“They’re really the most extraordinary creatures in the world,” Laurie Smith, one of Alex’s four assistants, piped up. Had she simply stopped speaking, Alex wondered, forcing Laurie to chime in? Actually, Alex was glad Laurie had spoken up. Alex had been afraid that she was beginning to look like a bored tour guide, which wasn’t the case at all. She had worked with a number of animals during her career. She had never found any as intelligent, clever and personable as dolphins. Dogs were great, and so were chimps, but dolphins were magical.
“You never feel guilty, as if the dolphins are scientific rats in a lab—except, of course, that entertaining tourists isn’t exactly medical research.”
That came from the last member of the group, the man to whom she needed to be giving the most serious attention. Hank Adamson. He wasn’t as muscled or bronzed as David and John, but he was tall and lithe, wiry, sandy-haired, and wearing the most stylish sunglasses available. He was handsome in a smooth, sleek, electric way and could be the most polite human being on earth. He could also be cruel. He was a local columnist, and he also contributed to travel magazines and tour guides about the area. He could, if he thought it was justified, be savage, ripping apart motels, hotels, restaurants, theme parks and clubs. There was something humorous about his acidic style, which led to his articles being syndicated across the country. Alex found him an irritating bastard, but Jay Galway, manager of the entire Moon Bay facility, was desperate to get a good review from the man.
Adamson had seemed to enjoy the dive-boat activities the day before. She’d been waiting for some kind of an assault, though, since he’d set foot on the island. And here it was.
“The lagoon offers the animals many choices, Mr. Adamson. They can play, or they can retire to their private area. Additionally, our dolphins were all born in captivity, except for Shania, and she was hurt so badly by a boat propeller that she wouldn’t have survived in the open sea. We made one attempt to release her, and she came right back. Dolphins are incredibly intelligent creatures, and I believe that they’re as interested in learning about our behavior as we are in theirs.” She shifted focus to address the group at large. “Let’s begin. Is there any particular behavior you’ve seen or experienced with the dolphins you’d like to try again?”
“I want to ride a dolphin,” the boy, Zach, said.
“The fin ride. Sure, we can start with that. Would you like to go first?”
“Yeah, can I?”
She smiled. Maybe the kid wasn’t a demon after all. Dolphins had a wonderful effect on people. Once, she’d been given a group of “incorrigibles” from a local “special” school. They’d teased and acted like idiots at first. Then they’d gotten into the water and become model citizens.
“Absolutely. One dolphin or two?”
“Two is really cool,” David said quietly, offering a slight grin to the boy.
“Two.”
“Okay, in the water, front and center. Fins on, no masks or snorkels right now,” Alex said.
The others waited as the boy went out into the lagoon and extended his arms as Alex indicated. She signaled to Katy and Sabra, and the two dolphins sleekly obeyed the command, like silver streaks of light sliding beneath the water’s surface.
Zach was great, taking a firm hold of each fin and smiling like a two-year-old with an oversize lollipop as the mammals swam him through the water, finishing up by the floating dock, where they were rewarded as they dropped their passenger. Zach was still beaming.
“Better than any ride I’ve ever been on in my life!” he exclaimed.
“Can I go next?” one of the girls asked. Tess. Cute little thing, bright eyes, dark hair. Zach had been trying to impress her earlier. Tess opted for one dolphin, and Alex chose Jamie-Boy.
One by one, everyone got to try the fin ride. John Seymore was quieter than the kids, but obviously pleased. Even Hank Adamson—for all his skepticism and the fact that he seemed to be looking for something to condemn—enjoyed his swim.
Alex was afraid that David would either demur—this was pretty tame stuff for him—or do something spectacular. God knew what he might whisper to a dolphin, and what a well-trained, social animal might do in response. But David was well-behaved, looking as smooth and sleek as the creatures themselves as he came out of the water. The only irritating thing was that he and John Seymore seemed to find a tremendous amount to talk about whenever she was busy with the others. Then, during the circle swim, David disappeared beneath the surface for so long that the two parents in the group began to worry that he had drowned.
“Are you sure he’s all right?” Ally Conroy, Zach’s mother, asked Alex.
“I know him,” Alex told the woman, forcing another of those plastic smiles that threatened to break her face. “He can hold his breath almost as long as the dolphins.”