Reefsong

by Carol Severance

  As she lowered herself over the roof edge and shimmied down a porch post, Angie was thankful for the strength and suction of her hands, which allowed her to move in complete silence. Like a windblown shadow, Pua darted across the compound. She made one quick dash in the open, across the narrowest area of carefully tended lawn, then slipped into the jungle. Angie followed.

  She would have preferred going uphill—if she was going to hide, she would rather do it on land—but she was not surprised when Pua turned toward the sea. “Where are you going, Waterbaby?” she murmured when Pua reached the beach. Pua walked until the water reached her waist, then quickly disappeared below the surface.

  Angie glanced back the way they had come. She didn't want to go into the ocean, but she knew there was nothing more she could do on land. She could probably hide out indefinitely in the dense jungle, but that offered no real solution. The sharp coral sand pressed into her bare feet as she walked through the shallows. She was careful to avoid stepping on or brushing against any of the larger coral outcroppings, and was relieved when she finally reached deep enough water in which to swim.

  Pua had disappeared. Angie knew that if she swam on the surface, her splash would surely attract Pua's attention, and that of probably every other nocturnal denizen of the lagoon. She shuddered at the thought of what some of them might be. She counted carefully to calm herself, then submerged.

  The night was bright despite the scudding cloud cover. The bioluminescent plankton made it as easy to see underwater as above it. Angie activated her nictitating membranes, and her view cleared even further. She waited for the kick of the adrenaline release, then pressed a search order into the implant she had coded for Pua. To her very great relief, a tingling itch responded. Pua had either decided to carry the locator string, or had forgotten she even had it.

  Angie started to swim.

  It occurred to her that Pua might know she was following and would deliberately attempt to get her lost in the open sea. But then she remembered she was inside the reef—two reefs, for that matter. All she had to do was surface and take her bearings off the moonlit tip of Mauna Kea Iki. She glanced up at the gently bubbling surface and tried to relax.

  The warm water slid like silk across Angie's skin, totally unlike the icy mountain waters of the forest preserve. In those, she always lost feeling shortly after the first shock of entry. Here, the water caressed like ... Why do I keep looking for Earthly comparisons? she wondered. There is nothing on Earth that compares with Pukui.

  It was clear why Pua preferred swimming without clothes. Angie was tempted to slip out of hers, but she pictured herself climbing ashore naked to face Toma and Crawley, and decided to leave them on.

  She could hear the distant roll of the surf on the outer reef, and the mechanical thrum of the disposal barge working the number-nine pen. From this far away, it was more a background vibration than a recognizable sound. There was so much other noise, Angie was not entirely sure just what she was really hearing. A shrill chittering squeal sounded somewhere off to her right, making her jump.

  The water was splendid in its own golden glow, and the flickering light of its many occupants made it more so. Small creatures approached, flashed their presence, then darted back out of sight. Clicks and sighs, the shivering call of some creature Angie was afraid to even imagine, echoed around her.

  It is like a symphony, she thought. She smiled, releasing a stream of bubbles from between her teeth. It's like a dance! She could hear the reef singing. It called to her, assured her she was safe here in her home...

  Angie jerked to a stop. She shook her head angrily, then kicked for the surface. “No,” she said as soon as her mouth was clear of the water. “This is not my home!”

  This insidious sea was just like the damn mountaintop. It sang a siren's song, and for the first time in her life, Angie regretted her ability to sense so clearly the moods of her ecological surroundings. If she hadn't known better, she could almost have believed the reef was alive and sentient, calling out to her in its resonant, symphonic voice. No wonder Pua had difficulty separating myth from reality.

  “Save your songs for your children, Le Fe'e,” she said aloud. “Save them for those who wish to make this their home.”

  What am I doing? she thought suddenly. Talking to the damned ocean as if it could hear me. Pua isn't the only one around here with seawater for brains.

  Angie turned back toward where she thought the island must be, caught a mouthful of water, and choked. Her gills, of course, had sealed as soon as she had started breathing air directly again. She spat and cursed, and noted that Pua was moving in a straight line away from the beach where she had started.

