by Ally Blue
“She walked from the moon pool to the Antarctica ravine in the dark and went right over the edge. Everything got all blurry and . . .” Mo circled his free hand in the air, searching for the words to describe it. “I dunno. It was pretty bizarre. You’ll just have to see. Anyway, it was like that for a few seconds, then she came out the other side into Richards Deep, and . . . Well, this is gonna sound really strange, but I’m pretty sure the mermaids carried her to the top.”
Armin let out a weak laugh. “Everything about this is strange. What happened after that?”
“She walked off into the dark. And kept on walking in the dark, until there at the end, which you saw. She must’ve gone off somewhere and turned around, since she ended up right where she’d started. At first she talked in French and German now and then, but she stopped after a while. It seemed like she had more and more trouble breathing.”
“Her Mist was running low.”
It was the most obvious explanation. But Armin sounded as doubtful as Mo felt. They regarded one another in solemn silence.
Across the lab, Dr. Jhut gasped loudly. Armin dropped his hand and jumped out of his chair. “Mandala? What’s happened?”
She lifted her head from the microscanner. Her eyes were glassy. “Do you recall a little while ago when we were talking about those unusual organic samples from the suit and how they seemed to have characteristics of both the scales and the skin flakes?”
Hybrid, Armin and Dr. Jhut whispered in Mo’s memory. His pulse sped up.
“Yes, of course.” Armin cut a swift, wide-eyed glance at Mo. “You’ve learned something?”
“I think so. That is, if I have . . .” She trailed off into a high-pitched laugh at right angles with her usual cool, professional demeanor. “Christ, Armin. Whatever this came from is part human and part mermaid.”
Shocked and fascinated, Armin hurried across the room to study the sample for himself. Sure enough, what he saw on the microscan was something entirely new. Pure elation ratcheted up his heartbeat in spite of all the horrors surrounding this particular finding. “Mandala, this is incredible. Absolutely unprecedented.” He stepped back from the scanner and turned the grin he couldn’t hide to his friend. “Congratulations, Doctor. You’ve just made history.”
She stared at him as if he’d grown tentacles. He realized—too late, of course—that she hadn’t even bothered not to look him in the eye. He dropped his gaze.
She didn’t appear to notice. “You’ll excuse me if I delay any celebrations until we all actually survive this nightmare, Doctor.”
Behind him, Mo laughed. “Oh, come on. You made a huge discovery. Pat yourself on the back while you still can.”
Armin bit the insides of his cheeks to keep himself from laughing in his turn. He rather enjoyed Mo’s pitch-black sense of humor.
Mandala, however, did not. She made an impatient noise. “Good Lord. Is no one actually concerned with our survival? Do neither of you truly see the implications of this finding to our situation here?”
To his shame, Armin found that he hadn’t thought of it that way. He’d thought of what might have happened to Klaudia Longenesse and of the scope of the discovery itself. But he hadn’t yet applied it to their own plight here on BathyTech 3.
He didn’t like what happened when he thought of it like that.
“You think people are changing, don’t you?” Mo’s voice was as serious as Armin had ever heard it. Wheels squeaked against the polycrete floor as he pushed back his chair. He stood, walked to Armin, and slid an arm around his waist. “Is that what this contagion thing is all about?”
God, what a terrible thought. Unfortunately, it felt right. Armin slipped his arm around Mo and leaned against his side.
“I’m not certain, of course. But I’m afraid it might be.” Mandala peered at Armin as if she were trying to see through his skull. “I wish you would look at me. I don’t believe I’m going to catch it from you. Your eyes aren’t glowing, either of you, and I’m as certain as it’s possible to be that that theory is correct.”
Armin’s stomach rolled. “You don’t know that.”
“No. I don’t. But thus far I’ve seen nothing to make me believe there’s any danger of infection—if that’s the correct word at all; I’m not sure it is—via someone who’s shown no actual symptoms. In fact, if we want to be absolutely strict about it, the only evidence we have connecting the brain growths to the changes the others experienced is strongly circumstantial. We have no smoking gun, as it were. It’s all very strange, but one can’t ignore the evidence.”
