by M. N. Arzu
Murmurs filled the room, as suspicion and fear took hold over the men who would decide Drake’s immediate future.
“What are your thoughts, Major?” the Secretary asked. “You’ve only said why this might be wrong for us. What about them? What do they lose if we don’t free their man?”
“Drake is the highest-ranking member willing to negotiate with us. Without him, they might as well decide negotiations at this point are too risky, and try again in a few decades. Like the admiral said, they live long lives. They can afford to be patient. That said, if we do decide to cut ties and treat them as a hostile nation, their individual members have everything to lose. They’ll disappear deeper than before.”
Coleman fixed him with a glacial stare. “Those individual members are our only source of information. We will never gain any real data by diplomatic means, because we won’t know anything they won’t want us to know.”
“And kidnapping one of them in a shadow operation is going to help our cause of exchanging information? Is that what you hoped to gain when you detained an unknown merman last month?”
The silence that followed was telling. Nobody here had known about Adrian Thorne. Not even the Secretary of Defense.
Major White was not going to leave that conference room for the next six hours.
38
The Best Laid Plans
The hotel by the roadside had a decent lobby, and a surprisingly comfortable bed, which Matt had sat on for all of two minutes before Adrian had wanted to go out for a walk. In the past eight hours, Matt had learned a couple of things about his brother: he liked open spaces, and he didn’t like to stay still.
They had walked for miles, wandering into the forests around the hotel, where Matt had done most of the talking. He’d stayed away from any Christopher-related topics—Adrian always sneered at those—and centered more on his time on the swimming team, his plans for the future, and their mutual disdain for The City.
Most of all, Adrian was curious about how Scott had lost his telepathy and yet the little brat was still giving Matt advice on how to trace.
“So, wait. This guy from The City used Scott to fry Wallace’s mind?”
“Pretty much.”
“It’s a wonder Scott’s not dead…” Adrian whispered in awe.
“But he’s blind. I mean, telepathically blind. You see him and there’s nothing there. It was eerie the first few days. We just didn’t know how to react. And the weirdest part is that he was teaching us, you know? Before this happened, he was teaching Christopher and I how to sneak into the Council’s meetings.”
“He was?”
“Yeah, he’s fearless like that,” Matt said nonchalantly, secretly feeling proud of his little brother.
“So you were triangulating?”
Matt nodded. “He was using Christopher to reach further and get into Julian’s mind, and was taking me along for the ride. But the headaches we had afterwards… Man, worst pain of my life.”
“I can teach you how to triangulate in a heartbeat,” Adrian said as they were getting closer to the hotel. Nightfall was coming, and they were both hungry.
“You can’t triangulate without a third merman,” Matt said, pointing out the obvious flaw in the plan. Adrian rolled his eyes.
“It’s not that hard. It’s just a matter of distance and concentration,” Adrian said, shrugging. “You see their minds as threads, or colored currents that you can follow in your head. It’s trickier if they’re sleeping, but still viable. Some minds, like Julian’s, are really bright and strong. If you’re lucky enough, you can hop into it and get further down the road. It’s pretty useful when you’re smuggling at night and need to know where the cops are.”
“You have a telepathic network?”
Adrian nodded. “You can expand for miles with only four or five guys on the line. It’s so easy I can practically do it in my sleep.”
They entered the hotel and went straight to the restaurant, where everyone was watching the TV. For a moment, Matt guessed there was a game, and then did a double take when he saw Drake on the screen.
Beside him, Adrian matched Matt’s face of incredulity with one of his own.
“What the hell is going on?” Matt said.
“He’s so not going to like this…” his brother muttered. When Matt turned questioning eyes at him, he amended, “You better call your dad. I’m sure he’s not liking the fact that this is on TV and you’re not under his roof.”
* * *
“It’s on every damned channel,” Aurel said, not looking straight at the monitor as she usually did, but to the side, following the news in Japan. Julian had called her at 2:00 a.m. her time, and six hours later, the four members of the Council had been on and off again as each of them had to solve several problems and calls from concerned merfolk.
“How did he even manage to broadcast live?” Lavine asked for the hundredth time. Because he’s Drake was the only answer Julian had, but even he had been taken by surprise.
“But you say painting the Navy as Ray’s guardian angels was not your idea?” Mireya pressed, while mounting skepticism fought against rampant optimism on the internet.
“Not at all,” Julian confirmed. “I haven’t contacted Veritas yet, but frankly, there’s nothing we can do about that. For one reason or the other, they chose to break the news this way. Whether it’ll be effective or not has yet to be seen.”
