Mermaidia: A Limited Edition Anthology

by Pauline Creeden

  Was that the missing camera? I had hoped it had merely slipped from my bag, lost in the depths of the ocean.

  Had he found it? Did it still work? Had he already uploaded the footage of Penelope swimming in the lake?

  Dread and fear chased all the warm feelings that had been swirling within me away until I looked into his eyes.

  He extended his arm, handing the camera to me.

  “This is for you,” he said, softly. “You dropped it.”

  “What…” I had trouble speaking again. My words weren’t forming properly. “Why?”

  “I couldn’t upload it. I mean, it works. The camera. The footage is still there,” Oscar clarified, waving a hand at it as I took it from him. “But I knew you needed this more than me. I hesitated about posting such a video, anyway. I’m sure there would be thousands of people calling it a hoax. I don’t want that kind of publicity for my channel.”

  “You didn’t… You’re not going to…” Again, my words wouldn’t work.

  “Zak wasn’t too happy with my decision. But clearly, you went to great lengths to make sure this video never made it to the public. If it means disrupting someone else’s life in such a way… No.” He shook his head. “I’ll find another way to get views on my channel. In a way that won’t harm anyone.”

  I smiled, grasping the camera close to my chest as if he had just handed over the most precious treasure. I might have saved this man’s life, but he had saved mine, too. And Penelope’s. My cousin and I could breathe easier knowing we didn’t need to worry about our lives being ruined by some online footage.

  “Can I ask you something else, Cassandra?”

  I nodded, still speechless from his gift as I shoved it quickly in my bag.

  “Um…” He grinned, then glanced at the ground. Color blossomed in his cheeks. At last, he focused his gaze on my eyes. “Why did you kiss me?”

  “I don’t know.” My heart hammered fiercely. I tilted my head, smiling. How could I explain the feelings I had for him that I couldn’t even understand myself, yet? “I felt… I don’t know. Something. Well, I guess it felt like the right thing to do. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

  “Okay, that’s fair,” he said, the smile broadening on his lips. “Can I tell you… I feel something, too.”

  How could he not hear my heart beating so fast? Joy erupted within me from his confession.

  “Let me ask you something else,” he continued. “Do mermaids like to drink coffee?”

  I blinked. “Some do, I guess.”

  “Do you?”

  I nodded.

  “Well, I’d like to buy you a cup of coffee. You know, so that librarian back there doesn’t think I’m a liar.”

  I laughed. “I’d like that, Oscar.”

  “Cool.” He reached his hand out to me. I let him wrap his fingers around mine, enjoying the sensation of his large hand encasing my smaller one.

  Together, we walked in the direction of new possibilities.

  About the Author

  Tricia Schneider is a full-time dreamer who writes romance novels and short stories. She’s been an archaeologist, a spaceship captain and a vampire hunter. She’s sailed the Seven Seas with sexy pirates and danced the night away with Prince Charming. Before the supernatural took possession of her pen, she worked as Assistant Manager and bookseller at Waldenbooks. She firmly believes there is a book for everyone. After the store closed, she turned to writing full-time, publishing paranormal and historical romances. From werewolves and witches to pirates and dukes, she escapes into sensual stories where happily-ever-after is a guarantee.

  Tricia lives in northeastern Pennsylvania with her four children and two rescued cats. When she’s not typing away on her laptop, she’s riding shotgun in a ’67 Impala while keeping her eyes open for a madman in a Big Blue Box.

  Read More from Tricia

  http://www.triciaschneider.com

  The Reef of Souls

  Kai Ellory Viola

  The Reef of Souls © 2020 Kai Ellory Viola

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Axios

  He walked down the short corridor, the whispered hush of the people around him singing into his head. This was an old temple - since the founding of the station around Io, they'd held this space. And yet, it seemed as if no one knew they were there. There were no outsiders that strayed down to that area of the station. Deliveries were shifted by grav tube, people travelling down with them while guards looked the other way.

  It was dusty and dull-lit in most of the corridors. As if they were in an old temple on earth - slightly neglected, and impoverished. He knew from his initiate days that there was less emphasis placed on cleaning, that there was far more placed on preservation, research, experimentation. One of the experiments, in fact, had left deep scrapes in the main corridor. A Xeons nightmare that one scientist had decided had been the root of the werewolf myth. He might have been right, but his 'creation' had changed how experiments were conducted, forever. But he had also risen in the ranks. He'd been touched by a mythical creature after all. Benenden. A lowly acolyte raised to almost godhood.

  What had started as a rich man's obsession with myth and legend had slowly grown into a cult. That cult had developed into believing that if one animal of myth could be resurrected. From there, it could return to Earth, and on that return, alter the environment as it had in the first place to make it habitable for itself. The twisted logic insisted that if humans and mythical creatures had lived alongside one another, that Earth would rebuild itself and become inhabitable. Simply, by recreating a werewolf, fae, or...mermaid. His precious Essedi Mataura. His Watermaid flowers.

