It's July 15th, 2022, and Sarah Walker has finally scored her dream job—working with dolphins at the Monterey Bay Aquarium Research Institute. Socially awkward and academically driven, Sarah's never found love—but when she meets a tech genius whose inventions have the chance to make her research a reality, she finds herself falling for him. Together, their work could change the world … that is, unless someone else gets hold of it first.
Disclaimer: We don't own Chuck…
Chapter 15: Release the Kraken
Our tech? Did Bryce actually think he'd played even the smallest role in what they'd created? What the hell was wrong with him?
Chuck wasn't usually a prideful person—or a vengeful one, for that matter—but at Bryce's words, he felt the acidic burn of anger sear through his veins. He might be less than secure when it came to women, but that had never extended to his professional life. He was good at what he did—great, even—and he knew it. Over the years, he'd chalked his gifts up as nature's way of righting the scales … tipping his intellect in his favor, since his social skills were so abysmal. He felt no need to broadcast his abilities, but he was confident in them—a bone-deep security that resonated to his core. Hearing Bryce offhandedly lay claim to his work made Chuck want to bash the guy over the head with the closest heavy object. Unfortunately, that happened to be his cymatics rig—and there was no way he was wasting a week's worth of hard work by smashing it against the side of this asshole's skull, no matter how gratifying that might be.
It didn't help that he was torn—both excited about seeing his tech in action and nervous that something would go horribly wrong. He'd had Morgan running virtual simulations constantly over the past few days, using all of the available data they'd amassed so far. The results had been phenomenal—but this was a real-world environment, and anything could go wrong … or be overlooked. He was hopeful that, combined with what they'd learned from the MRI, the data they derived from today's live, remote EEG would give Morgan even more insight into the dolphins' emotional states and add additional context to their vocalizations … but there were a lot of ifs involved.
Chuck wasn't worried that they'd never be able to get everything right—he just wasn't a big fan of being put on the spot. In his line of work, he was used to experimenting behind the scenes until everything came together—not putting on a damned sideshow in front of the woman he'd fallen for, her pain-in-the-ass ex-boyfriend, his brilliant sister, and an old family friend.
It was a lot of pressure under a bright spotlight—and Chuck wasn't a fan of either one.
He managed to maintain his equilibrium by reminding himself that he had an ace up his sleeve—something he'd spent the past week organizing, even though the bureaucratic red tape was paralyzing. He'd hoped it would've panned out by now, but no dice. Still, if everything went well, Bryce wouldn't have the right to say jack shit about Sarah's project—or his tech—for much longer.
That thought made him feel much better, so much so that he was smiling when he turned to face Bryce and Beckman. He caught the look of incredulity plastered all over Laszlo's face—Laz clearly thought he'd lost his mind to look so happy in the face of Bryce's possessive arrogance—but that just made Chuck's smile widen. He hadn't told his friend what he'd been up to, hadn't discussed it with anyone other than the relevant parties. As far as Laszlo knew, Bryce's attitude was going to be the status quo—and right now, Laz looked like he was itching to pummel the smug bastard.
Sure enough, as Chuck passed Laszlo on his way to make a last-minute adjustment to the rig, his friend hissed, "Just say the word, dude, and I'll toss that motherfucker in the tank. Somehow I don't think Sarah would jump in to save his ass, do you?"
It was tempting, for sure. Chuck almost lost his shit, thinking about how funny it would be to let Laszlo loose on Bryce, accidentally-on-purpose shoving the guy into the water as Chuck bellowed, "Release the Kraken." It would be wrong on so many different levels … but so worth it, especially with all the cameras rolling.
Ah, well. Soon enough, Bryce would be a non-issue … at least, Chuck hoped so. Forcing the image out of his mind, he shifted the rig to the left a little more vigorously than his adjustment required. "Probably not," he said, smiling even more brightly at the thought. "But don't worry, buddy. I've got it covered."
Laszlo eyed him in disbelief—then shook his head, as if he thought Chuck had been the one to go off the deep end. "Whatever you say."
It amused Chuck further that—though he'd never say such a thing aloud—Laz and Bryce had certain similarities. They were two alpha males who had just enough in common to chafe each other—but were different enough that Laz wanted to strangle the guy every time he opened his mouth. Maybe the part of Laszlo that was so diametrically opposed to Bryce was the same part that had so much in common with Chuck. It was an interesting insight, one he tabled for another day as Bryce strode across the dive platform, heading right for both of them.
"Incoming," Laz muttered, standing his ground.
"So, what do we have here?" Bryce said, his tone deliberately jovial—and just this side of patronizing. Next to Chuck, he could've sworn he heard Laszlo growl.
"I'm sorry," Chuck said, keeping his own voice as neutral as possible. "I thought you'd be familiar with this particular cymatics rig by now, since it's the only one we have. That, and the fact that you've seen it every day—and asked tons of questions—since we started building it."
