Mer-Cycle

by Piers Anthony

  “Well, the sun is the ultimate source of our life,” Pacifa said. “A legend could reflect this. And man, paleontologically, does derive from the animal.”

  “That’s still a long way from making sense of our expedition,” Don said, and they laughed.

  Eleph had wandered into another chamber. “Don, would you check this? Possibly a blade.”

  Don got over there, wading through waist-deep stonework, and Melanie followed him. She still looked odd in her hair, as if it were a pointless affectation. There was no question now: he could take it or leave it. It was Melanie herself he cared about.

  There was a blade: large and curved. It tapered into a narrow stem, then expanded again. There was a swelling in the middle. “That’s a double axe!” Don exclaimed, hardly believing it. “A golden decorated double axe!”

  Eleph looked pleased. “That is significant, archaeologically?”

  Don kept running his fingers through the hidden pattern, his arms elbow-deep in the visible muck. “It’s the labrys, the double axe of Minoan Crete. Our word labyrinth derives from it. It’s one of the religious symbols.”

  “So this is a Minoan city,” Gaspar said.

  Don shook his head. “I told you, the first typical Minoan palace was built after 2000 B.C. This predates it by two millennia.”

  “But that architectural ability had to come from somewhere,” Gaspar said. “It didn’t slowly evolve on Crete, you said.”

  “Yes, it seems to have emerged full-blown on Crete,” Don agreed. “But two thousand years—!”

  “Perfectly mundane, I’m sure,” Melanie murmured.

  “Is this city really that old?” Eleph inquired. “Isn’t this one of the fracture zones? It could have subsided.”

  “Not really,” Gaspar said. “Continental drift seems to be occurring in six major plates and a few minor ones, with the midoceanic ridges and trenches marking the fringes. The Puerto Rico and Cayman trenches represent one such fringe, but it’s relatively inactive now. That’s several hundred miles from here, anyway.”

  “But that’s not far at all, geologically, is it?” Eleph persisted.

  “Far enough.” It was a matter of opinion, and Gaspar was not about to give way. But Don recognized it as a reasonable alternative: if subsidence rather than a rising ocean level had submerged this city, the date of its demise could be much more recent. That made a great deal more sense, archaeologically.

  Don and Eleph and Melanie spent some time searching the storeroom for more objects of gold, but found only three small cups. Only? They were fabulous too. They were very thin, but had pictures on the sides in high relief. Don licked his fingers repeatedly to make them tender, trying to pick up every detail by touch. If only he were able to see! He was tempted to ask for Eleph’s threads and balloons, to haul this up out of the muck and into view. But he didn’t want to disturb it; that could ruin its seeming authenticity when a real archaeological crew came here.

  The first cup had people marching in a procession around the sides. One figure seemed to be carrying a lute, another a small calf, and the others unidentifiable objects. The second cup had the figure of a man and a tree and some animals, perhaps cattle. The man seemed to be holding one of the cattle by a rope tied to its back leg.

  But it was the third cup that astonished Don. It had two men performing acrobatics with bulls. Could Don’s imagination be leading his fingers?

  “Melanie, I want you to feel this,” he said. He guided her hand to the hidden cup. “Can you make out the embossed picture?”

  She concentrated. “One animal, a cow—no, bull. A man being thrown from its back. Another man holding on to the bull’s horns. Something like that.”

  Confirmation! Their readings of the illustrations on the cups could be grossly mistaken, but even so, they represented stronger evidence of the city’s association with the Minoan culture. The ancient traders of Crete, or of the culture preceding it, had crossed the Atlantic!

  CHAPTER 9

  GLOWCLOUD

  Proxy 5–12–5–16–8: Attention.

  Acknowledging.

  Status?

  The group has encountered the evidence of the lost city, and begun to appreciate its nature. This has taken the members a significant step toward melding, though they are not aware of it.

  What evidence is there for this?

  They elected to delay two days to provide time to explore it, though this exploration benefits only one of their specialties. They worked together in harmony, making discoveries cooperatively and discussing them. And they are starting to care for each other on a personal basis.