Armin stared resolutely at the floor. “You’re probably right. But I don’t think it can hurt to be careful. I’d rather be overly cautious than not cautious enough when it comes to your life.”
“I don’t believe I’m being incautious, but I understand.” She pressed her fingertips to her temples. “Well then. Mr. Rees, suppose we watch your video one more time? I think I’d like to see it.”
Mo wrinkled his nose. “Okay, sure.”
“I know you don’t want to.” Armin patted Mo’s hip. “But I think I have an idea that will make it much more interesting and enlightening for us all.”
To Armin’s relief, he was right. The special filter he’d wanted to run the video through turned the permanent night of the deepest ocean to a blue-lit ghost world. Strange, cold, and uninviting—but visible, which was the point.
“I didn’t know we had this.” Mo pointed at the video, where the filter illuminated a narrow ledge winding through a previously unmapped portion of Richards Deep. “How the hell did you find it?”
“I actually had Dr. Youssouf install it before we arrived, in case we needed it for something like this. Dr. Longenesse invented this technology, back in our younger days. She was always the clever one.” Talking about his friend and long-time colleague hurt. Especially when Armin thought he knew now what had happened to her. “Well. Anyway. There you are. Thanks to her invention, we’re able to see what’s happening to—” He stopped. Breathed. “To her. Assuming it actually is her.”
Mo didn’t say anything, but took his hand and laced their fingers together. Armin was grateful.
The three of them watched while the woman in the suit—Klaudia; don’t pretend it isn’t her—walked along the ledge in the cyan-tinged dark. Every once in a while, a mermaid emerged from the blackness ahead, as if leading the way. Their eyes shone a brilliant cobalt.
After a while, Armin felt a sense of familiarity creep over him. He studied the video with a frown. He couldn’t help feeling he’d seen the spot before, though that was obviously impossible.
Unless . . .
The hairs stood up along his arms as the answer came to him. At the same time, Mo and Mandala sat ramrod straight in their chairs, all their attention on the 3-D as the woman in the suit reached out and placed a perfectly round, perfectly featureless black rock atop an outcropping on the wall.
If Armin was honest with himself, he had to admit he’d suspected this from the moment he first saw the words Varredura Longa on the abandoned walker in Richards Deep. Still, a suspicion he’d not consciously acknowledged didn’t have nearly the same impact as seeing it happen right in front of his eyes.
Of course, knowing Klaudia had brought the object here and knowing why were two very different things. Learning the why promised to pose a much more formidable hurdle than finding out what had happened in the first place.
Mo sighed. “I wish you’d been able to recover the records from the Varredura Longa. Maybe we could figure out the reason why Dr. Longenesse brought that thing here.”
“If there is one.” Youssouf stopped pacing for the first time since she’d arrived in the lab to see the pertinent bit of footage for herself. “Who says she had an actual reason? If she was infected, she could’ve been acting on something her psychosis told her to do.”
“I’d agree with you, except for the fact that this object—” Mandala gestured at the vault where the thing sat behind loc
ked doors “—seems to be the trigger for the events both on the Varredura Longa and here.”
Youssouf frowned. “I see your point about here. But how do you figure it set off what happened on the VL?”
A bitter half smile tugged at Armin’s mouth. “They called us there in the first place to examine something odd they’d found in the ocean. It stands to reason that the object is that thing. Especially now that we know both objects are one and the same.” God. For the first time in his career, he wished the puzzle pieces didn’t fit so neatly together.
Mandala nodded, her brow creased in thought. “It’s possible that her psychosis caused her to walk into the ocean with the object. But I find it very difficult to believe that a person suffering a psychotic break could find this portal—or whatever the hell it is—travel from Antarctica to here with an object she knew would cause the same havoc that destroyed the Varredura Longa, and deposit it in such a strategic spot: close enough to BathyTech 3 to easily retrieve with the go-carts and walkers. It’s far too much to call it anything but deliberate.”
