Kingdom of Salt and Sirens

by J. A. Armitage

  It really was him. He really did remember me, even if he didn’t seem to believe it. I was overcome with joy and warmth and compassion for all he’d been through when the Lawless Undine had attacked his ship until, like a rogue wave crashing down on me, I remembered that I was here to kill him.

  8

  The room was empty when I opened my eyes, but my arms didn’t hurt anymore. I tried to pull the hard, blue shell covering from them, but they seemed stuck. I sat up and tried to stand, distrustful of these legs that had failed me earlier.

  I found the shoes Bev had given me and slipped them on, scrunching up to the front of the shoe so they wouldn’t fall off. My head spun a little as I started walking, so I stayed as close to the wall as I could until I made my way out of the room.

  The boat was still, which seemed strange. Had we already arrived at the Weigh Station?

  I started to climb the stairs leading to the upper deck, then thought better of it. What if they sent me to the island Bev mentioned, or to the medic to give me a census chip? Either of those places would take me away from the captain, and I couldn’t allow that. I might never find him again, and then Reed would die. I would die… I needed to focus. I needed to remember that killing the captain was a strategical act.

  Humans had been selfish since the beginning, hadn’t they? Just consuming and destroying everything throughout the centuries? Maybe Mara was right. The Undine had hidden long enough. We’d run long enough. But none of this made figuring out how to make the captain kiss me any easier. He had to kiss me, Mama Luz had specified. I couldn’t even ambush him!

  People talking above startled me out of my thoughts, and the creak of their approaching steps down the stairs made me scramble to return to the other side of the room. I bolted from where I stood, but my legs were not accustomed to turning over so quickly and I fell face-first onto the hard, wooden planks below.

  The footsteps began clamoring down the stairs and soon, the voices filled the room.

  "My dear, my dear!" Dr. Peabody said, rushing to my side. "You shouldn’t be out of bed. Help me, Nicholas."

  A strong arm moved under my shoulders and lifted me from the floor. It was the captain, who looked at me warily this time before he looked away. He carried me stiffly back to the…bed, as Dr. Peabody called it, and nearly dropped me into it before putting space between us.

  Dr. Peabody moved closer and sat on the edge of the bed. "Just hold still for a minute, please," he said as he waved a small, colorful screen over my head, and it finally occurred to me that a minute must be a small bit of time…a few breaths. "The anesthesia is still in her system, but it should be clear in about ten minutes," he said. Twenty breaths, thirty…? I thought. "She can be moved with assistance."

  "Will she be able to stand on her own for the medic’s evaluation?" the captain asked without looking at me. He stood tall and straight, clasping his hands in front of him.

  Dr. Peabody held one finger in front of my face and moved it from side to side. "How do you feel, my dear? Dizzy?"

  "Dizzy?" I asked. Dr. Peabody just nodded.

  "She may need fifteen minutes, but perhaps the open air will clear her head. Show me your arms dear," he said, glancing down at the blue shell coverings. I held them out to him, and he raised a small, silver cube that made a high-pitched, deafening sound. My hands flew to my ears and I nearly fell to the floor until the sound abruptly stopped.

  "What was that!? What did you do?" the captain asked.

  Dr. Peabody shook his head. "Not a thing! Just turned on the ultrasonic to remove the derma casing on her burns. Are you all right, my dear?"

  I nodded and lowered my hands. He held out his for my arms, and when I hesitated, he set the small, silver cube down on the ground. He smiled a little and started to break away the shell casing over my arms, and I was astonished to see the dark gashes, and even the bite wound I’d had, were nearly gone.

  "They’re healed…" I said under my breath.

  "Yes, dear, just about! When you’re ready, then, Nicholas, just help her get above for some air. I need to queue the others for the medics."

  The captain nodded as Dr. Peabody patted my hand and left the small room. I hadn’t noticed all the shiny objects hanging on the walls all around, some of them sharp, some of them like bubbles, clear and rounded filled with tufts of something white.

