room full of electronic equipment. Professor Kazan and Dr. Keith were sitting at an elaborate control desk, and took no notice of him at all. Johnny didn’t mind; he was too fascinated at what was going on.

A strange series of sounds, repeated over and over again, was coming from a loud-speaker. It was like the dolphin noises that Johnny had already heard, but there was a subtle difference. After about a dozen repeats, he realized what this was. The sounds had been slowed down considerably, to allow sluggish human ears to appreciate their fine details.

But this was not all. Each time the string of dolphin noises came from the speaker, it also appeared as a pattern of light and shade on a large television screen. The pattern of bright lines and dark bands looked like a kind of map, and though it meant nothing to Johnny’s untrained eye, it obviously conveyed a good deal to the scientists. They watched it intently every time it flashed on the screen, and occasionally they adjusted controls that brightened some areas and darkened others.

Suddenly, the Professor noticed Johnny, turned off the sound, and swiveled around in his seat. However, he did not switch off the picture, which continued flashing silently and steadily with such hypnotic rhythm that Johnny’s eyes kept coming back to it.

All the same, he made the most of this first opportunity of studying Professor Kazan. The scientist was a plump, gray-haired man in his late fifties; he had a kindly but rather distant expression, as if he wanted to be friends with everyone, yet preferred to be left with his own thoughts. As Johnny was to discover, he could be excellent company when he relaxed, but at other times he would seem to be somewhere else altogether, even when he was talking to you. It was not that he bore much resemblance to the “absent-minded professor” of the popular imagination; no one could be less absent-minded than Professor Kazan when it came to dealing with practical matters. He seemed to be able to operate on two levels at once: part of his mind would be coping with the affairs of everyday life, and another part would be wrestling with some profound scientific problem. No wonder, therefore, that he often appeared to be listening to some inner voice that no one else could hear.

“Sit down, Johnny,” he began. “Dr. Keith radioed about you while I was over on the mainland. I suppose you realize just how lucky you’ve been?”

“Yes, sir,” answered Johnny, with considerable feeling.

“We’ve known for centuries that dolphins sometimes help humans to shore—in fact, such legends go back for over two thousand years, though no one took them very seriously until our time. But you weren’t merely pushed to land; you were carried a hundred miles.

“On top of that, you were brought directly to us. But why? This is what we’d very much like to know. I don’t suppose you have any ideas?”

Johnny was flattered by the question, but could do little to answer it.

“Well,” he said slowly, “they must have known that you were working with dolphins, though I can’t imagine how they found out.”

“That’s easy to answer,” Dr. Keith interjected. “The dolphins we’ve released must have told them. Remember, Johnny recognized five of them from photographs I showed him when he first arrived.”

Professor Kazan nodded.