  Abruptly, the direction signal veered to the left. Angie turned to follow, but then realized from the itch's rapidly decreasing intensity that the locator was moving away from her much faster than any human, even Pua, could swim. Spit, she thought. She must have hooked it to a damn fish. Now what am I going to do? Pua could be anywhere.

  That thought made her tremendously uncomfortable.

  Something splashed ahead of her and to the right—something large slapping against the water. Reef rays, Angie thought. She had only seen the great double-winged creatures from a distance, but the swimmers talked of watching Pua play with them.

  “Use what you have, Auntie Puhi,” she muttered. She took her bearings, submerged, and swam in the direction of the splash. The song of Pukui remained strong.

  From time to time, Angie surfaced and listened. The distant splashes continued to lead her in a direct line away from the beach toward the inner reef. As she approached the strongly bioluminescent coral shelf, she hesitated. Her path led directly through the center of a dimly glowing algae pen. This was a recently matured batch. It was not entirely dark, as were the overripe and rotting crops that were currently under harvest. Still, it was not a comfortable sight in the otherwise well-lit sea.

  Angie dove deep enough to see that there was at least three meters’ clearance between the load of algae and the reef flat. She saw a large shadowy movement ahead of her, far under the net. She blinked telescopic and recognized the vague shape of a ray. “Oh, mother of mountains,” she muttered into the water. “Why do I keep doing this to myself?”

  A good troubleshooter never leaves a job unfinished. Toma's taunting voice slid through her fear.

  “Spit.”

  She surfaced well away from the alarm canisters, counted to calm herself, then dove again. The predictable release of adrenaline as her gills reestablished oxygenation gave her the courage to swim under the shadow of the net.

  It was not as dark as she had feared. The coral reef and its myriad inhabitants glimmered like a slightly out-of-focus light show. If not for the huge mass of Earth algae hanging above, she might actually have enjoyed the strange, night-lit world. The cold water was not running through the noninsulated pipes, so the temperature remained constant, warm, and comfortable. She was thankful for that at the moment, but made furious once again that her orders regarding the algae pens were being ignored. She glanced up at the looming net, swallowed her anger and her terror, and kicked hard for clear water.

  When she finally reached the other side, she swam only far enough to be sure she would not trip any alarms. Then she headed directly for the surface.

  A flash of movement close at her left startled her off course, then the bump of something hard and smooth across her back forced her down and farther away from the net. She twisted and spun, trying to escape a second buffeting attack by the great gray creature. A reef ray, she realized at once.

  The thing turned back and knocked her upside down with the sweep of one wide, flat wing. A second, then a third ray appeared. They surrounded Angie, tumbling her over and over until she was completely disoriented and as near panic as her stunned mind could achieve.

  At least I won't have to worry about hiding out anymore, she thought absurdly. Something thin and strong wrapped around her arm, and abruptly the buffeting mae
lstrom subsided. The double-winged creatures swept away. Angie was yanked to one side, then up. Suddenly she was at the surface, gasping clear air and facing an entirely enraged Pua.

  “Why are you following me?” Pua shouted.

  “Pua—” Angie gulped and choked on a mouthful of splashed water. Pua's grip was still crushing Angie's arm; her second hand was tangled in Angie's hair. She shoved Angie beneath the water, then yanked her back to the surface.

  “I thought that reef-pissing string only activated if it was broken!” Pua shouted before Angie could catch enough breath to speak.

  A ray splashed nearby and water cascaded over them both.

  Angie reached behind Pua with her free hand, grabbed the girl's knotted hair, and yanked her head back. At the same time, she wrapped both legs around Pua's thighs. She knew Pua's legs were stronger than her own, but if they couldn't reach her, they couldn't hurt her. The immediate strain on her own thighs gave at least partial lie to that idea. The girl's skin was as slippery as if she had been oiled. Angie locked her ankles behind Pua's back.

  They rolled underwater, and Pua's grip, like Angie's, tightened with a fresh infusion of adrenaline. They thrashed back to the surface.