  "Who are you?" the captain asked abruptly.

  "I’m…" I started, but I couldn’t tell him who I really was. Bev and the other captain hadn’t understood, and I had the feeling telling him I’d come from the sea to kill him probably wouldn’t go over well.

  "Your file says your name is Cora, and you’re from overseas," he said.

  "Yes," was all I could think to say.

  "You don’t really understand me, do you?" I just looked at him and nodded, which seemed to be neutral enough. He blew out a breath and seemed to relax his stiff posture. "Sorry, you just look like someone I’m not even sure I really saw," he added, shaking his head. "I know that doesn’t make sense. You couldn’t be her, anyway…" He took in a deep breath and looked at me more kindly this time. "Do you think you can stand?"

  I nodded again and put my feet on the floor, making sure I was steady before I tried to rise this time. I got up slowly as the captain took a few steps toward me, his arm held out to me. I took it, and he escorted me to the stairs.

  The boat was docked when we got to the top of the stairs. In the distance was a small island with dense trees and a long, white shelter stretching back from the shore. Next to us, two other boats, these long and narrow, were bobbing in the current.

  A line of people wound toward the white shelter waiting for their turn to go inside as another line wound back onto the boat. Both lines were patrolled by Sweepers.

  "This is the…Wave Station?" I asked.

  The captains lips quirked. “Weigh Station, yes. Do you want to tell me how you got those marks on your throat?” He glanced quickly at me and tightened my arm in his, but it seemed more tactical than endearing. I would have done the same if I were afraid someone was about to dart away from custody.

  "I have no…chip," I said.

  "Not now, anyway." He almost smiled. "What happened to your throat, Cora?"

  "I…" I started, and then realized there was no possible way I could tell him.

  He nodded and loosened his hold on my arm as we approached the opening to the Weigh Station.

  "You’re next. Are you still dizzy?" he asked, letting go of my arm. I nodded and stepped into one of the lines inside.

  Several people in long, white jackets held small, silver devices against the throats of the people coming to them. Most of those being examined went directly into light bonds and were escorted out another door by the Sweepers.

  I turned to the captain. "Where are they taking them?"

  "Back onto the boat—we’ll drop them off at Scrapper Island Penal Colony before going back to the mainland with anyone who never had a chip to begin with."

  "What happens to them?"

  "After they get a chip here, they’ll go into the system. The Citadel says they try to find jobs for them, but it’s easier to let them slip into debt and collect their years—one less person taking up oxygen."

  There was so much I didn’t understand from what he’d said, so I just shook my head at him and asked about the one word I could remember. "Citadel?"

  "Sorry, sorry… I shouldn’t have said that." He smiled awkwardly and glanced at the floor. "The Citadel is a protected city where all the decisions are made. Don’t worry—I’ll make sure your job placement doesn’t slip through the cracks."

  "Name?" an older woman with short, dark hair asked. She wore a long white coat like the others receiving people from a line. I hadn’t even realized I’d moved up so many spaces.

  "Cora. My name is Cora," I answered.

  "Cora what?"

  "Yes, Cora."

  The woman pressed her lips into a thin line and tilted her head at me. "OK, Cor
a, where did the marks on your throat come from?" She held the little silver device under each of my ears.

  I struggled for a reply until I remembered that the captain had told Dr. Peabody I had burns on my arms, and those had felt the same as whatever Mama Luz had done to my gills. The marks everyone had mentioned must have looked similar.

  "They’re burns," I finally answered.

  The woman raised a thin, dark eyebrow. "Burns from what?"

  "Um…a… powder."

  The woman’s dark eyes widened at this. She pushed her bottom lip out and nodded absently to me as she moved the small, silver device back and forth over the marks that were apparently on my throat. Suddenly, her expression shifted to one of confusion.

  "Sandra, can I borrow your imager for a second? Mine’s… off."

  The woman receiving the line next to us handed over her little silver device, and I was scanned again.