This time, there was no mistake—Laz snorted in amusement, not even bothering to camouflage the sound, and Bryce's eyes flashed to his face, a warning clear in their depths. Chuck willed Laz to go somewhere, anywhere else … to the edge of the platform to talk to Lou, over by the door to charm Diane. Much more of this, and they were surely going to come to blows.
Then again, Chuck wasn't helping much; he hadn't been able to resist getting in that little dig.
Resolving to be a better person, he continued, "We've got hydrophones strategically placed throughout the tank and cameras everywhere, so we won't miss anything. Finn'll be wearing the EEG sleeve, so we'll be able to monitor his brain activity remotely—my sister Ellie's on top of that. When we run the tests with the Intersect, we'll need to section him off so he's separated from Echo and Eden. Since he acted so aggressively last time, we don't want to risk having that happen again. And finally, the whole show will be quarterbacked by me and my virtual assistant from right here. Any other questions?"
Damn. Maybe he wasn't a better person after all.
This time, Laz managed to turn away before Bryce saw the smirk on his face.
"No," Bryce said, clearing his throat. "It all seems very, um, comprehensive. Looks like you thought of everything. Nice work, Bartowski. I'm excited to see it in action."
"Well," Chuck said, "you won't have to wait long." He turned away to unpack the Intersect from the foam case that cradled it, uncomfortably aware of Bryce watching his every move. Did the guy have to stand so close? Why wouldn't he stop hovering?
Across the platform, he heard someone's cell phone ring. Glancing up, he saw it was Diane's. She took one look at the caller ID and held up a finger, excusing herself.
Chuck felt a frisson of irritation. Was this really the time? Honestly, what was more important than seeing the last two weeks of work come to fruition? He didn't think he was being egotistical to want Diane—who had a personal as well as a professional stake in this project—to prioritize it above whoever was on the other end of the line.
Diane was too far away for Chuck to hear exactly what she was saying, but from her tone, he could tell she was flustered. Maybe he wanted her to take this call, after all. What if it was—
She disconnected and turned to face the group. "I'm so sorry, everyone," she said, a quaver in her voice. Was it excitement? Alarm? Chuck hadn't spent enough time with her in the past decade to know for sure. "Something's come up, and I have to step away for a little bit. I apologize—I know how important this is to all of you … to me … and I'd never leave if I didn't have to. But please … don't wait on me to continue with your tests. I'll be back just as soon as I can."
Though she spoke to all of them, her eyes settled on Bryce and held. He shrugged, looking unfazed. "It's not a problem, Diane," he said, using her first name as if they were old friends. "Take care of whatever you have to … we'll be here when you get back."
Still apologizing, the Aquarium's director fled the room, clutching her phone. The door to the prep room clicked shut behind her.
"Well, then," Sarah said, with a puzzled glance in the direction of the prep room, "I guess we can go ahead and start. Chuck, are we ready?"
Would he ever get used to the warmth that washed over him when she said his name? God, he hoped not. It was a magical feeling. "Yep," he said, refocusing on the task at hand and giving Laszlo an affirming nod. "Here we go."
Laz flipped the switch to the cymatics rig, its voice coils humming to life. As soon as it was live, Chuck directed Morgan to target Finn as their first test subject, to make sure the Cypher and hydrophones were all working correctly. As Finn vocalized, the video feed from inside the Cypher was mirrored on Chuck's laptop, showing a series of multicolor, fractal-like images. The ever-morphing geometric shapes reminded Chuck of intricate, three-dimensional snowflakes. Watching them materialize, he thought—not for the first time—that they'd make meaningful pieces of artwork. How amazing would it be to capture the images that appeared on his screen when Sarah's dolphins each said her name … and then frame them for her? Anyone else looking at them would just see beautiful, detailed designs, but Sarah would know what they all meant. Maybe she could even make a print series of the different vocalizations, and sell them as a fundraiser for the Aquarium …
Bryce was peering over his shoulder, eyes wide with curiosity. With an effort, Chuck pulled himself together. "Morgan," he said, "get ready to interpret the incoming vocalizations."
"Ready, Chuck," the AI said, sounding almost as excited as Chuck felt … if such a thing was possible.
"Okay." He felt a bit like flight director Gene Kranz, sitting in Mission Control. Giddy with excitement and nerves, he almost said, 'We are go for launch,' and then rejected the idea as way too theatrical. Instead, he settled for, "Lou and Gertrude, can you give the dolphins some commands? And Morgan, make sure to correlate and cross-reference their behavior with what you observe through the cameras."
"Aye aye, Captain," the AI said, now sounding as if it was taking its responsibility very seriously indeed. Was it possible that Morgan was picking up on Chuck's geeked-out vibe … was his AI sensitive enough to do that?