  How so?

  The older and younger women are deepening a relationship similar to that of mother and daughter. The young woman and young man are developing a romantic attachment.

  They are having an affair?

  No. But she put on her hair.

  Proxy, you have lost us.

  The young woman is bald. She has been rejected in the past when this was discovered, so is introspective and tends to be diffident about commitments beyond the superficial. She removed her wig so as to cause any rejection by this group to occur at the outset. When the group, and particularly the man, accepted her, she restored the wig. It has become cosmetic rather than substantive. She is now ready to make a romantic commitment.

  We must defer to your judgment in this respect. When will you reveal the mission?

  After the remaining two challenges have been navigated. They are sufficiently remarkable to cause serious reflection by the group. If it melds instead of breaking up, then it will be ready to handle the reality.

  We hope you are correct.

  “Eighty-eight degrees west, fifteen degrees north, approximately,” Melanie said.

  Gaspar worked it out. “Gulf of Honduras.”

  “Closer to the trenches?” Eleph asked.

  “Yes. Cayman. It projects southwest right into the Honduras. In fact there’s a valley in the corner there on land, probably an extension. If we find any underwater cities there, I’ll consider subsidence.”

  A passing reference to a passing difference of opinion. Yet it had a remarkable effect on Don as the party cycled on around the Yucatan peninsula. Gaspar was his friend, and Eleph an annoyance—but it was Eleph who had made the decisive suggestion that had given Don two days in the ruins, and Eleph who had found the labrys and cups. Those were perhaps the most significant New World artifacts ever, and they would make Don famous when he finished this mission and led a party to discover the city and them. Now it was Eleph who was pursuing the archaeological probabilities. Eleph was not only doing Don favors, he was demonstrating the more resilient intellect.

  No, that wasn’t fair. Gaspar had worked out geological prospects that were as significant as the archaeological ones. Gaspar certainly had preoccupations of his own. Both men were more important to Don’s interests than he had thought at first.

  “Maybe we are after all heading down to that dinosaur crater,” Don said.

  “Let me tell you, that would give me the same thrill you just got,” Gaspar said. “But it’s still a long way there, and I won’t hope until I see its coordinates.”

  They decided to skirt the eastern Yucatan close to shore. Gaspar said the typical depth of this region was five hundred fathoms—three thousand feet, over half a mile—extending almost to the brink of land. They could travel this deep water safely, completely hidden from human perception. “But farther out it drops to twenty five hundred fathoms,” he cautioned.

  “Two and a half miles!” Melanie exclaimed.

  “That’s nothing compared to the trench,” Gaspar said, checking the map. “It reaches a depth of over five miles. But no point going way down, when we’ll only have to climb out again. Anyway, the sea floor’s irregular. Used to be a land bridge from Cuba to the Yucatan.”

  The others were glad to agree about keeping to moderate depths. The climb from the abyssal plain to the continental shelf had worn them out, and only the t
wo-day exploration of the city had allowed them to recover.

  Even so, it wasn’t easy. In places the continental slope was so steep it resembled a cliff rising to their right, forcing them not only to walk, but to rope themselves together, just in case. Don knew that if they could only see it clearly, it would be the most impressive mountain any of them had experienced.

  “That’s the trouble,” Pacifa remarked, affecting distress. “Here I’m supposed to survey potential scenic routes—and they aren’t scenic. It doesn’t do a tourist much good to know that he’s passing near the most remarkable view, only it’s invisible.”

  Don had grown accustomed to the continuing night of the deeps, and to the ocean bottom animals. But there were surprises yet. One day they bore down on a giant squid, who was so startled that it emitted a cloud of glowing ink and disappeared. That horrified Don, for some reason that he decided was more instinctive than rational.

  “Makes sense,” Gaspar said. “Where there’s light, darkness conceals, so the inkfish makes it dark. But where it’s dark, maybe light conceals.”

  “Pretty smart,” Don agreed, shuddering as that ghostlike nimbus drifted through him. Melanie closed her eyes so that she couldn’t see it, which was perhaps a better reaction.