  "What’s the problem?" the captain asked.

  "She has two sets of vocal cords, and her respiratory anatomy doesn’t seem entirely…right."

  "What does that mean?" the captain asked quickly. "No chip then? Never had one?"

  "Uh, no. No, I don’t see any extraction scars on the tendons," the woman answered, meeting my eyes. "Step over to the table please. I’ll be right over." She smiled absently and walked toward a group of others in long, white coats who were actively poking at screens on the other side of the room.

  The captain took my arm tightly as he had before and started steering me toward the opening where the other line was exiting.

  "She said to go to the…table," I said, struggling to remember the word.

  "No, something’s wrong. You lie down on that table, and you won’t get back up," he said in a quiet, steady voice. "We’re getting out of here."

  9

  We moved quickly into the line heading back toward the ship, and the captain stood between me and the Sweepers until we got to the beach. But instead of going back onto his ship, we turned toward one of the long, white boats docked next to it.

  "Get in and stay low," he said, letting my arm go and helping me over the nose of the boat into the front seat. He looked around, then got in on the other side and poked at the screens that stretched the width of the boat. "Damnit," he growled, but then put both hands on the wheel and spoke again. "Commandeer code 119. Captain Nicholas Ericson. Weigh Station, Bermuda Two."

  The boat roared to life, and the screens in front of us all lit up at once.

  "What did you do?" I asked, noticing a few of the people who were still in line turning to look at us as we pulled away from the shore and sped toward the horizon.

  "I just called for security crews—only way to start the boat. Hopefully, they’ll be too busy finding out there is absolutely nothing wrong here to come after us right away." He grinned.

  "Wh—Where are we going?" I asked, but the deafening sound of the motor replaced any chance of an answer.

  The land slipped farther into the distance until I couldn’t see it at all on the horizon behind us anymore, only the whitecap wake of the boat. For some time there was nothing but ocean in any direction, and I had no idea whatsoever where we were in relation to the southern depths, let alone home.

  It seemed like half the day had passed before we stopped at a small, overgrown beach, and my face felt too tightly stretched when I tried to talk again.

  "Where are we?"

  "A dead zone," the captain answered, stepping into the water, then, carefully through the dense vegetation. "They shouldn’t be able to track us here, at least not for a few days," he added as he moved to a nearby tree and started shaking it.

  I stared at him. "What are you doing?"

  "Trying to drop these coconuts," he answered, then took out a small blade that looked a lot like my short spear. I cursed at myself for not taking it with me when Mama Luz sent me ashore. "OK, stand back," he said, then put the blade between his teeth and started climbing the trunk.

  Two brown, hairy fruits fell to the ground as he finished cutting them from the top of the tree. One rolled over my feet, and I was surprised to find it hard as a rock when I picked it up.

  The captain made his way down the tree, slipping on the last step and falling on his back. His blade went sailing into the brush.

  "Are you all right?" I asked.

  He groaned, but rolled over and pushed up to his feet. "Fine," he said, scowling as he searched the ground. I bent down and picked up his blade, which was sticking straight out of the sand not far from me. "Lucky that knife didn’t land in your foot," he said, extending his hand for it.

  "Knife…" I said under my breath and handed it to him. He motioned for me to hand him the hairy fruit as well.

  "What is this?" I asked.

  He raised a dark eyebrow at me. "This? You’ve never seen a coconut?"

  I shrugged. "They don’t grow where I’m from." As soon as the words left my lips, I wished I could unsay them. I turned away from him, hoping he wouldn’t ask me where, exactly, that was. But I wasn’t that lucky.

  "Your file said you were picked up by Sweeper Droids just beyond the docks in The Grind."

  "The what?"

  "Sorry, the city outside The Citadel." I watched his mouth form the words, his dark brows dance with expression as he poked the tip of his knife into different parts of the brown fruit. "And The Citadel is where the Sweepers took you after they picked you up," he finished, then folded his legs under him and put the coconut on the ground. He drove the tip of his knife into it, then picked up a nearby rock and hit the handle several times. He did this repeatedly until the blade sunk through the brown shell. He pulled it out and handed me the coconut. "Here, drink it."