He pushed his speculations away as Lou and Gertrude knelt at the edge of the platform, next to the buckets of fish they'd brought, and slapped the water to get the dolphins' attention. All three came to the side of the tank, and the trainers began to give the older two commands: stationing, or looking upward; presenting a pectoral fin for a high-five; waving; swimming through a hoop; touching their rostrums to a ball and retrieving it. Each time Finn and Echo performed a command successfully, the trainers blew their whistles and rewarded them with a fish. Chuck could hear the dolphins vocalizing, and at the edge of his peripheral vision, he saw Ellie monitoring the EEG's screen, her brow furrowed in concentration.
"Okay, Morgan," Chuck said, when this had gone on for several minutes and he was sure the cymatics rig was functioning properly. "Translate."
"I'm on it," Morgan said, and Chuck held his breath. Please work. He could care less what Bryce thought of him, but this was so important to Sarah; he could see tension in every line of her body. For her sake, he desperately wanted this to go well the first time around.
Lou gave the swim-through-hoop command, and Echo gave a series of high-pitched whistles, hesitating for a moment before she obeyed. A blue-and-green fractal image with a triangle at its center appeared on Chuck's laptop screen, and a moment later, Morgan announced: "Echo … hoop … bored."
The AI paused for a fraction of a second. "Chuck, behavioral analysis reveals that the dolphin's hesitation may potentially be correlated with her statement of boredom. Preliminary results and small sample size are insufficient to make such a generalization, but I will log this for assessment and comparison."
"That's good, Morgan." Chuck felt a smile creeping across his face again. He sucked in a deep breath of relief—and next to him, heard Bryce do the same … except in his case, it sounded like awe.
"Holy shit," Sarah's ex said. "Ask it to do that again."
Feeling irked that he was obeying Bryce's command, but seeing no other option—after all, it was what he wanted to do anyhow—Chuck said, "Morgan, proceed with the analysis."
"As you wish, Chuck."
Gertrude gave the signal for Finn to splash her; the dolphin gave a short whistle and then three long ones, a moment before he showered her with water. On Chuck's screen, a red-and-blue image appeared, featuring interlocking triangles shot through with purple swirls. "Silly … Gertrude," the AI translated. "Wet like Finn."
Bryce was practically hopping up and down with excitement. "It's working. It's really working," he said, his eyes flicking between the dolphins and Chuck's laptop. "So that … what's on the screen … it's a visual interpretation of the sounds they're making?"
The guy was slightly less annoying when he was so enthusiastic. No matter how objectionable he might otherwise be, he obviously had a passion for dolphin communication—or, Chuck thought sourly, maybe it was just for the amount of notoriety and fame that he anticipated this project's success might yield.
"It's a visual representation of their vocalization pattern, yes," he said. "Each set of whistles is unique—like a fingerprint. Morgan is able to cross-reference the data that's coming through the Cypher and the cameras with its database—and interpret what the vocalizations mean."
"That is so freaking cool." Bryce sounded like he meant it.
"Okay, Bartowski," Casey said, speaking up for the first time. "Before we get ahead of ourselves, let's go ahead and drop the gate, to separate Finn from the others. That way, when you put that Intersect thing in the water, we won't need to worry about him losing his shit again. I don't want a recurrence of the last fiasco."
"I'll take care of it," Sarah said, walking over to pull the lever that released the gate as Gertrude summoned Finn over to that side of the tank, effectively corralling him.
Eden vocalized as the gate slid shut, a series of high-pitched chirps, and Morgan translated as a red snowflake pattern appeared on Chuck's screen: "Finn … go … why? Mama … help?"
The little dolphin swam across to investigate the gate, Echo alongside her. As the older female dolphin responded, Morgan translated, "Finn … right there. Will … back come. Eden wait."
Back come? As well as things were going, the system was far from perfect. With time and repetition, Chuck was sure his AI's translation abilities would improve.
"God. That's amazing." Bryce was right next to Chuck now, staring at his screen. "Can we start sending sounds back to them through the Intersect—to see how they respond?"
"Not yet." Sarah was flanking Chuck on his other side, having returned from operating the gate. "That's when things went horribly wrong last time. Right now, we're still working on interpreting the dolphins' naturally expressive language. We'll spend some more time perfecting this process, seeing where the holes are, and get it right before we move on to anything else."
Eden was swimming up and down the length of the gate, trying to peer through it. She whistled again, and this time the image that flashed on Chuck's screen was dark blue, shot through with forest-green interlocking circles. "Eden … sad. Miss … Finn," Morgan translated. "Chuck, I believe this vocalization correlates with her repetitive swimming pattern. Preliminary analysis suggests that she is analyzing the extent of the obstacle, with the intention of eliminating it and reuniting her pod."
"Ugh," Sarah muttered, sounding demoralized. "The last thing I wanted was to stress her out. Casey, what do you think?"