  “They are smart,” Gaspar said. “Cleverest animals in the ocean.”

  “Except for the dolphins?” Pacifa asked.

  “I wouldn’t except the dolphins,” Gaspar said, getting that stubborn tone again. It seemed harder than ever to avoid this attitude. “Everybody talks about them, but what are dolphins, really? Friendly mammals. Overrated.”

  “Don’t they help ships?” Pacifa demanded. “Imitate human sounds? Do tricks?”

  “So do birds,” Gaspar said. “I don’t despise the dolphin or the other intelligent cetaceans. But I think we’d profit more by studying the squid. He’s more versatile, and as I said, probably smarter.”

  “Well, we have a good chance now,” Pacifa said. “Old Glowcloud is back.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Gaspar said. “They’re curious creatures. See, his skin is green. I think that’s his curiosity color.”

  “Don’t tell me they’re chameleons!” Melanie said, becoming interested.

  “A chameleon is unworthy of the name, compared to this. Here, I’ll show you.” Gaspar rode up to the slowly moving squid and waved his arms violently.

  The mollusk turned white and jetted away, backwards. The color shift was so sudden and complete that the other four of them gaped. One moment the squid was green; the next, pale watery white.

  “How—?” Melanie asked, amazed.

  “There isn’t any light down here, normally,” Eleph said. “Why should it change color?”

  “Squids are versatile,” Gaspar said with satisfaction. “They inhabit all levels. Probably this one has fed in surface waters at another season. And of course there are some natural sources of light. Anyway, it has different color pigments in tiny sacs all over its skin. Muscles attach to elastic walls, opening these sacs, pulling them into star shaped patches of color. There are several layers, so the squid can blend colors like paints. Because the effect is muscular, not chemical, it happens instantly, with every change of mood. Hey, he’s back again.”

  The squid was swimming tentacles-first, slowly flapping broad fins near its rear. Don tried to conceal his automatic apprehension. It was hard to tell how long the creature was because Don didn’t know where to measure from, but the tentacles seemed to be twelve or fifteen feet from base to tip. The body was now light green.

  “Watch,” Gaspar cried, and charged it again.

  “Don’t tease it!” Melanie cried, her fear of the monster becoming sympathy. But she was too late.

  This time the squid did not blanch or retreat. Black stripes flickered over its body. Its tentacles reached forward in a mass and grabbed at Caspar, who was of course untouched.

  “Octopi are timid,” Gaspar said. “But squid are bold, and the larger they are, the fiercer. The biggest ones will fight small whales. I’d never try this in real life.”

  It looked none too safe even in phase. Startled at the lack of contact, the squid flashed black spots and grabbed again. It brought one huge eye to bear, trying to comprehend this thing that it could see but could not hold. It moved up and opened its massive, horrible parrot beak to take a bite. When this also failed, it turned reddish brown and waved its tentacles angrily.

  “It’s furious,” Melanie said. “Justifiably.”

  Gaspar laughed. Then the squid quit. It faded to a neutral gray and jetted away smoothly, its long arms trailing behind.

  “See, he learns from experience, and controls his emotions,” Gaspar said with a certain pride. He had evidently decided the creature was male. “He won’t try to grab me again, you can be sure.”

  But to Don it was macabre sport. Had they been on the same plane of existence, the monster could have devoured them all.

  They rode on, but several hours later Glowcloud was back. He checked each rider over, refusing to be dissuaded by shouts or action. Don was irrationally terrified, and even Pacifa looked quite uncomfortable as the tentacles passed through her. But Eleph had the most reason to take evasive action, because of his half-phased thread and balloons. If the squid discovered these, he would have leverage, and would surely use it.

  Perhaps to forestall this, Melanie nerved herself and tried to distract Glowcloud. “Hello, you gorgeous monster,” she said, trying to pet a tentacle. “How many colors can you make, when you feel artistic?”

  The squid’s reactions were extraordinarily rapid, and his manner disquietingly purposeful. He surely wanted to understand the nature of these little intruders, so as to consume them, and he intended to keep after them until he had solved the riddle.