Youssouf’s shoulders slumped. “Good point.”
“The mermaids are at the center of this whole thing.” Everyone stared at Armin as if none of them had thought the same thing, which he found annoyingly disingenuous. He laughed, because it was either laugh or scream in their faces. “Please. All of you know it’s true. The mermaids were in Antarctica. They’re here. They carried Klaudia out of the ravine, for God’s sake.”
“We don’t have proof positive yet that it was actually Klaudia,” Mandala reminded him in her calm, remember-yourself scientist voice.
Armin rolled his eyes. “Compare the DNA tests on the skin and hair to her samples on record. We all know what you’re going to find, Mandala. We know. You’re the one who said it had to be her, for God’s sake.”
An uncomfortable silence fell. Mandala pursed her lips and looked away.
Armin went on. “The scales we found in the suit were mermaid scales. We’ve already posited that this contagion somehow changes human beings into mermaids. I don’t think they can get any more involved than that.”
Mandala aimed a cutting look at him. “I didn’t intend to suggest that the mermaids were deliberately causing it.”
“I know. I’m suggesting that.”
Silence again, charged with the newness of the idea. Armin could feel the crackle of thoughts flowing as everyone in the room digested what he’d said and decided he was right.
Mandala broke the quiet. “I believe I’ll run those DNA comparisons. We have to be certain about this.” She rose and went for the stored skin and hair samples.
Armin couldn’t argue with her logic, so he didn’t try. He leaned against Mo, who sat in the chair next to his. God, he’d never been so exhausted in his life.
Mo draped his arm around Armin’s shoulders. “So. What next?”
“Not a fucking clue.” Youssouf plopped into the nearest chair, yawning hard. “I’m open to suggestions.”
Everyone studied the floor. No one spoke.
The idea hit Armin hard enough to knock the tiredness right out of him. “The mermaids. Of course.” He leaped to his feet and spun to face the group before any of them could ask the questions he knew were in their heads. “We should tag one of the mermaids and track it. We could see where it goes and what it does. If they’re truly involved in this, or have created this contagion either purposefully or inadvertently, maybe tracking one will at least give us a direction for further investigation.”
“Hm. Well, maybe we won’t learn anything, but maybe we will.” Youssouf rubbed a hand through her hair. “I think it’s worth a try.”
Mandala set the sealed DNA sample containers on the counter and crossed her arms. She didn’t look pleased, but she didn’t argue either. “How do we go about it?”
“It’s no different from tagging any other animal.” Armin went through it in his mind. Yes, it should work. “We find one, place the tracker, and let technology do the rest.”
Mo let out a harsh laugh. “Something tells me putting on the tracker’s gonna be a bitch.”
“They’re clearly a highly intelligent species, which makes it more difficult. But there are time-proven methods for tagging animals clever enough to catch on to your game. It won’t be easy, but it is absolutely doable. I’ve tagged a great many animals in my day. I’m confident I can do it.” Armin almost met Dr. Youssouf’s eyes. He stopped himself just in time. “Amara, do we have the proper equipment here?”
She nodded. “Nobody seriously thought we’d ever need any of it. But BathyTech made sure we were fully stocked anyhow, just in case.”
“Good thing for us, I guess.” Mo rose slowly, both hands pressed to the small of his back. “Goddamn, I’m beat. I guess we have to do this right away, huh?”
“I think we should, yes.” Armin glanced at Mandala, who was loading the last DNA sample into the tester, then at Dr. Youssouf. Neither disagreed with him, so he continued. “I’m sorry. I know we’re all worn out. But if we’re ever going to get control of this situation, we have to find out what, if anything, the mermaids have to do with it all. It’s no good stumbling in the dark trying to find a solution when we’re not even sure of the problem.”