  I took it and raised it to my mouth, which was so dry, I didn’t even care about the strange aftertaste of the water inside.

  "Thank you," I said, handing it back to him. He took a long drink, then raised the coconut over his head and brought it down over the rock he’d just used. It cracked open, and inside, I was surprised to see that the inside was stark white.

  "This is the meat," he said, scraping chunks of it out with his knife and handing me one of the halves.

  "Meat from fruit?" I asked.

  He just smiled at me. "Eat it—it’s good. And you’ll need your strength. We have a long walk ahead of us."

  "Where are we going?"

  "First, you tell me how you came to be on the beach at The Grind docks," he said, putting a pinch of the coconut meat into his mouth.

  "I…I don’t remember," I lied, but what else could I say? A Gnome rowed me there through a mystical fog that magically cut the distance in half so I could find you and kill you?

  I put the coconut meat into my mouth and was surprised to find that it was sweet.

  The captain laughed quietly. "You like it."

  "I didn’t expect it to be sweet."

  "No, I guess the water wasn’t," he said, glancing up at me, his smile fading. "And the hard shell on the outside was misleading, don’t you think?" He glanced at me again, this time meeting my eyes. "It seems like something completely different from what it really is."

  I took another bite of the coconut meat and looked through the overhanging vegetation out onto the sea.

  "You left your men. Won’t you be imprisoned?"

  He laughed. "Doubtful. They’ll just assume they were right about me coming back too early and will give me a desk job. I’ve probably lost my ship, though."

  I felt him watching me, waiting for me to ask him. Waiting for me to show that I already knew what he’d gone through.

  I didn’t trust myself to look at him yet, so again, I asked the tide. "Were you traveling?"

  He laughed again, this time, less abruptly. "Something like that."

  I risked a glance at him. "Was it like this place? Was it beautiful where you were?"

  He found my eyes, and a hint of a smile crossed his lips. "A part of it was."

  So this was the game we were playing then. Both of
us evading the other’s question, or answering others that were never asked. It took everything in my power to keep my expression neutral. I wanted to tell him who I really was, where I really came from. I wanted to ask for his help as a fellow soldier in strategizing a way out of the situation I was in, but that would only mean Mama Luz would surely kill Reed…and me.

  "It’s like time stands still here," I said before I could say anything I would regret.

  "I said the same thing the first time I was here," he said, pushing his dark hair back from his eyes. "The ship that was attacked wasn’t the first I’d lost. We were caught in a storm once, years ago… We managed to stay upright, but it was impossible to stay on course. Punched a hole in the hull somehow, and we wound up stuck here for a week waiting for The Citadel to pick up our distress call."

  The hairs on my arms stood on end at the thought that there could be Lawless Undine here. That they would do something to the boat we’d just hidden.

  I scanned the water for any sign of them, but of course, I saw nothing.

  "You were lucky," I said, hearing the note of warning in my voice.

  "That’s what they keep telling me." He nodded to the ground as he pulled in a deep breath and got to his feet. "We should get moving. It’s a long way to where we’re going."

  "Where are we going?"

  "To see an old friend of mine. I need to cash in a favor."

  We walked until the sun was low in the sky, and I continued to worry about the Lawless Undine sabotaging our boat. There would be nothing I could do to protect the captain without my short spear or my Undine voice. I would just sound like all the humans sounded to us, and who knew if these Lawless would even understand that.

  Wait, protect him? I thought. All so I could kill him myself.

  I shook away the thought because the idiocy of it was too distracting. I needed to get him to kiss me somehow, and what better place to do that than here, close to the sea? I had no idea where we were above the skim, but underwater, I was sure I’d be able to find my way back to the outskirts of The Shallows, where Mama Luz’s boat would be waiting with Reed for two more days.