  Low chants from ceremonies surrounded him, and the occasional open door revealed books - piles of old books, sitting in meticulous protection fields. Supplicants were passing their hands over the fields and making the pages turn, photographing each page, as they settled. Some turned another time and dusted, and was sucked into the field constructor, to be reconstituted if they could. It was all painstaking, painful work.

  He knew of this work - it was where he'd started, where he'd discovered the legend of the Essedi Mataura. The book referencing Essedi that mermaids had fallen to the earth on an asteroid, that they were alien. It had become his obsession, and as he rose from documenter to support staff, training still as a doctor, each of his unsatisfactory experiments with the seeds classified Essedi always came close. Close, but never quite grew utterly to fruition. Finally, he'd posited that there was an 'open space' component, and he petitioned to test that. And finally, he'd simply been sent a coin saying 'Axios'. That had been two and a half years ago. A compulsion made him bring that coin every time he visited, and more doors opened as he did. As if the currency was the key to the world. He had meant only to go to his bay, to look in on his experiments, to see if his essential quarantined items had continued to work. One had poisoned an initiate three days ago; he had high hopes for that one, as it was the first ostensibly that he'd bred that was vaguely carnivorous. Today though, the door to the science section remained resolutely closed. Instead, an arrow appeared on the door, pointing him down another hall. So, he walked.

  He entered a cavernous room, with a
single beam of light encircling a desk. He stopped at the edge of the light.

  "Please, Zedec, be seated." The voice was a deep susurration, a whisper in the dark that echoed against his jangled nerves. He crossed into the lit area of the room, then, as nothing felt unusual - no tingle, no sting, he pulled the chair out, straightened his suit jacket, and sat down.

  A file was passed from one edge of the darkness and placed in front of him. On its surface on both sides? - A phoenix, carrying the word Axios.

  "Your coin?" the voice demanded. As if unbidden, his hand dropped to the small pouch on his waistcoat, designed for an archaic clock called a pocket watch, and he pulled out the now worn, shiny edged coin. In the two years that he'd spent working since he then, the coin had never gone far. He often handled it in the night, when he couldn't sleep. Impatience for his experiment replaced by a zealot's belief that he had solved it, and all he needed was the right condition, and that he would be the one to resurrect an item of myth. If they could do that...well, he'd be one step closer to the things. Sitting at a desk in a luminescent circle of light, the centre of the ring, Dr Zedec looked over the ship's team and stroked his beard. He'd provided criteria of what he wanted and needed from the crew he'd travel with - in case the rest of his posited experiment required fuel. That fuel had to be human, plant, animal, Xeons. All medium that he could get his hands on would be stored in one crate, everything he needed beyond that could come from the crew. He knew he'd have to deal with a lot of things, including changing his appearance before passing through the quar-zone, and hoped his papers would hold, but he thought that team would be perfect. Multiple pairs of males and females, one already - and recently married.

  "What's the deal with the Greek?" he asked the man who'd passed him the file.

  "The word means worthy. Worthy of experimentation, of use of supplies, of all of it."

  "Worthy?" he snorted. "That ship has a Xeons abomination on it. He's part of the married couple..."

  "And we are seeding a planet far out in the stars, who says that it's the human genome that is the hardiest to survive. It makes more genetic sense, as Essedi Matura is a blended strain, from the two strongest strains previously grown. It can survive the empty or spread with the input of all of the materials on the planet. Maybe even reach to the Asteroid belt for its increased needs. We sent on the electrified Tridi to implant and created a....tempting situation for the Captain to approach. It'll definitely tempt Eli Harper. His dad was lost to the void around there - whether he acknowledges it consciously or not, he's conditioned to explore there. Always."

  Zedec sighed. "Do I HAVE to be restructured to go?"

  "Your war crimes warrant is still active. Yes." There was a moment of silence, and Zedec looked all around him, trying to see a movement in the area around him. He couldn't. "War crimes require you to be detained. You'd never leave Ganymede, let alone Io, where we at least control the system."

  "We can't ship her to another station," he said suddenly, agitated. Murmurs around him, a soft giggle.

  "You care more about the flower than YOUR status as a war criminal?"

  Hot anger spilt in him suddenly, and he ran his finger along the edge of his coin. "It was not a war crime. It was...an accident,"

  "Zedec, opening an airlock without permission is never an accident. But, you can do that this time, if you need to expose Essedi Mataura to the void. We have others on the ship, initiates, on the second shift, who have secured your codes for you. The captain, the pilot, the crew will know nothing of it. You can do as you please, as long as you are not caught." Zedec looked at the coin. "You know the rules though - no paper, transfer this to your private partition. You are an initiate; you know how to do this." The voice became harder, and a face slipped slightly into the light. Serpentine and slightly dragon-like, the face below the headdress was pale, plump, and scraped down one side. Father Benenden had failed with his werewolf. He'd survived to tell the tale.

  "What's the Captain's name, and the name of the ship we're sacrificing?"

  "His name is Holloway; his ship is the Apathy’s Maw."

