Three Times Chosen

by Alan J. Garner

  Transfixed by the random coloured flashes which lit up the dull black rectangular cover plates of the upright databanks like Christmas trees, Durgay neglected seeing the diamond shaped device suspended directly over the tank on the tip of a metal spindle, sheathed in a sleeve of fibre optic cabling, extruding flimsily downwards from the central flat whiteness of the vaulted ceiling. More observant than her beau, Najoli stared studiously upwards at the armchair-sized octahedron mutely pulsating with its own inscrutable lightshow, equally mesmerised by the polychromatic display. She was ideally placed to hear the discordant voice emanating from the object of her fascination.

  "Online systems awaiting command responses."

  "Boys and girls, meet your deity,” Abe said by way of presentation. “Say hello, Dog."

  "Hello Dog."

  Lowering her clicks to a confidential whistle, Najoli whispered to the automaton, “Nupterus speaks rather formally."

  The robot shrugged. “He doesn't get out much."

  Tearing his eyes away from the hypnotically blinking lights, Durgay nitpicked, “He's formless,” utterly disappointed by the reality. Racing across thousands of underwater miles, along the way enduring numerous hardships, surmounting formidable obstacles, dodging a plethora of dangers, to be greeted at the finish line by a disembodied voice without even a heralding fanfare was nothing short of a demoralising comedown.

  "But isn't that the essence of faith,” reasoned Abe, “belief without substance. There are a great many invisible things that go to make up the universe. Just because your eyes can't behold a thing doesn't mean it's unreal.

  "Which is why you have me to act as intermediary. I'll give your worship a physicality you can more easily relate to.” The robot emitted a rueful laugh. “I suppose in one way I was intentionally built for just this purpose, existing as a go-between for creator and creations. My life wasn't always so belittled. But that story is not your concern. Methinks curiosity alone did not compel you to journey all the way from ... ?

  About to answer, Durgay was puzzled when Najoli clamped a restraining hand over his mouth. “Nupterus doesn't know? I always figured God saw and heard everything."

  "He's a trifle short-sighted at times.” The robot's eye lens aperture contracted. “You can't expect Him to oversee every event in Creation. Omnipotence is vastly overrated."

  "I want to speak to Him directly,” Najoli demanded.

  Durgay flinched. She was digging her tail into the sand again.

  Abe consented. “Be my guest. He won't bite."

  Only because He has no mouth the mermaid wisecracked to herself. Feeling silly addressing the domed ceiling, Najoli nevertheless conversed with thin air. “Nupterus, er, hallo.” Her hail went unanswered.

  Privately amused, the robot made the helpful suggestion, “He does prefer to be called Dog. Those in power exhibit a tendency for quirkiness."

  Preaching to the converted, Najoli considered Cerdic's idiosyncrasies a darn site worse. Trying again, she elicited a chirp of response. “Ah, Dog, how are you today?"

  "Functioning within acceptable parameters of efficiency."

  Najoli glanced questioningly at the robot. “He's the picture of health,” Abe translated. “Go ahead. Ask Dog something else."

  "Do you know who I am?"

  In the deafening silence that followed her query, Najoli's imagination had her almost hearing the Sea God's almighty brain ticking over. She could not help but judder from the unsettling notion of being invisibly scrutinised.

  "Multiple scan complete. Database comparison confirmed. Species: Homo Aquaticus. Subject: post pubescent female."

  Again, she looked to Abe to interpret.

  "He's saying what's already known. You're a seamaid."

  "Bit longwinded,” Durgay critiqued.

  "Indulge Him,” the robot said. “Using big words makes Him sound more intelligent."

  Dog's assessment went on unprompted. “Physiological status: optimal, dermal abrasions not impairing function. Pausing ... ovarian disorder detected."

  Abe's demeanour changed noticeably. Startling the Merfolk by swivelling its head around 180 degrees to point at a cluster of alternating wall lights, the robot chimed in godspeak, “Quantify medical abnormality. Is it cystic perchance?"