"Give it time." Casey had paced to the edge of the platform and was watching Eden closely. "I'm not concerned. This is natural curiosity; she has to get used to the gate, anyhow. At least this way we have some insight into why she's behaving the way she is. And Bartowski's gadget is right—analyzing the obstacle is exactly what she's doing."
Heartened, Sarah took a step closer to the tank, just as Eden surfaced and whistled again. A yellow-and-orange fractal appeared on the screen as Morgan translated, "Mama … where … Chuck? Chuck … fix? Help Finn?"
Chuck froze. Sarah froze. They all froze. He could feel tears flooding his eyes, and blinked to try to keep them back.
The baby dolphin was asking for him. Had said his name. Thought he had the ability to make her sadness go away. He swallowed around the lump in his throat, trying to keep it together. Ellie wasn't so successful; from across the dive platform, he heard her stifle a sob.
"Finn … not in danger," Echo responded, courtesy of Morgan. "Echo … patient. Not worry. Chuck … not need to help."
The little dolphin splashed the water hard with her pectoral, reminding Chuck of a toddler having a tantrum. "Want … Chuck! Chuck … fix!"
"Oh my God," Sarah said, shock clear in her voice.
"Whoa, dude." Even Laszlo sounded appropriately awed. "Apparently, even the dolphins know what a kick-ass engineer you are."
Morgan translated further as Echo dealt with her angry offspring: "Eden … stop. Trust Mama. Finn safe. Eden nurse."
Grudgingly, the little dolphin disappeared beneath the water to do just that … proof positive that Morgan's translating skills were on point. Chuck watched the two of them, stunned into silence.
"Well," Casey said after a moment, "you've definitely made an impression on that little one, Bartowski. I think you should be the one to put that fake dolphin in the tank. Start on Eden and Echo's side; I'd rather we get some use out of it if Finn's just going to bash it to bits."
Fighting the urge to salute, Chuck lifted the Intersect out of its foam case. He carried it to the edge of the dive platform, knelt down, and released it into the water.
He'd anticipated that Eden would be afraid at first—or at the very least, cautious—but instead she swam up to it, Echo right behind her, whistling and clicking. "Careful, Eden," the female dolphin said in the voice Morgan had assigned to her. "Be careful."
Eden whistled back, sounding almost indignant. "Chuck safe," Morgan interpreted. "Toy for Eden."
The little dolphin nudged the Intersect with her rostrum, then splashed it. "Play?" Morgan interpreted as she whistled again. "Eden play?"
Next to her, Echo got her rostrum under the Intersect and flipped it over, investigating it thoroughly, as if to see whether it planned to commit the same infractions as it had before. When it remained silent, she swam beneath it as Morgan announced, "The older female dolphin is utilizing echolocation to determine the nature of the intruder."
A moment later, Echo surfaced and whistled. "Eden … right," Morgan translated. "Is toy." The AI paused. "Chuck, I take offense at this. The Intersect is far more sophisticated than a mere toy. By those qualifications, I myself could be construed as no more than a plaything."
Making his way back to the laptop, Chuck rolled his eyes. "Don't take this personally, Morgan. It's not like the dolphins know the word for AI."
Morgan was silent for a few seconds—perhaps to deliberate. "Maybe you're right," it said at last. "I'll concede the point … for now. Chuck, if I may—now that the Intersect is in the water, the full array of hydrophones are now on line and functioning. Though you cannot currently hear the dolphins—the sounds they are making are out of human range—let me draw your attention to the images that the Cypher is producing."
His screen lit up with vivid, complex fractals, more detailed than anything they'd seen before. "I believe these signals are related to their depth and object analysis, through echolocation," Morgan said. "Echo and Eden are probably trying to determine the makeup of the Intersect and what their preferred method of interaction should be."
"Man, that AI is something else." Bryce reached out toward the screen, tracing the air above the intricate pattern with his index finger. "What do you call it again?"
"Morgan," Chuck said, feeling a tendril of discomfort wind its way through the happiness that suffused his body. He had a bad feeling about where this was going.
But all Bryce said was, "Hmmm," as if thinking something through.
Chuck didn't want to give him a chance to follow his line of thought to whatever conclusion it might reach. "Morgan," he said, "take control of the Intersect and guide it slowly through the water. Don't swim toward any of the dolphins—but don't look like you're trying to avoid them."
There was another pause. Then Morgan said, sounding hesitant, "And just how should I do that, Chuck?"
He guessed it had been a little confusing. His lips rising in a grin, he looked directly at Sarah and said, "I don't know … swim casual."
He was gratified to see her smile back at him—a joyful grin that reached her eyes. "I mean, let the dolphins approach the Intersect on their own terms. You know, how Lou told me not to swim up to them the other day—were you listening when she was telling me how to act in the water?"
"Of course." Morgan sounded affronted that Chuck might think otherwise. "I will, as you say, have it swim casually."