  In fact, Glowcloud followed them. He would disappear for hours, but always reappear, no matter how rapidly they moved. His water-jetting mode of swimming was beautifully effective, and he could—and did—swim rings around them. Perhaps it was imagination, but the squid did seem to prefer the company of Melanie, and she was definitely warming to him. Was it because Glowcloud was hairless?

  “Beauty and the beast,” Pacifa remarked.

  Melanie, flustered, demurred. “I’m no—”

  “He’s the beauty,” Pacifa clarified with a smile. “Look at that color.”

  “B-but you are too,” Don added. Melanie seemed not to hear.

  “Good thing Glowcloud’s not one of the large ones,” Gaspar said merrily. “They grow up to over fifty feet, with tentacles over thirty feet, and maybe much larger yet.”

  “In horror magazines,” Eleph muttered, again avoiding the creature’s advances.

  “There’s pretty good evidence,” Gaspar insisted. “Sperm whales like to eat squid, and tentacles over forty feet long were found in a whale once. That squid must have weighed over forty tons, alive. But even that’s small compared to the ones that get away.”

  “From the sperm whales?” Eleph demanded. “How can you judge what the whale doesn’t catch?”

  “Maybe they tell squid stories,” Melanie suggested.

  “By the sucker marks,” Gaspar said. “You see the suckers on Glowcloud, here? All down his arms? Well, when a whale goes after a big squid, that squid fights, and his suckers make imprints on the whale’s hide. A fifty footer leaves scars four inches across. But some sperm whales have been caught with scars eighteen inches across.”

  “Talk of the kraken!” Pacifa exclaimed, awed.

  “They do tell stories,” Melanie said, tittering. “‘Hey, Joe, you should have seen the sucker that got away!’”

  “If the ratio holds true,” Eleph said, “eighteen inch suckers would indicate a squid over two hundred feet long, massing over a thousand tons. That would be the largest creature ever to inhabit our world.”

  Gaspar shrugged. “The ocean has secrets yet.”

  All of which did not make them feel easier about Glow-cloud. But the squid was gone again, r
ocketing smoothly into the murk. Any notion any of them might have had about clumsiness of such creatures had been abolished. Octopi might be awkward and slow when traveling, but squid were sleek and fast.

  They rode on down a narrowing valley, breathing hard.

  “I can’t catch my breath,” Pacifa complained. “Eleph, will you check the field generator on my bike?”

  They stopped, and Eleph checked. Don also felt out of breath, and Gaspar’s chest was pumping. Melanie’s bosom was heaving in a manner Don would have found interesting at another time.

  “The field is in order,” Eleph said. “But I must admit—”

  “Uh-oh,” Gaspar said. “I know. We’re in a valley that’s low on oxygen. Some of these exist in the ocean, if the water doesn’t circulate enough. See—almost no life around here. Turn and go back in a hurry.”

  They retreated with alacrity, but the breathing did not improve. Even if there were more oxygen in the water, the field would take time to phase it through.

  “Up!” Gaspar said. “Got to get out of the trough, into richer water.”

  “The map shows a steep rise to your west, as I remember,” Melanie said, trying to help.

  “Thanks!” Gaspar bore west immediately. “The rest of you—keep alert for Glowcloud. Where he is, there’s oxygen, sure.”

  They found the rise, but it was too steep to climb. Pacifa reeled visibly, the first sign of physical weakness she had shown, and Eleph was almost collapsed over his handlebars. Don felt like lying down and sleeping, and knew he dared not.

  “Glowcloud—where are you?” Melanie gasped.

  Gaspar found a discontinuity in the impassible face of the cliff, and scrambled up, hauling his bicycle along. The others followed, helping each other up. This was mountain climbing, for the path was narrow and the walls bare. Still there was little life.

  On they slogged. When Melanie seemed about to fall, just ahead of him, Don simply put the top of his head against her rear and pushed, and she made it to the next ledge. This was no place for niceties. He lost track of the others, concentrating on getting himself and Melanie to the higher ground.