  "Negative. Nil cysts and tumours discernible in ovaries."

  "So what is the nature of her complaint?"

  "Najoli's ill?” Durgay shared the automaton's worry.

  She naturally joined in. “I'm don't feel sick."

  "Be quiet, the pair of you,” Abe admonished, “and I'll find out.” Redirecting his gaze onto the gaily-lit polyhedron overhead, the animated robot's tinny voice rang with authority. “Dog, isolate and identify condition."

  "Absence of fallopian tubes."

  "Specific cause?"

  "Running probabilities. Standby. Ninety-nine per cent certainty of congenital defect."

  "Prognosis then."

  "Infertility."

  "Abe, care to put what mumbo jumbo Nupterus said into Cerat for me."

  The manbot held nothing back, giving it to the mergirl straight. “The good news is, you aren't afflicted with a wasting disease—you won't be dying from cancer. The bad news is, you'll never become a mother."

  For Najoli, the newsflash was heartbreaking. While not hankering to have children perse, to be denied the prospect of motherhood, robbed of that fundamental womanly choice without so much as a consultation, was an injustice. Durgay, giving no previous thought to fatherhood, now never would.

  Riding roughshod over the saddened mermaid's unspoken feelings, Abe demanded to be told, “What reason brought you here? Why have you come?"

  Seeing that his silent mergirlfriend was miles away, mulling things over in the privacy of her own troubled thoughts, it was left up to Durgay to plead their case, even if he considered any action taken by Nupterus, Dog, or whatever name the Lord of Seas and Skies fancied going by, would come woefully late to spare Castle Rock. The lifelong, duty bound Seaguard trainer still had to try.

  Putting his arm comfortingly around Najoli's shoulder, he revealed, “We're emissaries, here to entreat the Sea God's help to deliver our merpeople from the clutches of an invading enemy overswimming the bountiful reef we've called home since the oceans filled up.” His gill slits flapped at double time to restore oxygenated seawater to his depleted system after such a wordy statement.

  "Dog. Initiate threat task analysis mode,” Abe instructed.

  "Complying."

  The automaton proceeded to fire a barrage of questions at Durgay. “Who is this enemy you speak of? From where have they originated? How many do they number in relation to your own populace? When did they invade? Precisely where is this reef you inhabit?"

  Reeling from the interrogative robot's hassling, the Fisher blurted out his responses mechanically, as was Abe's intent. Honesty was best provoked in rapid rejoinders that left the answerer no time to deliberate. Lies were the product of overthinking.

  "Landhoppers. The reef next door. Too many to count. Sometime ago. In warmer southern seas."

  Hardly informative, Abe tried to get his polished head around the concise disclosures. “I'm unfamiliar with the term Landhoppers. Define what they are for Dog's benefit."

  "A pain in the peduncle,” bitched Durgay.

  "That's unspecific and not at all helpful. Dog, can you do any better?"

  "Searching database. Please wait.” That annoying pause from the supernatural being while He pondered. “Search complete. No matches found."

  Durgay began to doubt Nupterus's all-powerfulness. The creator should be providing answers, not seeking them.

  "Okay, we'll skip the bad guys for now,” Abe decided, concentrating his faculties on geography instead. “We tracked you from the time you crossed the strait dividing the two continents."

  "We?"

  "I mean Dog did. He allows me to double check His surveillance."

  "Didn't you say it's impossible for Nupterus to obse
rve everything in the undersea world?"

  "I never said impossible, only that it's difficult to keep track of it all. Dog likes to keep abreast of the monumental stuff and your visit is of epic importance. Your god is always watching. You'll just never be aware when He's eavesdropping.

  "Anyhow, you were monitored the moment you crossed the equatorial boundary line bisecting the tropical and temperate seas. I just want to determine your exact point of origin. Does your reef lie farther south along the eastern coastline?"

  Durgay became recalcitrant, feeling awkward about giving away the location of his home waters, even if it was to god's personal assistant.

