Fathom

by L. L. Standage

  I redialed the number. Eamon picked up before the first ring was over.

  “Calder?”

  “Eamon, it’s Olivia. Someone’s following us. Calder’s trying to shake them off!”

  “Where are you?”

  “Where are we?” I repeated to Calder.

  “Heading south on the 5.”

  I told Eamon.

  “Okay…we’ve got a car at Presidio Park near Old Town, stay on the 5 until you get to the 8. Take the 8 east to Taylor Street and see if you can try to lose them in the neighborhood. Calder will know how to get to Presidio from there.”

  I related the message to Calder, who continued to press on the gas pedal. The headlights behind us didn’t fall back. We came off the freeway, sped down the street, and screeched around the corner. I shrieked in fright while Calder remained focused on barreling down the road as fast as the car would go. Horns blared at us as we sliced through traffic.

  We came off the highway, turned left and right, circled a block, left, then right again, but the headlights behind us kept coming. Calder increased his speed. I finished gathering all the papers from the file despite the being buffeted with every swerve.

  Soon we came to Taylor Street and took another turn, almost taking the corner on two wheels. We had come to Old Town San Diego—a few acres of historical museums and restaurants. It buzzed with people. Calder screeched the car to a stop, unable to go any farther because of the crowds.

  “We have to run,” he said, throwing the car into park and getting out. I stuffed the file up my shirt, folded my arms around it, and hurried out of the car just as the other car sped around the corner. We abandoned our car, doors still open, and bolted for the entrance into Old Town. The Spanish-themed shops and old-fashioned buildings rose up around us. Hidden among the crowds, the restaurants, and the merchandise, I couldn’t see any sign of pursuit. I grabbed Calder’s hand, not wanting to lose him in all the chaos. He didn’t pull away.

  We slowed to a jog as we departed the northern end of the Old Town square. The streets emptied. The rooftops of the Spanish Mission faded away behind the streets of houses and apartments. We continued uphill. I coughed and swallowed.

  “I need to catch my breath,” I said, letting go of Calder’s hand and wiping the sweat off my forehead with my arm. My legs burned from the climb.

  “We’re nearly there.”

  I sighed, a cramp piercing my lungs like a knife in my ribcage and jogged again. We came to a golf course, then a low hill covered in trees. Then another. I stopped at the summit of the second hill and looked behind us to see if anyone followed. We were alone. I couldn’t take another step.

  “Over there,” said Calder, pointing to a beat-up, thirty-year-old Chevy parked in the grass among the bushes and trees. I stumbled toward it. At long last, I heaved myself into the front seat. Calder, sweating but not over exerted, bent below the dashboard and fumbled with some wires.

  “You’re not stealing it, are you?” I cried.

  “No, it belongs to us. Walter and Uther left it here yesterday.” The engine rumbled to life. I leaned my head back and stared at the car’s saggy ceiling. I couldn’t believe we made it. My body felt like I had jumped out of my skin back at Oceana and had been running without it ever since.

  “Thanks,” I said as my breathing slowed and I noticed a stinging twinge in my knees.

  “Hm.”

  I lifted my head to look at him. “You mean, ‘you’re welcome.’”

  He raised a disgruntled eyebrow at me. I glared back.

  I had thought this little adventure would have softened him up—even just a little. I wanted to ask him what his problem was, but the words didn’t come. Instead, I remembered the folder I had stuffed in my shirt. I pulled it out when Calder wasn’t looking. It was bent from its wild ride, but intact. I opened it up.

  “Don’t look at it yet,” said Calder. “Wait until we’re back. We don’t want anything falling out.”

  I rolled my eyes. “If nothing fell out while you were pulling me through that tourist trap, it’s not going to fall out now.”

  He didn’t say anything in return, and we lapsed again into gritty silence.

  “Oh, well done. Well done, indeed,” said Eamon when Calder and I got back to the house. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

  “No, we’re fine,” said Calder, making his way to the kitchen. I, on the other hand, sat on the couch and rolled up my torn and bloodstained jeans to examine my skinned knees.