True to Morgan's word, the Intersect began gliding slowly through the water, alongside the two dolphins, but giving them their space. Their precautions were all for naught, though, because Eden, apparently overjoyed that her toy had come to life, began chasing the mechanical dolphin. Echo followed right behind her, vocalizing again and again: "Careful, Eden! Eden, careful!"
"Chuck?" Morgan said, trepidation clear in its voice. "Behavioral patterns indicate aggression. However, vocal analysis reveals an alternative intention. Advice would be appreciated."
"Um…" Chuck watched Eden streaking alongside the Intersect, nudging it as if impatient with its speed. Through the speakers, he could hear her whistling again and again. "What's she saying?"
Sounding distinctly beleaguered, Morgan translated, "Play! Play! Play! Play!"
From his position next to the cymatics rig, Laszlo didn't even bother to suppress his laugh. At the edge of the tank, Lou giggled—and the two locked eyes. Laz was the first to glance away, and Chuck could've sworn he looked almost … shy.
That was a first—but Chuck didn't have the bandwidth or the time to figure out what the heck was going on between the two of them right now. He'd ask Laz later, when they were alone, grabbing a beer or two to celebrate. "Ummm…" He glanced over at Sarah, then Casey. "Can I tell Morgan to let 'er rip?"
Sarah nodded—and after a moment, so did Casey. "But if anything starts to go awry, pull the plug," the vet said. "I'm not taking any chances with that little one."
Chuck had no intentions of risking Eden, either … not when the little dolphin so clearly trusted him. "Morgan," he said, "activate play mode."
"Got it, Chuck." One moment, two, and then the mechanical dolphin took off, speeding through the water with Eden in hot pursuit. It breached; Eden broke the surface of the water. It dove deep; Eden pursued. It swerved left, then right; Eden mimicked its every move. The images on the laptop's screen flickered almost too quickly for Chuck to follow, with Morgan translating: "Chuck … toy … fun. Eden … friend."
They were all watching this interplay in astonishment when the door to the prep room swung open and Diane Beckman stepped out onto the platform. As mesmerized by the interaction between Eden and the Intersect as the rest of them, Diane let the door click shut behind her and walked closer to the tank, watching the real dolphin interact with the mechanical one as Morgan continued to translate: "Chuck … give Eden friend. Eden … happy. Mama … look."
On the other side of the gate, Finn was becoming increasingly restless as the Intersect zipped by again and again. "Chuck?" Ellie said, her eyes on the EEG screen. "He's starting to get aggravated—I can see it right here. I hate to suggest this when Eden's having so much fun, but I think you should turn that thing off."
Reluctantly, Chuck gave Morgan the order, and the Intersect slowed, then stilled at the water's edge. Lou, who was standing next to it, leaned down and scooped it out of the water—much to Eden's chagrin.
"Friend?" Morgan translated her whistles. "Friend … why go? Friend … back come. Eden … lonely."
"Awww," Gertrude said. "Look at that. She misses it already." Slapping the water, she summoned Finn in preparation to remove the EEG sleeve. "Chuck and Laszlo, you guys are—that was … I don't have words to describe it. I have no idea how you did this, but—if I hadn't seen it myself, I don't think I would've believed it. Good boy," she added as an aside to Finn, removing the sleeve and giving him a herring. "I can't wait to watch that footage. That was freaking amazing."
"Agreed," Bryce said as Lou knelt and tossed a fish to Eden. "I'd say that was an unqualified success. I'm proud to have been here to witness it." For once, he sounded less than smug, and Chuck had a moment of doubt about his plan. He'd been so sure it was the right thing to do—the best thing—but Bryce looked so happy…
Diane cleared her throat, looking apprehensive. The suspicion Chuck had had earlier—about who was on the other end of her call—returned in full bloom. Anticipation—and maybe a tinge of regret—sped his heartrate as Laz walked over and retrieved the Intersect from Lou, drying it off before placing it back in its case.
"Bryce," Diane said, "may I speak with you?"
"Sure." Giving a 'carry-on' sort of wave—as if he was some kind of noble and the rest of them existed to do his bidding, Bryce walked over to join her.
Chuck took it back. He didn't feel the least bit guilty anymore. He regretted nothing. The guy was an asshole par excellence.
Diane had motioned Bryce into the far corner. Once again, he couldn't hear what she was saying, but her expression looked serious, and she was gesticulating, as if to make a point.
Chuck didn't want to tip his hand—and Ellie had told him enough times how transparent his face could be—so he busied himself with cleaning up: shutting the laptop down and working with Laz to break down the cymatics rig as Gertrude retracted the gate and Sarah debriefed with Ellie. Casey and Lou were kneeling at the edge of the tank, feeding the rest of the fish to Echo and Finn, when Bryce's angry voice split the air.