  "Come, seaman. Dog can't be expected to bestow aid if you aren't completely forthcoming. Where is your reef situated?"

  "On the other side of the dry sands."

  "The continental desert at the bottom of the southern landmass? Is that what you're referring to?"

  Durgay nodded unsurely, proceeding to describe the identifying sea stack marking the location of Bounty Reef in Cetari terms, hoping the robot would comprehend.

  Abe appeared he did, stating happily, “That places your home on the lower west coast. Now we're making progress. Next, the whereabouts of the Landhopper reef relative to yours.” For that the robot needed to enlist god's capacious help, the Fisher relating how Lunder was not so much a reef but the atoll crowning it. “If you'll excuse me but a moment, I must confer with Dog via a direct interface. Don't misread this as my excluding you from the conversation. It is simply a case of accelerating the process. I'm sure you want this dreadful matter resolved as quickly as possible."

  "Even sooner than that,” Durgay hoped.

  Before walking smoothly over to the hugest of the database consoles, the robot apologised. “I'd offer refreshments, except the Station has not hosted the Cetari in many a long century and it'll take time to rustle up some victuals. I myself have no need of food. It's not as if I can run down to the local store to purchase snacks for you."

  Holding aloft the fish Fultark caught, Durgay said, “That's okay. We brought our own.” Fascinated by the robot plugging its index fingers into ports on the blinking façade, the Fisher waited for Abe to be totally immersed in soundless conversation with the Sea God before shaking Najoli back to the present. “I think it's happening,” he smiled, directing her gaze onto the busied robot surrounded by a flurry of winking lights. “I'm certain of Nupterus's willingness to help the merpeople."

  Returning his look of profound trust with tearless, wounded eyes, the barren mermaid poured coldwater on her lover's enthusiasm. “Has He actually agreed to intervene?"

  "Not in so many words, but I'm confident He will."

  "There's something fishy about all this, Durgs. Call me crazy—"

  "I wouldn't dare to."

  "—but it seems to me like this Abe is in charge of Nupterus. It's as if the Sea God's been enslaved. Is that even possible? Can a god fall victim to, to..."

  "A stronger god,” Durgay finished her sentence. Once again perceiving life in his limiting, but occasionally insightful, cut and dried fashion, the direst thought crossed the Fisher's mind; a notion so horrible it made his ultra sensitive skin crawl with revulsion. “What if the Landhoppers worship their own deity?” he tentatively hypothesised, afraid of sounding blasphemous, but possessed by the abominable idea.

  The warming water did nothing to prevent a chill shivering Najoli. The insinuation of an inter-god tussle seemed too farfetched an idea to even entertain! Could Abe be in cahoots with whatever idol the foul frogmen deified? Or was there more to the robot than met the Cetari twinned eyes?

  As if reading her mind, Durgay pulled Najoli underwater with him and spouted confidentially, “Abe gets about on two legs and resides on dry ice. That's scarily close to how I've seen the Landhoppers live. I hate to think, let alone say it, but on reflection that automatically makes him suspect in anyone's brook."

  Crazily defending the unfamiliar robot, the once strongly irreligious mermaid made the point, “But don't the Landhoppers do just that, hop on land? Abe does neither by walking on frozen water. That certainly marks him different."

  "So you're saying we ought to trust him."

  Undecided, Najoli touched the Fisher's arm for reassurance. “There's only one male I don't mistrust in this seaworld."

  Flattered by her confidence in him, Durgay could not reconcile his uncertainties. They had come such a long way and not just in sea miles. Najoli's miraculous conversion to Cetari religion, as well as his own seesawing faith, was being challenged by the robot's very mysteriousness.

  She tested his belief. “What's your impression of Nupterus?"

  "The name change will take some getting used to. But that should please the lyricists of the Songline Scriptures."

  "How so?"

  "Rhyming Dog will be easier than Nupterus."

  "Singing aside, what's your gut reaction to the Sea God?"

  'I rightly expected to be awed in His presence.” Durgay swallowed nervously. “But He..."

  "Frightens you?"