  “Stop it, Pua!” Angie managed before they went under again. She was sure her hair was being pulled out by the roots. She yanked harder on Pua's, and the girl almost let go. Angie yanked again and squeezed her legs as tight as she could.

  Abruptly, Pua did let go, but only to shift the grip of both hands to Angie's thighs. They broke surface again.

  “Stop it!” Angie called again.

  The strength of Pua's kick kept them upright long enough for her to answer. “You lied to me! You put another tracer into me!”

  “No, I followed the—” They went under again. When Angie finally sucked in air again, she yelled, “Rays, damn it!”

  Through the splash, she saw Pua's eyes widen. The bone-crushing grip around her thighs loosened, then abruptly let go. Instantly, Angie released her own hold and backed quickly away.

  “I followed the rays. Their splashing. I listened, and followed.” She groaned suddenly, and rolled forward to hug her aching knees to her chest. I won't be able to walk straight for a week! she thought.

  A ray swept near and brushed the tips of what she could see now were its forward wings along her arms. She was reminded that she might not be walking at all in a few days, or ever, if she couldn't convince Pua not to kill her. She straightened and lifted her head above water.

  Pua was treading water just an arm's reach away. She looked as furious as Angie had ever seen her.

  “I didn't lie, Pua,” she said. “I saw you go out the window, and I followed. Once you were in the water, I used the locator, but after you got rid of it, I had no idea where you went. I heard the rays splashing and decided to go after them.”

  “Why? Why did you follow any of us?” Pua demanded.

  “Why not?” Angie snapped. “It was better than sitting back there waiting for those two idiots to lock me up someplace where I can't do anything to help anybody. Why did you sneak out?”

  Pua's lips tightened. She jackknifed and dove. A moment later, she broke surface behind Angie. Angie spun to face her.

  “I don't want to be locked up, either,” Pua shouted. “I don't ever want to be locked up again!”

  She dove again. Angie submerged, too. A ray, easily three times Pua's length, lifted beneath the girl. Pua grabbed the forward edges of its front wings and hugged it close. She braced her feet on the forward edges of the back wings. The ray turned in a slow, graceful circle, like a giant double-winged bird doing loop-the-loops in the sea. Pua saw Angie watching, pushed away from the ray, and shot back to the surface.

  “I know where Toma wants to hide us,” she said. “It's cold and dry. I won't go there, Mountainlady.” She looked around, running her hand along the underside of a caressing ray. “I won't let you give me back to Mr. Crawley, either.”

  “I told you I wouldn't do that,” Angie said.

  Pua's laugh was hard and humorless. “You told me you would never come to Pukui, too.” She scooped up a mouthful of water and spat a high curving stream into the air.

  Angie rubbed her hand over her stinging shoulder. The sealant bandage over Toma's incision must have torn loose during the fight. “You'd make a hell of a troubleshooter,” she said. The muscles in her thighs and calves felt strained beyond repair.

  “I'm not kidding, Mountainlady!”

  “Neither am I.” Angie pushed her hair from her forehead. “Look, we need to go somewhere where we can talk.”

  “We're someplace right now,” Pua said. She took another mouthful of water.

  “Pua, you might be able to tread water all night, but I—”

  Pua spat, the entire mouthful at once. “Are you bleeding?”

  Angie glanced down at her shoulder. “It's just the cut Toma made. The bandage—”

  Pua grabbed Angie's arm, and for a moment Angie thought she was going to drag her under again. “Earthers are so stupid!” the girl said. “Don't you know you should never bleed in Pukui waters at this time of night?”

  She yanked Angie's blouse off her shoulder and then ripped away the loosened patch.

  “What are you doing?” Angie asked as Pua rubbed the back of one hand over the open cut. A thin, slick film was left behind. It stung sharply for an instant, then quickly numbed.

  “Stopping the bleeding,” Pua said. “This is the suckers’ time. We've got to get out of here. The rays will take us—you just hang on.”