"What?" he said, his face flushed deep red. "You can't do this! We had a deal."
Yeah, Chuck had been right about who'd called Diane. And it was about time, too.
"I'm sorry," Diane said, trying to keep her voice down, "but as you know, you haven't even issued the first check yet…"
"The hell with the check! We had an understanding. I came down from San Francisco for this, abandoning another project. I've been here for a week. I've invested my time and energy in this and I was about to invest a hell of a lot of money, too. You can't just let someone else snake this project out from under me!"
"Mr. Larkin," Diane continued, her patience clearly wearing thin, "this was never your project to begin with. That's not how these things work. Either way, it's out of my hands. The deal's already been finalized. You're more than welcome to invest in one of our other projects. We'd still be thrilled to have your support."
Chuck couldn't help it—he stole a glimpse at Sarah's face. Her eyes were wide, her mouth a perfect O. Laz, on the other hand, looked highly amused.
"Oh, how the mighty have fallen," he said to Chuck, sotto voce. "I don't suppose you had anything to do with this?"
"Shhh," Chuck hissed, bending over to slide his laptop into its case.
"Uh huh." Laz loaded the Intersect onto a rolling cart. "I'll shut up, but only because I don't want to miss the show."
"My support?" Bryce was shouting now, completely undone. "After losing the Jensen Foundation as potential donors, I'm sure you would. At least I was able to talk them out of working with you fucking nut jobs."
Chuck didn't know what Bryce was talking about—but Diane's mouth fell open. "You convinced the Foundation to rescind their check?"
Bryce sneered at her. "Trust me, Diane … that's the least of your problems. You don't know who the fuck you're dealing with. You'll be sorry for ever double-crossing me." With that, he stalked over to the prep room door, yanked it open, and stormed out.
Shocked silence followed in his wake. At last, Beckman broke it.
"Sarah, it looks like I owe you an apology," she said, her tone formal. "You were right about him … everything you said."
Lou, Ellie, and Gertrude, who hadn't been privy to Sarah and Diane's conflict over Bryce, looked confused. Casey, as usual, looked plagued by the necessity of dealing with other human beings and their attendant drama. Laz looked vindicated. And Chuck … he wasn't sure what kind of expression was on his face, but whatever it was, it probably revealed way too much. He tried to rearrange his features into something that resembled curiosity and expectation—but apparently this was a miserable failure, because Laz jabbed him in the ribs.
"Dude," he said under his breath, "do you play poker?"
"No," Chuck muttered in confusion, his eyes on Sarah. "Why?"
"'Cause you'd suck at it." Laz clapped him on the back, so hard he nearly knocked Chuck over.
"What just happened?" Sarah asked Beckman, her eyebrows knitted. "Did Bryce—did you just kick him off the project? What about our funding?"
"Well," Diane said, a smile curling her lips, "that doesn't look like it's going to be a problem—at least for the foreseeable future. The Sedna Foundation has just staked their claim on this project, with the caveat that they be the sole investors for a guaranteed five-year duration and the first option to renew at the end of that term. They're willing to underwrite the entire project, its operating costs and salaries, even future expansion in your area of research—contingent on the trustee's approval. It's all covered."
Pandemonium broke loose. Lou and Gertrude were cheering, and Ellie's squeal of delight almost shattered Chuck's eardrums. He didn't care about any of that, though. All he cared about was one person's reaction—and she was standing stock-still, her face white.
"I don't understand," Sarah said, sounding stunned. "The Sedna Foundation? I've never heard of them."
"I hadn't either, but they're legit. They check out, Sarah. The offer is genuine."
"But I—but—" Sarah swallowed hard, then tried again. "Are we going to take it?"
Diane's smile grew. "It's a done deal. That's the business I needed to step out of the room to take care of. The board has approved it and the first year's deposit is already in the bank."
An answering smile spread across Sarah's face. "So what you're telling me is that Bryce is gone—out of the picture. And this—what did you call it? Sedna Foundation?—is stepping up to fund the whole shebang … for five years … guaranteed. No more writing grants—just pure science. That's what you just said, right?"
"That's exactly what I said. Congratulations, Dr. Walker."
Tears of happiness filled Sarah's eyes. They spilled over, coursing down her cheeks. "Oh my God," she said, almost to herself. "Oh my God."
Watching her, Chuck felt the deepest sort of fulfillment—more satisfying than anything he'd ever experienced. He'd been able to do this—to make her this happy. He didn't care if she ever knew he had anything to do with it … in fact, it might be better if she never found out. He didn't need any credit. All he wanted was to make Sarah Walker smile just like this—even through her tears—every day, for the rest of his life.