  Ashamed of his anxiety, the Fisher could only nod.

  Again asserting herself as the mentally stronger half of their oddball pairing, Najoli feared, “We're in over our heads, Durgs. Way over our heads."

  Being submerged, the couple had no way of seeing Abe's head swivel eerily around to face the pool, his telescopic camera-eye zeroing in on the debating merfolk. The robot's visible snooping was unnecessary. Carefully hidden recording devices were planted in the tank walls, permitting Abe to listen in on the private conversation, as well as read their corresponding body language from any angle. And what the metal eavesdropper discerned was angst-ridden scepticism.

  "Journeying here must have been very taxing for you both."

  The robot's intrusive voice gagged the whispering Cetari. Caught out, they glanced guiltily about, expecting Abe's remonstration. Worryingly, the sentient machine sounded unbothered by them privately conversing. “You must be incredibly weary and in need of rest."

  "The nap you forced on us took care of our tiredness. We're feeling fully refreshed. Aren't we, Durgs?"

  "Fit as a fiddler crab."

  "You're fibbing. Elevated heart and respiratory rates, accelerated pulse, heightened blood pressure ... all indicators you are covering that up. Sleep is mandated. Besides, Dog informs me His deliberations will take some time."

  "What is there to mull over?” argued Durgay. “The Cetari urgently require His help to fend off the Landhoppers. All He has to do is send it."

  "That overview is quixotic. Other factors must be taken into account, godly considerations weighed up before a decision is reached. I recommend you take the opportunity this downtime presents to recharge your organic batteries."

  Gleaning the robot's recommendation came as more demand than request, and never one for backing down, Najoli clashed wills with Abe by crassly refusing. “We're not the least bit sleepy."

  "Oh, but I insist.” The robot's pushiness more than matched the mermaid's intransigence.

  Durgay suddenly complained. “This water has a funny taste to it."

  Giddiness nauseated Najoli quicker than she could react. “Abe's put something in the water!” she managed to surmise before collapsing and sinking to the bottom of the pool, joined there moments later by her comatose merboyfriend.

  The sneaky automaton's projected voice laughed hollowly, as the louvered vents responsible for covertly introducing the colourless anaesthetic fluid into the tank returned to their closed position. “Sleep with the fishes, my dear Cetari."

  Chapter Twenty

  Excitement rippled through the wanderers like a nervous tremor. Unable to hold in his expectation or impatience any longer, Lasbow charged out to greet the returning searchers, dragging his startled bodyguards with him. Ever since word filtered back to the merfolk how the lead scouts had swum across one of the Cetari explorers and were bringing him in, the elated refugees buzzed with the assumption that finding
the missing merman coincided with discovering the sunken city. The Merking had received no such report, hence his impetuosity. He wanted to determine the facts, to learn firsthand if the recovered Fisher was successful in his titanic endeavour. He was desperate to know if Atlantis had indeed been rediscovered.

  What he disappointingly found was the former jailer slumped between two of his compatriots like a wet rag. Propped up at the elbows, the flaccid Seaguardian appeared limper than the hundred-foot long kelp fronds wafting in the onshore swell.

  Coming across the coastal seaweed that clogged the rocky shores of the eastern seaboard in thick, impenetrable rafts lying just outside the surf line proved an unexpected boon for the hungry nomads. Astoundingly nutritious, the drearily hued oarweed, tinted every conceivable shade of brown, was as bland tasting as it looked, but amply nourished its diners, supplementing their fish diet with much needed salads. The Cetari pickers were not alone in harvesting the temperate ocean crop. Sea cows languidly browsed the lavish kelp beds in numberless herds like waterborne buffalo, their constant, reflex flatulence bubbling the seawater with impolite grunts and burps. Disinclined to mingle with the mammoth sirenians, the snobbish merfolk reaped the seamoss growing on the outer edges of the kelp forests, letting the strangely spoken behemoths wallow in and graze the compacted central clumps undisturbed, the fronds draping across their elephantine bodies like string vests.