In the Mind of the Whale

I was aware of swimming, pushing myself deeper into the ocean with each kick of my powerful fluke. As the sun’s light dimmed, I sounded, listening for the return to tell me what was ahead. In the distance, just above the static of the land-dwellers’ motor sounds, I could hear the pod talking about a tasty shoal of salmon they had found.

But—I was a human! Wasn’t I?

Then I realized that I was not alone in my mind.

Get out of my head! Willy thought, pushing at me. I didn’t like that, so I pushed back—and he faltered. No! he thought, panic tinging his mental voice. This is not possible!

I pushed harder, and he dwindled away until I was alone in my mind once more. Or—was it Willy’s mind?

I seemed to have inherited Willy’s instincts, at least. I was not doing anything stupid like gasping for breath at fifty fathoms, and the sound returns were painting as clear an image of the sea ahead as any sonar CRT screen. I felt as if I was supposed to be an orca. That should have worried me…

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