  “Do you need a band aid?” Sam asked me in a quivering voice. Calder returned with a paper towel and a bottle of rubbing alcohol. He knelt down in front of me and tipped some alcohol on the paper towel.

  “No, it’s fine,” I said, shrinking away, but he ignored me and placed the paper towel on one of my scrapes. I sucked in my breath as it stung. A lot. He continued to daub at it.

  I didn’t get this guy. One minute he’s ignoring me, the next he’s holding my hand, then he’s rude and silent, but patching up my wounds?

  “We had to leave the car at Old Town,” he said. “It’s probably been towed by now.”

  I stared at him, distracted from the pain as he continued to nurse my knees. Samantha caught my eye with a grin. I looked away.

  “That’s all right,” said Eamon, picking up the file where I left it on the couch. “We’ll go get it in the morning. I’m just glad we got this done and you two are okay.”

  “Did the hat get lost?” asked Natasha.

  “Sorry,” I said, wincing again as Calder cleaned my other knee. “You know, I can do that myself.” I reached for the paper towel. He brushed my hand away and dabbed at the scrape again. Ow. Was he enjoying this?

  “There’s some gravel in this one.” He continued to gently brush at the scrape.

  “I take it Linnaeus saw you again, Olivia,” said Walter. I nodded, blushing as Calder put band aids on my knees. Stop it, Liv.

  “There’s nothing we can do about that now,” said Eamon as he moved toward the kitchen, thumbing through the file. “Let’s just take a look at what he’s up to.”

  He laid the file on the kitchen counter. Everyone else gathered around. I rolled my jeans down and followed.

  “Why would he have all of this on paper?” I asked. “Wouldn’t a computer file be more secure?”

  “Computers can be hacked,” said Uther. He grasped the rabbit’s foot on his belt loop.

  “And Linnaeus is old school,” said Eamon. He studied the first page. Everything was out of order from when the papers got scattered in the car. The first page had handwritten notes on it, notes that I’d begun reading in Linnaeus’s office, but didn’t get to finish.

  New information: Pacific King called Llyr. Queen Hydria. One son, one daughter.

  Heir apparent...Princess Daxia, second and youngest child. Matriarchal society. Females hold the power (??) Fascinating!

  Capital City in Pacific South: Zydrunas, location currently unknown.

  Cordelia sighed with relief. “At least he doesn’t know where we are. He didn’t see that far into the vessel.”

  “How would he know my family’s names?” Seidon asked, looking concerned and protective.

  “He would have learned it from the vessel. That information precedes the Prayer,” said Cordelia.

  “Linnaeus seems to be surprised she’s the heir to the throne and not you, Your Highness,” said Walter. “You being the male child and the oldest child nonetheless.”

  “In our world, the female child is always the heir,” said Seidon. “Everyone knows that. You don’t think Linnaeus has something plotted concerning Daxia does he?”

  “Even if he does,” Cordelia said, “she’s safe where she is.”

  But Seidon’s face darkened vindictively as we continued through the file. The next page had another photo on it. It was of a man I didn’t know, but whose features were similar to the other merpeople—dewy skin and large eyes.

  Name: Ilan

  Origin: Pacific, namely Nor
th American Reach

  Specialty: stealth

  Current Status: deceased

  At this page, Cordelia sneered.

  “Who is he?” asked Walter.

  “Ilan. A cohort of Marinus, and a fool. He was killed in the pursuit just after Marinus stole the vessel.”

  Eamon turned the page. This one had Marinus’s picture on it. “Earth bound…” said Eamon, pointing to Marinus’s status. “He can never go back.”

  “Correct,” said Cordelia. “Stealing a vessel is a serious crime. And in placing it in human hands, Marinus has forfeited his right to return to his proper physical form.”

  The next was a black and white photocopy of a piece of paper from a notepad, with a handwritten poem on it. The poem was exact—if not very similar—to the one I had heard come out of the vessel in Linnaeus’s office.

  Eamon picked the paper up with his eyebrows knit.

  “It’s the Prayer. He has the original somewhere else,” he said. Cordelia snatched the paper away and crumpled it up.

