Ocean: The Sea Warriors by Brian Herbert, Jan Herbert Read Free Book Online Page A

wearing a watch?”
    “I am.”
    “Will twenty minutes underwater without breathing equipment impress you?”
    “If you remain close to shore where I can observe you continuously, confirming for myself—and for my subscribers—that there are no tricks. I’ll document it.” He grabbed a video recorder out of his truck.
    Alicia and Kimo submerged themselves in the warm, shallow water and remained in the shallows, keeping their heads under. She wore a diving watch, enabling her to see the minutes and seconds ticking away.
    Finally, after the allotted time passed, she tapped Kimo on the shoulder, and they resurfaced.
    “You passed that test,” Waimea said.
    “I’ll take the time to prove something else as well,” Kimo said, “my ability to heal wounded and sick sea creatures. Unfortunately, I do not see any nearby.”
    “There’ll be time enough for that,” Jimmy said. “Now, let’s go to my office for a chat.”
    During the drive to Waimea’s office at the high school, Alicia sat in the middle of the pickup’s front seat, holding her backpack on her lap and listening while Kimo and Jimmy talked.
    “I am very impressed by the cause you wish to promote,” Waimea said, “the welfare of the ocean. I have long thought that people were abusing the waters of the world. To a large extent we don’t see it in our beautiful paradise here, but there have long been troublesome signs, and I have not been alone in noticing them.”
    “We brought our list of names,” Kimo said.
    “Yes, the names that came to you in dreams,” Jimmy said. “It appears that some extraordinary, paranormal, events have been occurring around the two of you.”
    Waimea’s office was in the journalism shack between the main high school building and the football field. As they entered the one-story, metal-roofed shack, two young female students looked up from their computers and smiled, before resuming their work.
    “My top students, copyediting the next edition,” Jimmy said, as he led the way into a small, glass-walled office, and closed the door behind them. “We sell thousands of copies online, and print more for mailing and delivery.”
    “Sounds like quite an operation,” Alicia said, taking a seat in one of two folding chairs fronting the desk, while Kimo took the other.
    Jimmy smiled.
    “My cousin is overly modest,” Kimo said, “but he wins journalism awards year after year. Where do you keep your plaques and trophies, Cousin?”
    “No room for them in here. Awards are nice, but I don’t dwell on them.”
    “Jimmy still prints the Honolulu Mercury News, even though your grandfather tried to drive him out of business. He survived by combining it with the student publications in his journalism classes, and by contributing all profits to the high school. There’s no way to shut Jimmy down now. The school board gives him the freedom to write and say whatever he wants.”
    “Well,” Jimmy said, “there are limitations. No pornography or bad language, of course, and no tabloid journalism. We cover serious local, national, and international events.”
    His computer beeped, and he paused to examine the screen. “An editing question from them.” He nodded toward the two young women outside his office. After tapping the keyboard for a minute at a furious pace, he spun the computer away on its carousel and said to Kimo, “Now, shall we begin?”
    Jimmy listened while Kimo and Alicia described their plan to recruit volunteers for a big demonstration in the Hawaiian Islands, using sea creatures to shut down all of the major beaches. This was more than Kimo had previously told him. They showed the newspaperman the list of names of ocean experts from around the world, and the additional background information they had obtained.
    “We’re worried about them thinking we’re kooks,” Alicia said. “Can you come up with a way to boost our credibility before we contact potential recruits? Can you publicize our cause and our