  Roster and Loadout

  Captain Holloway watched closely as his crew and ship loaded up. He usually wouldn't be on the dock, beneath the load bay, but he was taking on board two new members, and greeting two that had been recalled early from their honeymoon. He hated to do it, but the viral outbreaks spread throughout the outer rim meant that they were making a premium, which might mean they could maybe take the leaner months off. More extended downtime later for a bit more strain now - he'd chosen that might just be the best deal after all. He'd asked first, and when most of the crew had agreed, he put in the recall and bid. And they'd been assigned Themisa. Which meant they were also awarded a different medic because he had an experiment of some sort out there. Holloway was still trying to access the paperwork around it. Yet, they'd been here three days, and the access to the internal systems had been spotty. He wasn't that surprised that all he could access was his name and a flag passing him to take an experiment. When he tried to access the research, the point of his needs on Themisa, any of it. But he couldn't access it. It kept flashing errors that either suggested it had corrupted on download or network and packet drops. Eventually, he gave up, and tasked it to Eli, on the ship to check.

  Three minutes later, he heard three loud raps over the chatter in the bay, and his page pinged back with 'affirmative'. He nodded and got on with his other chores.

  An hour later, Denneer came down on the platform to load the next set of items and, as he passed, said, "I'm not sure I'll find it here, but can I at least try and find that spare for Scap?"

  Holloway looked at his papers, did a quick calculation in his head about whether Marin, Topher, Eli and, when they arrived back, Jessi and Maresh turned up, could manage the loading of the ship. It was mostly minor boxes, though there were two high quarantine boxes, which meant they wouldn't be handed over until the whole crew had been sanctioned.

  "Be back in an hour. I'll hold the inspection till then," he said and pulled a few chits out of the shipside box pocket. "I've got nothing smaller, but just in case, that part used to be pretty cheap, I'll give you extra. Look out for anything else you can fit in the budget that we need." He looked at his board, tapped a few times, and pinged a message to the smaller handheld screen at Denneer's belt. "That's the current list of needs and wants, ranked in order of importance. If you could fill some of them, I think there would be a couple of delighted people on the ship." Denneer grinned and snapped off what started as a salute and ended as a backwards facepalm. "Oh, and practice that. We're on Flagship duty when we get back, after leave. If you want to be 2nd shift XO, being unable to salute might get in your way." He said it gently, with a wink, and Denneer smiled broadly.

  "Sir, yes sir!" and snapped a full, better salute.

  As he briskly sprinted across the bay, dodging between the boxes and tubs, containers and barrels, he saw another person heading towards him. He looked unsure, nervous. Not a good look in a loading bay, and so Holloway was unsurprised when he was commandeered by one of the officious members of the station, hovering and guarding the things that went past. After a small discussion, some exchange of papers, Holloway's heart sank when the clerk pointed the little man in his direction.

  So, this is either our new medic or our new off rota pilot. Nervous in either of them isn't a great look.

  The man approached though and became more confident, his back stiffening a bit. With some surreptitious straightening that Holloway was only watching over the edge of his clipboard, he finally paced up. Holloway looked up and said, "May I help you?"

  "Dr Julian Zedec, reporting for duty,". He was a small man, fastidiously dressed, with shiny shoes, and no hand luggage, at all. No clipboard, no holdall. Nothing. Unusual. Most people carry something when joining us. Cuffs that sparkled white under his jacket. It was his face though that bothered Holloway. There was something not quite right in his eyes. They were an off grey that
looked off, with a sheen that unsettled him. He looked almost cybernetic, and Holloway had rules about Cybs on the ship. Breakdowns of anything cybernetic rarely ended well, and there were...stories that he didn't want his ship - The Apathy’s Maw to be added to. His mentor's last trip was reported to have two Cybs on onboard the vessel with him, and... they never returned.

  If he was synthetic, a Cyber machine, he was the best he'd seen. He was pale, yes, but he was also sweating, his forehead wrinkled. But his eyes were still just...not quite right. Holloway wondered if he needed more sleep. All told, he didn't look like their last medic, an avuncular, rotund guy whose face was an open book, nor the one he'd expected and had worked with before. Still, Holloway understood that ships took medics and scientists based on experiment, not preference. That was part of their Trade warrants.

  "I'm Captain James Holloway," he said and offered his hand to shake. The doctor cocked his head, a curiously rodent gesture, then offered his own, leather gloves covering Zedec's hands. Once they shook, Zedec handed over his ID and papers and waited. He looked directly at Holloway, ignoring everything else around him. Holloway took his time examining them, ensuring they were real, then nodded.

  "Do you have belongings to have loaded?" Another chit was handed over, and Holloway reached up above him and swiped the barcode. The ship flashed the rim lights of the loading bay twice to acknowledge input, and two little scuttle trucks trundled away. "Our med-bay is fully stocked, so if there's anything in the kit that's for that, please rest assured, you don't need to pay for, and I will fully reimburse all used supplies." Zedec nodded, and Holloway finished. "We are a non-standard config, so please head up into the mess, which is the far end of the longer hall once you go up the loading ramp, and up first flight of stairs, and when Jessi and Marek arrive back, I'll have them orient you if I'm not done by then. We're an easy-going crew, but we do have some rules, but we can discuss them together before we leave."