OoOoOoOoO
"I'd like to make a toast," Sarah said, lifting her margarita glass high. "To Chuck, Laszlo, and Ellie, for spending their vacation doing such incredible work. Without you, we wouldn't be sitting here celebrating. Two weeks ago, I didn't know any of you—and now you've completely changed my life … in every way possible." Tears stung her eyes as she glanced over at Chuck. "You did this—you took my dream and made it happen. I don't know how I can ever repay you, but you bet your ass I intend to try." She reached across the table to squeeze Ellie's hand, then turned to Lou and Gertrude. "And I'd like to toast the two of you for being the best trainers a girl could ask for … for pouring your heart and soul into this project and not just going through the motions. So many people have blown me off over the years, dismissed the idea that we could talk with dolphins as ridiculous—but you never did that. None of you did." She dabbed at her eyes with a cocktail napkin. "Thank you so much for believing in me. I'm so grateful—and I still can't believe today really happened. It feels too good to be true."
"To Sarah," Chuck said in response, raising his beer stein. "The brilliant visionary who brought all of us together."
"To Sarah," everyone echoed as they clinked glasses.
It was five-thirty PM, and Lou, Gertrude, Laszlo, Ellie, Chuck, and Sarah were sitting at Segovia's Tavern, nursing celebratory drinks. The oldest cocktail bar on Monterey's peninsula, Segovia's was one of the Aquarium staff's favorite places to grab a drink after work. They'd commandeered two of the small round tables and a long bench, enough to accommodate their group of six—a lucky find, since the place was, as usual, slammed. There were so many people at the bar that Sarah could hardly see the bullfighting mural behind it—which was good, since she was opposed to bullfighting on principle. That didn't stop her from loving Segovia's, though … or savoring every drop of the top-shelf margarita that her favorite bartender, Jemma, had insisted on making as soon as she heard the news.
They'd tried to get Beckman and Casey to join them, but both had declined. Beckman wasn't usually one to socialize with her staff, and Casey wasn't one to socialize, period. Sarah couldn't think of a single time that he'd chosen to hang out with the other team members since she'd come to the Aquarium.
Well, it was their loss. She was ecstatic—and so was everyone else. Their tests had gone flawlessly. They'd been able to interpret more of the dolphins' communication than she'd ever dared to hope. Bryce was out of the picture, her project was funded for the next five years, and—best of all—she could share all of this with the man who'd captured her heart.
"I can't believe it either," Ellie said, and there was an odd tone in her voice that made Sarah give her a quick glance—but as soon as her eyes found Ellie's face, Chuck's sister smiled brightly. "I mean, it's so amazing, it's unbelievable. Unbelievably amazing, that's what I meant."
For the first time since she'd met Ellie, the neurologist sounded like her brother. She must be as off-balance as Sarah was … in the best possible way. "It is unbelievably amazing," Sarah agreed, taking a sip of her margarita. It tasted delicious—with fresh lime and the perfect amount of salt. "The really weird thing is, I've never heard of the Sedna Foundation. Have you guys?"
She directed the question at Lou and Gertrude, who shook their heads. "We don't write the grants, though," Lou said with a shrug. She drained her cosmo, setting it back on the table. "Or report to the donors. Who knows—maybe they're new."
"Yeah," Sarah said, spinning the stem of her sweating glass between her fingers, "but then how did they find out about the project? Beckman didn't seem to have a lot of information. I Googled Sedna a couple times, but I couldn't find anything—not even a 990."
"That is odd," Ellie said, shooting Chuck a glance. "Sounds like you have an angel investor."
Chuck cleared his throat, putting his arm around Sarah's shoulders. She leaned against him, reveling in his warmth. "Works for me. An angel investor for an—"
"Don't say it." Laszlo groaned. "If you guys get any sweeter, I'm gonna go into insulin shock. Anyone up for another round?"
There was an affirmative chorus, and Laszlo pushed his chair back from the table, taking care not to bump into Lou, who was sitting next to him. As into her as he seemed, Sarah appreciated that he was also being respectful. Maybe she'd put in a good word for the guy. After all, any friend of Chuck's had to be a good person—and Laszlo had taken vacation time just to work on their project. Now, of course, it would be a feather in his cap … but he hadn't known that when he'd signed on.
Chuck stood up too. "I'll give you a hand," he said, and Ellie snorted.
"I just bet you will," she said. "You're very helpful, Chuck. Especially today."
What was Ellie's problem? Sarah wanted to ask, but now was definitely not the time. Maybe the two of them had had an argument, or something.
"You want another margarita?" Chuck asked, ignoring his sister. "Or something else? Anything you want, Sarah. It's your party."
"Another margarita sounds fantastic." She gave Chuck the biggest smile she could muster—which, today, was pretty damn big. "The hell with driving home. We'll take a Lyft."
OoOoOoOoO
The walls of the bar were painted a deep, dark red—the same color that Chuck's face was turning as Laz stared at him. "Would you quit looking at me like that?" he said, flagging down the bartender. Though the crowd stood three deep, there was an advantage to being six-four: He could actually be seen.
