All around, men worked and yelled. And beyond them all, the beautiful blue ocean.
"Water, water everywhere," Babcock said. He tried to avoid looking at the sea.
He walked a little farther, each droplet of salt water that collected in the worry lines of his hanging face reminding him of the heaviness that was swelling beneath his belly.
The bathroom was enticing, but the view here was too splendid. All of the men working on the plan. On his plan. He couldn't go now. He'd tough it out a little longer.
Bryce Babcock tried not to think about the pressure that was building in his bladder as he made his way down the deck.
In the stern, he noted the sadness on the faces of the men near the trawler arms. Unlike the others who were still hurrying to complete their chores, these sailors were sitting around. Waiting. They were staring into the churning white wake of the Grappler.
The men back here knew what their next task would be. And they did not revel in it. They looked up with sad eyes as Babcock approached. Fat tears streamed down long faces. Squatting on the deck, Bright Sunshiny Ralph sniffled.
"Tell us again why this is necessary?" the Earthpeacer asked the secretary when he'd stopped beside them.
"You know why," Babcock replied. "We've got to make this as authentic as possible." He placed a firm hand on Sunshiny's shoulder. "It's the only way."
"I know," Sunshiny Ralph said morosely. "It just seems so-so human." He used the word like a curse.
Babcock couldn't argue the charge. His face reflected deeply somber sympathy. It was an expression identical to his delighted look of a moment before.
"I feel your pain," Babcock intoned. "But remember, what we do here today we do for a higher cause."
There were nods among the sniffles. Though most still fought back tears, they sat more proudly, shoulders forced back, chests thrust forward.
Babcock flashed the men a dyspeptic wince that might have been a smile of encouragement before turning away.
It was time to deal with more pressing matters. The endless churning water had had a negative effect on his already full bladder. The pressure was too great to ignore any longer.
Turning from the men, he began to hurry back along the deck. He had taken barely a step before something far above caught his eye. It was framed against the azure sky of the Caribbean.
He stopped dead.
On a lone mast high above the giant ship fluttered a green flag. On it was embroidered the familiar dove-and-tree symbol of Earthpeace. Bryce Babcock's sour face collapsed as he watched the flag snap crazily at the sky.
He wheeled back on the men.
"What is that still doing up there?" he demanded, jabbing an angry finger mastward.
"Uh, dude," Sunshiny said, "we thought, you know, fly the colors till the bitter end."
"That's the first thing that should have gone, you idiots!" Babcock snapped. "Get it down from there! Now!" His baggy eyes suddenly widened. "Oh, no."
Face sick, the interior secretary glanced down at his trousers. A seeping wet stain was easing over his crotch. As he gasped in anger, warm rivulets began the remorseless trickle down the front of his thigh, dampening the band of his black dress socks.
"Dammit," he griped. "I knew I should have lined with plastic."
Shaking the growing wetness from his leg, Bryce Babcock hustled belowdecks on squishy shoes.
BY ORDER of the interior secretary, the Earthpeace flag was lowered. It was folded reverently and placed in a simple cardboard box in the hold. At the same time, the last white lapel pins were collected.
Jerry Glover had the honor of bringing the shoebox containing the insignias down below. He hid it behind the former President's cage. Sneaking a peek at the prisoner, he found that the ex-chief executive was still snoring, oblivious to all that was going on around him.
"You're gonna be in for one mother of a shock when you wake up," Jerry whispered. "This ain't no bourgeois National Review cruise."
Leaving the old man in the darkness of the damp hold, he hurried back up on deck.
The catwalk door closed with resounding finality. The noise echoed through the shadowy hold.
For several long seconds, intense silence filled the rusty belly of the ship. The only sounds were those that filtered through the Grappler's thick hull. Waves crashing. Creaking metal. Muffled shouts. Muted, distant.
Another sound. Closer. This one originating within the hold itself. So soft was it that it could have been mistaken for background noise.
A soft, urgent scratching noise. Very faint.
And this new sound issued from out of the dark cage interior.
AT THE PUERTO RICO TRENCH, the Grappler made an unexpected course alteration. Instead of turning south for the run to the southernmost tip of Africa, the ship veered northeast, aiming for the wide expanse of the Atlantic.
Scaffolding was lowered over the sides. Paint strokes removed the last of the Grappler's identifying marks. New identification numbers were stenciled in large white letters on the gunmetal-gray hull.
The men in the stern were given word to begin the task that had caused them such grief.
Nets were lowered from heavy steel arms into the churning ocean water.
Sonar in the helm was quick to locate a school of fish. In a matter of minutes, the dripping nets were hauled back up to the deck, laden with bluefin tuna. The fish were dumped unceremoniously onto the deck.
Men who had held themselves together until now broke into tears at the sight of the hundreds of fish slopping out around their ankles.
"The carnage!" Sunshiny cried. "The viciousness! Oh, the humanity!"
"Humanity is right," another Earthpeacer blubbered, wiping at his runny nose. "Fish would never kill one another for food. They don't have it in them."
Sunshiny Ralph steeled himself. "We're supposed to be a fishing boat now. We need to have something in the hold if we're stopped."
Jerry Glover sniffled, nodding agreement. "This is necessary. For the greater good."
The men waded into the pile of live fish and began to load them, as gently as possible, into a special metal sluice. The tuna disappeared down the chute, flopping moments later into the hold of the big ship.
The work went on for only a few minutes. The cries of the men, which had died down after a time, grew frenzied once more when the last of the dumped nets revealed the familiar shape of a large dolphin. The creature was dead.
Gasps went up all around.
"Oh, my God!" Sunshiny shrieked. He hopped up and down in front of the dead mammal.
"This is awful!" Jerry echoed, clutching his own throat.