  “For this…this…human to have such information is not only insulting, it’s downright blasphemous. Thank Lord Nereus he doesn’t have the vessel anymore.”

  “You never explained what the Prayer is,” said Samantha. Cordelia sent her a venomous glower, but Seidon spoke up.

  “It’s part of the ceremony for merpeople to take human form. Not something we want in the hands of men like Linnaeus.”

  “Or any human,” added Cordelia. “How do you know so much about it, Eamon?”

  He held up his hands. “I’ve known about it my whole life, Captain. It comes with the job.”

  “Look at this,” I said, picking up the next sheet of paper. It was a trifold invitation for some kind of party printed on luxurious linen paper with shining, embossed lettering. The front fold read, ‘Tu ad cognoscendam veritatem’ over a swirling flourish.

  “Tu ad cognoscendam veritatem,” I said, probably butchering the pronunciation.

  “What does that mean?” Samantha asked.

  “It’s Latin,” said Walter. “Means ‘learn the truth for yourself,’ or ‘you will learn the truth,’ something like that.” Everyone stared at him. “What?” he continued. “I went to university.”

  I opened the trifold, where more embossed words were written, and read out loud:

  “Doran Q. Linnaeus, Proprietor and Chief Shareholder to Oceana Marine Adventure Theme Parks Inc., cordially invites you to attend a banquet held in honor of one of the greatest and most unprecedented discoveries of our age, the declaration of which will rival the likes of men such as Galileo, Newton, and Darwin.”

  I cast a look of horror toward Seidon and Cordelia, who stared at the brochure as if it would explode.

  “Who are these men?” asked Cordelia. “Galileo, Newton, and Darwin?”

  “Scientists,” said Eamon. “They made important discoveries. World-altering.”

  “You don’t think Linnaeus is going to tell people about us?” Seidon asked.

  “Who’d believe him, he’s got no proof,” Cordelia said, her voice low and angry.

  “What else does it say?” Natasha asked. I looked back at the invitation and read the rest of it aloud.

  “Arrive at six-thirty for cocktails, blah-blah-blah…and then, ladies and gentlemen, your worlds will be forever changed by the unveiling of our planet’s greatest secret, and the arrival of a most distinguished guest.”

  Heavy silence filled the kitchen. Each pallid face drew into a frown.

  “…a ‘most distinguished guest’? But that could mean anything, couldn’t it?” asked Samantha in a voice barely louder than a whisper. “This guy probably hangs out with all kinds of distinguished people who could have made discoveries.”

  “Sam…” I said, shaking my head. “The guy owns a crappy theme park. He’s probably put millions of dollars into it. What else could he reveal that would make him filthy rich and famous forever?”

  “But even if he does have the audacity to make such a claim,” said Eamon, “Cordelia’s right. The only proof he could use would be a living merperson.”

  “He could if he had the vessel,” said Walter. But Uther shook his head.

  “The images and sounds that come from a vessel can be faked,” he said. “It would not have been solid proof. He must have been hoping to have a real merperson in his possession for this party.”

  Natasha gave the invitation an uneasy frown. “A bold move to plan the party before the guest of honor signs the RSVP.”

  “But he has a merperson,” I said. “Marinus. Why doesn’t he just use him?”

  “Marinus cannot go back to his original form,” said Cordelia. “He has betrayed his people and forfeited his sacrifice. Linnaeus wouldn’t be able to use him.”

  I gasped as a realization hit me. “This was why Delfina killed herself!” I exclaimed. “She must have found out what they wanted to do with her!”

  As everyone else murmured their shock and sorrow, Cordelia and Seidon emitted an unearthly growl.

  “What else is in this file?” Cordelia demanded, pulling it toward her. She rifled through the last few sheaves of paper.

  “You’re sure none of this is on a computer?” asked Walter. Calder shook his head.

  “I don’t think he even had one in his office.”

  “All the same, I’m going to check,” said Uther as he walked out of the kitchen. Cordelia dropped the last paper onto the stack and shook her head.

  “Nothing we don’t already know. He took notes on how the vessels work. Information on Delfina. The rest of this is just nonsense for his infernal party plans. He must have had Marinus steal the vessel to learn about our ways, then use it to lure one of us into his hands.”