"Like what?" Laz said as the red-haired bartender made her way over to them. "Like a guy who just started a foundation specifically to fund the project of the woman he's into? Hypothetically speaking, would you say that's the look I'm giving you?"
"Hypothetically," Chuck said, pitching his voice loud enough to be heard over the murmur of the crowd and the bad '80s song on the jukebox—but not so loud that anyone else could hear, "if I had done something like that—would the look you're giving me right now be judgmental?"
"Hypothetically," Laz replied, "you could interpret this look as impressed as fuck. An alternate interpretation would be are you out of your goddamn mind? with a codicil of and yet, still impressed as fuck."
"So you don't think I overstepped." The idea hadn't occurred to Chuck until he'd seen the way his sister was eyeing him—exasperated, with a side of no you didn't.
Before Laz could reply, the bartender leaned toward them, palms braced on the polished wood. Her copper curls caught the light of the overhead, and Chuck stole a sideways glance at Laz. Normally, Laszlo had a real weakness for redheads … but today, he was barely paying attention.
"What can I get you?" she said, flashing a smile. "You're over there with Sarah and Lou, right?"
"It's like goddamn Cheers up in here," Laz muttered, low enough that she couldn't hear, and then, "Yeah, we are. Another round for everyone, please. Do you need a reminder, or—"
"Nope, I've got it." She tapped her temple, looking up at Laz through her lashes. "Margarita, Cosmo, Pinot, Shiraz, Sierra Nevada Pale Ale, and a Nite Lite Craft Light Lager for you. Pretty adventurous, if you don't mind my saying so."
"Yeah, well, I'm an adventurous kind of guy," Laz said, but it was a half-hearted kind of flirting. Normally, this level of encouragement would've been all it took for him to ask for her number—and probably get it. In fact, most of the time, he didn't even have to ask. It used to drive Chuck crazy. Now, though, he had Sarah—as miraculous as that was—and for once, Laz didn't seem the least bit interested.
The bartender turned to grab their drinks. Watching her walk away, Chuck couldn't help but grin.
"What are you smiling at?" Laz said, elbowing him in the ribs … again.
"Would you stop that? And you know exactly why I'm smiling." Chuck rubbed his side. By the end of this vacation, he was going to have a permanent bruise.
"Yeah, well." Laz folded his arms across his chest, resigned. "Maybe I should start a foundation. You think it'd help?"
"I don't know. But I can ask Sarah if maybe she'd say something nice to Lou about you—you know, if she has anything nice to say." He grinned again.
"It's not funny, man. I really like this girl. And we don't all have enough green to sod a golf course."
The bartender slid the margarita and the cosmo across the bar, and Chuck leaned forward to grab them. "I don't think money has anything to do with it. Maybe you should try taking it slow," he suggested, feeling a surge of sympathy. He'd never seen Laz try so hard with anyone before.
Laz groaned. "This is a new one. You giving me dating advice. God, the shame."
He kept talking, but Chuck tuned him out. Man, he hoped he hadn't screwed up by creating the Sedna Foundation. He'd thought he was doing a good thing—giving Sarah the security and control she craved for her project, and getting rid of Bryce in one fell swoop. But the way Ellie had been glaring at him, he'd definitely messed up somehow. She'd been as ecstatic as the rest of them when Beckman had announced the news. What had happened between the dive platform and the bar to change her mind?
Well, he didn't need to figure it out right now. Sarah was so happy, she practically lit up the place. He'd played a major role in making that happen—and for just a moment, he allowed himself to feel a hint of pride. He knew he wasn't good enough for her—he could never be good enough for her, in a hundred million years. But he could lift her up, could help her realize her dreams.
Yeah, tomorrow might be all kinds of screwed up—but today was just about perfect. And for once, he allowed himself to revel in the feeling.
"Chuck," his sister said from behind him, her voice cutting through the crowd and the jukebox—now playing Starship's We Built This City; someone had a '80s fetish, for sure—like a knife through warm butter.
Oh, no. He knew that tone.
Was it too much to hope she'd just come to help them carry the drinks to the table? Maybe he'd misinterpreted; after all, she'd only said his name, and it was horribly noisy in here—
He turned around … and found her standing there, her expression resigned and her hands on her hips. Laz took one look at her, plucked the drinks neatly out of Chuck's hands, and scattered.
"Ellie—" he tried, but she shook her head.
"Little brother … what have you done?"
A/N: What has he done, indeed? Sarah is happy—but will she stay that way? Bryce is out of the picture … but is he really? Will Lou ever give Laz the time of day? And now that our team's finally beginning to understand the dolphins, can they reverse the process—and have the dolphins understand them? Stay tuned to find out.
As always, thanks for reading—and please keep your reviews, follows, and favorites coming our way! They really do make this all worthwhile.