55 TroubadourFlash planned his exit from Olo’s gentle pull, plotting a course well away from his cetacean neighbors. In no time he came upon them again, rounding the far side of Olo, now further out from them.  He slowed so he could watch them, and his mind went back to a whale watching excursion he had taken on the Atlantic, off the coast of Africa.

He felt a thrill back then seeing whales surface and blow, or an occasional wave of a tail fluke. 

Now, the entire pod was clearly visible, almost illuminated against the dark velvet curtain of the universe. 

The whales were moving now, in formation. Slowly they circled, each following another, rising in an ever tightening carousel below the mother ship. 

Something glimmered out the side window, and Flash looked closer at it. A crystal… no… hundreds of crystals rose up from the whale pod, encircling his ship like a net. 

He had heard of something like this. Back on Earth, whales blew bubble nets to corral and feed on krill or small fish. 

He took stock of his situation. If these were like earth whales, he felt confident that they would not swallow him up. But these were not earth whales. If they rose up through the net of crystals, at least one of them would most likely collide with his ship. If he flew through the net, his ship could be damaged or even pierced. 

They continued their slow spiraling climb, still far below him. 

Flash simply followed the tunnel of crystals “up” away from the whales until the crystals subsided, and then doubled back outside of the net. 

As they continued, the crystals grew more plentiful. 

One great whale suddenly swam up the crystal funnel, it’s mouth open. Another followed behind it, and then the entire pod darted through the area feeding on something that was not apparent to Flash’s eyes. 

He watched their activity with great interest, and when it was over, the whales slowed again. All of the crystals appeared to be gone. 

One of the largest whales approached the mother ship. With it’s face on a level with Flash’s viewing screen, it slowly raised it’s tail until it was vertical (in relation to the ship), much like the whale had done when dropping Skip off down on the planet below.  The ship seemed to vibrate, and Flash turned his sound equipment back on. 

The whale’s song filled the compartment with heartbreaking tones that sounded like cellos and bass violins, laced with high pitched guttural sounds, and other acoustic elements that he had no words to describe. The song sounded ancient. Sad and hopeful at the same time, and Flash wanted it to go on and on. But no. The otherworldly troubadour finished his song and swam back toward the pod.  As he passed, they all turned and followed him away into deep space. Their time on Olo was over, and so was his.

 Now what?  Tiny Olo appeared tinier by the minute, and Flash couldn’t help thinking of his predicament twelve years earlier. The thought of being out in deep space beyond our solor system would have meant certain death.  Now he had come here by choice.