  She shoved Angie's head under the water, clicked her nails in rapid sequence, and pointed. A dark cloud of seething movement was approaching from under the net. Two rays rose directly under Angie and Pua. Pua pressed Angie's hands over the forewings of the smaller ray and shouted, “Hold on!” She clicked her fingers again, and the ray surged forward, nearly yanking itself away from Angie's grip.

  It was only Angie's remembered image of the blood-maddened suckers under the disposal barge the night the crewman had died that gave her the courage to stay with the giant winged creature. She lay prone on its back, her face and chest pressed hard against its velvety warm skin. She caught a glimpse of Pua streaking by on the second ray. The girl had wrapped her legs around the ray's narrow center, and Angie carefully did the same to relieve some of the tension on her arms and shoulders.

  The water rushed over Angie's body like a high mountain wind, hard and strong. She clung with all her strength to the great gray creature, and after a time, entirely to her own amazement, she found herself grinning against its back. This was by far the most terrifying, the most exhilarating flight of her life. The reef was singing to her again, loud and clear, and because there was no way to avoid it, she listened and enjoyed.

  The ride continued for much longer than was necessary to simply escape the suckersharks. Each time Angie thought the rays must surely be slowing to let their passengers off, they veered in a new direction and swam effortlessly on. Do they ever tire? she wondered.

  It was difficult to distinguish sounds through the rush of water past her ears, but Angie realized after a time that Pua was directing the rays with quick staccato clicks of her fingertips. Gradually, the feel of the sea changed. Its touch became cooler, stronger. The water began to taste of great distances and depths. Before long, the vibrating roar of nearby heavy surf drowned out all other sound. Mother of mountains, Angie thought, she's taking us outside the barrier reef!

  She thought about letting go of the ray and kicking her way to the surface, then swimming back to the island, or at least the reef. She did not want to be lost in the middle of the fireloving Lesaat sea. But then what would you do? she asked herself. Go turn yourself in to Toma? She held on. The rays turned again and swam parallel to the glowing outer reef.

  At last, they slowed. Pua and her mount came abreast of Angie. She pointed down. Angie shook her head and pointed up. She needed to take a breath of real air. Pua pointed down again, clicked h
er nails, and both rays descended so fast Angie was afraid to let go.

  Finally, the rays slowed almost to a stop and Pua slid off. Warily, Angie followed. They were in deep water, cold water, along the side of a steep drop-off. There was still light enough to see, but it came from the reef itself, not the floating dinoflagellates that filled the surface waters. The pressure in Angie's ears was strong. We're going to have to ascend a lot slower than we came down, she thought.

  And then she remembered that nitrogen narcosis was not a problem for waterworlders. Their gills drew oxygen directly from the water, so the potentially deadly buildup of gas bubbles in the bloodstream was not a problem. Angie had seen no sign of a hyperbaric chamber on Pukui grounds.

  Pua waved her toward the reef and pointed to a dark opening.

  “Oh no,” Angie said. “I'm not swimming into any underwater hole—” The excess oxygen in her lungs ran out.

  Pua pointed again. She leaned close and called, “Air inside.”

  Angie glanced back up at the foaming surface, so far above. “Spit,” she said, but there wasn't enough oxygen buildup yet to make it worth much. Pua grabbed her arm and yanked her inside the hole. The traverse was only about a meter and a half, but to Angie the time spent in the near-total darkness felt like an eternity. When light appeared ahead, she kicked rapidly toward it.

  They surfaced inside a long, narrow chamber. They were inside a pocket of only mildly stale air. The walls were covered with pale, viscous splotches. Slime molds, Angie thought, and shuddered, although it was the thought of being trapped inside the stone that disturbed her, not the luminescent slicks that covered it.

  “Watch,” Pua said. She slapped her hands against the wall nearest her, then pointed to the narrowest end of the cave. Nothing happened for an instant, then the light flickered and dimmed. The colors on the wall began to change. They swept in spiraling designs toward where Pua pointed.

  A figure began to form. It was the face of an old man, lined and toothless under a shock of pure white hair. The expression on the face shifted until the dark eyes appeared to be staring directly at Angie. She knew it was just a trick of the light, but still she shivered.