  “Why would Marinus do this?” Seidon asked. “Why would he betray his own people?”

  “Because he’s a grasping bottom feeder,” said Cordelia.

  Eamon looked at Natasha, who covered her face with one hand.

  “It’s not your fault, lass,” said Eamon. “Marinus made his choices.”

  “But what if he’s doing this out of some warped kind of…I don’t know, devotion or obsession, or—”

  “I wasn’t exaggerating,” Cordelia interrupted. “Marinus has always been a slimy little leech. He hates our government, he hates our queen, and he hates everything our society is built on. Though his behavior disgusts me, it doesn’t surprise me.”

  Natasha looked appalled.

  “So, Linnaeus wanted a mermaid,” I said, remembering the terrifying moments when Linnaeus glared down at me, thinking he had one. “But when he kidnapped me, all he wanted was the vessel.”

  “You don’t know that, Olivia,” said Eamon. “Linnaeus will say and do anything to get what he wants.”

  “I guess that’s true,” I said with a shrug.

  “How can you be so casual about this?” Calder suddenly exclaimed, startling me and everyone else. “The entire merworld is at stake here and you were just going to hand the vessel over.”

  “But I…”

  “They were going to kill her, Calder,” said Walter.

  “What, like Delfina?”

  “Delfina was a soldier,” came the authoritative voice of Captain Cordelia. “Olivia has had none of her training or experience. She didn’t understand what the implications were.”

  “Right. If Marinus was such a low-life, what does that make her?” He looked at me.

  “Hey, why don’t you back off?” said Sam, but he ignored her.

  “Are you working with them?” Calder asked. “Or are you just stupid?”

  Wow. I scowled as my eyes filled up. My throat tightened. Calder shook his head, walked past me, and went out the back door.

  No. This wasn’t finished. I followed him, my blood blazing as I slammed the door behind me. He turned to look up at me from the second step down.

  “What?” he said. For a second, I faltered under the weight of his glower. But among the weight of my hurt feelings, a rage roa
red in my chest. It struggled, scratched, and pushed until I could barely hold it back.

  “I didn’t know,” I said through clenched teeth, “about the vessel.”

  “What do you mean, you didn’t know? Are you completely brainless?”

  “What’s your freaking problem?” I shouted.

  “Nothing,” he muttered, facing the ocean.

  “No, you’ve been a complete jerk to me ever since I got here. What did I ever do to you?”

  He spun back around and stomped up to me.

  “Fine, you want to know my problem? My problem is you. You’ve followed us around this whole time like this is some kind of game. Delfina gave her life to keep the vessel and her people safe and what did you do with it? You handed it over!”

  “I told you. I didn’t know about the vessels. How was I supposed to know?”

  “Just go back to your ocean where you belong. You’ve done enough.” He moved to go back into the house. I knit my eyebrows in confusion.

  “I’m not going anywhere. I may have started this, but I’m not leaving until I fix it!”

  I cried. He took a step toward me, eyes blazing, but I folded my arms and stood my ground. “And what do you mean, ‘go back to my ocean’? I’m not a fish.”

  “Right, you’re just some useless, daft little mermaid who came here without any thought but to satisfy your selfish curiosity!”

  Wait, what? Did I hear him right? I sputtered, trying to wrap my head around what he said. “D-did you just—”

  “Yeah. I told you to go. So go.”

  “I’m not a mermaid, you moron!”

  He opened his mouth but stopped and stared at me as though I had just breathed fire.

  “You—but you’re…” he stammered.

  “I don’t have gills. I’m not drinking water every five seconds. Seriously, are you blind?”

  He sputtered at me, his face full of shock. I stepped closer to him and stabbed my finger at his chest as I continued, not caring what he thought or what he said next. “Don’t you dare call me useless or selfish again, you jerk. I was thrown into this against my will, and the only reason I have stayed to help was because I care about what happens to the merpeople. I’ve done absolutely nothing to betray anyone’s trust and I don’t care if I never earn yours.” I looked down as my courage started to wane. “So get over yourself.”