“I agree with you that we need to root out the cause of this . . .” Mandala started the testing machine, then lifted one hand and let it drop, as if she’d given up on finding the appropriate name for what was happening here. “This confounded situation we find ourselves in. However, I don’t believe we can afford to simply wait and see what the mermaids choose to show us. If they indeed show us anything.” She stood from the work station stool, one hand on the counter as if to hold herself up. Armin suspected she was as falling-down tired as he was. “I plan to do further testing on the samples we have, as well as the object. No, Armin, before you ask, I have no idea what else I can possibly test on the damn rock. But I shall see what, if anything, the samples suggest.”
Youssouf eyed her with a tired smile. “I’d help you out, but I need to get back to the med bay and try to figure out if there’s anything at all I can do for the folks who’re already infected.” She sighed. “Haven’t had any luck so far, but you don’t get anywhere by giving up.”
“This is true.” Mandala hid a yawn behind her hand. “If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know.”
“I will, thanks. Though you’ll do a lot more good if you can work out how to keep anybody else from getting infected.” Youssouf hauled herself out of her chair. “Well. Nothing gets done by sitting around talking about it. You boys get Jem and go catch us a mermaid.”
Armin caught Mo’s eye. Mo grinned. Armin grinned back. No one had ever tagged and studied a mermaid before. In spite of everything, Armin found himself looking forward to it.
Unfortunately, actually getting a tracker on one of the elusive creatures proved more difficult than they’d imagined, even taking the species’ high intelligence into account. Armin couldn’t help admiring them, in spite of his growing frustration.
“Fuck a goddamn duck!” Mo spun in his chair and kicked the bulkhead the third time the mermaid he’d targeted evaded the tracker.
Jemima, slouched in the pilot’s chair next to him, shoved his knee. “Hey, leave the equipment alone.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He glared over his shoulder at the tiny mechanized dot on the view screen. It hovered in the water roughly thirty meters from the go-cart, waiting for further instructions. This spot, less than a quarter klick from the strange canyon, crawled with mermaids, but that only seemed to make them harder to catch. “How in the hell do they know? Every fucking time.”
Armin shook his head. “Honestly? I have no idea.” He patted Mo’s knee. “Don’t let it bother you. I didn’t do any better than you did. Apparently this is the exception to the rule that automatic taggers are more accurate.”
“Hm.” Mo stood and started pacing. His long legs ate up the small space. “Hey, Jem?”
She hal
f turned to roll her eyes at him. “What?”
“How much Mist we got in the walkers?”
“Enough for maybe four hours.”
“That’s all?”
She swiveled the rest of the way around to raise her eyebrows at him. “I got here the same time as you, Rees. You two were in such a tearing hurry you about fidgeted out of your skins waiting for me to do safety checks on the suits. When did you reckon I was gonna top up the Mist?”
“Point.” He paced some more, his forehead furrowed so hard Armin wondered if it hurt. “Well, the go-cart tank’s pretty full, if we need more. So I think we’re in good shape. Shouldn’t take that long anyway.”
“What do you have in mind?” Armin asked, though he thought he knew.
Mo’s mouth curved into a grim smile. “You and me are going walking.”
“What, you think you’ll be able to get a tracker on one of those slippery fuckers by hand when you couldn’t do it with the auto-tagger?” Jemima made a dismissive noise. “Good luck with that, cowboy.”
“Well, the automatic system’s not getting the job done. Those damn things are too smart. Either we give up, or we try it the old-fashioned way.” Mo trained his determined stare on Armin. “What about it, Doc? You coming?”
Armin’s spirit leaped. Since the advent of the auto-tagger as everyday equipment six or seven years ago, he’d rarely gotten the chance to find and tag an animal using his hands, his eyes, and his wits. He missed it.
He rose, doing his best not to grin like an excited child. “I certainly am. Let’s suit up.”
“You two watch yourselves out there,” Jemima called as he and Mo headed for the moon pool bay.
“Don’t worry, we’ll be careful.” Mo turned to walk backward while he spoke to Jemima. “Keep the cart dark while we’re outside.”
She gave him a thumbs-up.
Shooting Armin a quick, enthusiastic smile, Mo faced forward again and picked up his pace. Armin followed.
“What makes you think we’ll be able to accomplish this by hand when the auto-tagger couldn’t?” he asked.