[pshrynk]

They were flying at cruising speed, now. Vivaldi had his head hanging out the window.

"How do you do that?"

"What?"

"Hang your head out when we're doing one hundred knots."

"I dunno. How do I talk? Ask the writer, he's the one making this stuff up."

"See anything?"

"Yeah. There's the fish now."

"Look, I'm not going to do a whole 'Who's on First' routine with you about the double meaning of 'fish.' Do you mean, there is the submarine we are looking for, which I am calling 'fish' or do you mean there is the great, wide ocean, full of fish, which I am saying I see in hopes that you will fall for it and we can get into a hilarious argument?"

Vivaldi looked down at his paws. "The latter," he mumbled.

"Let me know when you see the submarine, which for sake of argument I will allow us to refer to as "the" fish."

Grumble grumble grumble. "Check."

A short time later, Vivaldi started yapping excitedly. "There it is!"

Harv looked out his side window and saw the submarine. Vivaldi was singing some nonsense song about fish. He circled around the boat. There was activity on deck.

"Ah, Mr Wallbanger! Excellent piloting! Now, this one is very important. We have no way of communicating with the submarine, since they are under strict radio silence.

"You must do exactly as I say. They will now set off two smoke trails. You must land nearest the proper one, or they will fire upon us. Ah. They have released the smoke. You may now land."

Harv looked at the submarine. Smoke trailed from each end. "Which one?" he asked.

"The blue one, next to the fish, will do."