“Drake’s playing all his cards in one bold move,” Aurel said, sighing with frustration. “If the Navy doesn’t cave to the pressure, he might as well have signed his death sentence.”
“If Drake doesn’t come back, we have to retreat completely out of this mess,” Lavine said, her eyes full of anxiety. “I have fifteen merfolk flying right now to my home in order to get back to The City. I can’t keep silent anymore. The City needs to know what’s going on.”
Both Mireya and Aurel remained silent, knowing as well as Julian did that Lavine was right. The City merfolk needed to know what was happening on the surface.
“Before we do that,” Mireya said, earning a sigh of relief from Lavine, “there is the matter of Adrian Thorne.”
Anger rose in Julian’s veins; anger mixed with fear, the worst combination for a parent when it came to their children. He was still trying to understand what had possessed Matthew to go with him.
“Adrian told Matthew about the bug in my office. I’ve swept the entire house, there was only that one. I have to believe Adrian has a good explanation for why he did that. Matthew wouldn’t have stayed with him otherwise.”
“With all due respect, Julian, Matthew is a seventeen-year-old trying to connect with a brother he didn’t know about,” Aurel said. “He’ll say anything to protect him. You can’t possibly believe him right now.”
“I think I know my own children, Aurel,” Julian answered in a frosty tone.
“Let’s all calm down,” Mireya said, sensing what kind of storm Aurel was bringing on herself by questioning Julian’s son. “Why Matt did what he did is irrelevant to this discussion. What we know for a fact is that Adrian was taken by the Navy. Major White confirmed that to my daughter, along with his release two weeks later. It’s not hard to imagine the Navy put him on spying duties. If it was against his will or not, that’s something only Adrian can answer.”
“If he’s willingly aiding anyone against the Council and merfolk, then he deserves a serious punishment,” Aurel added. “We might need The City to intervene in his trial.”
The accusations against Adrian were serious enough that the Council would want an impartial judge: A tracer to go through Adrian’s memories and understand how the events had unfolded and the decisions Adrian had made. They had set that rule a century ago to establish transparency in their dealings with merfolk disputes. No one who had ever brought a problem to them had wanted The City to be involved, but this was the first time the accused was actively trying to get them exposed.
As if Matt knew how the fate of his brother
was being decided, a message appeared on his screen.
Just saw the news about Drake. Keep me updated if anything happens.
Come home, Julian started to type, but he already knew Matt’s answer: not yet. Matt wasn’t asking him for permission to be with his brother; he was telling him he was going to be with Adrian for a couple of days, regardless of what Julian thought. He couldn’t order Matt to come back any more than he could force Adrian to bring his son back.
Come home when you’re done, he sent instead. Be careful out there.
* * *
“This day is never going to end…” Diana said while Nathan tiredly smiled, opening the door to get out of the conference room. It was almost midnight and their work was far from done.
The UN committee wasn’t happy about the situation. At all. Nathan had kept them informed of the SWIMMERs contacting him about Ray, and of course, the committee knew that the merman in captivity was Drake—not Ray—the one and only merman to champion the UN talks they were so eager to have. So everyone in that room wanted Drake out.
The problem was the narrative: Both merfolk and the SWIMMERs had chosen to say Ray was still alive, and had been nursed back to health with the full support of the United Nations. Translation: The UN had been lying to everyone, not only the public, but all UN members, which meant one hell of a storm brewing for the eight people who sat on the Merfolk Affairs Committee.
Basically, their bosses were pissed off at them for throwing them under the bus without a warning. Well, they were pissed off at Nathan. They had not suspected Diana’s involvement one bit.
“I’m sorry…” she said, placing a hand on his arm.
“I’m not,” Nathan said. “It had to be done, and they know that this seals the deal. The talks will happen because now the committee has helped them get Drake out of trouble. It’s just a matter of time.” He sighed, resigned. “All I’ve ever wanted is for these talks to happen, even if I’m not present when they actually do.”
“You’re kidding, right? Drake expects you to be there, so you’ll be there. You know our secrets,” she whispered. “You’re already ahead of the whole world.”
“Speaking of the world,” Nathan said as they started walking down the hall. Almost everyone at the United Nations offices was gone, making Diana’s heels echo slightly. “How much longer do you think the Pentagon and the Navy can keep silent?”
Both Nathan and Diana were tasked with preparing the press briefing to reiterate the UN’s position on merfolk in general, and expand on its position on this event in specific. Until the White House or the Navy released a statement, the UN would reserve any further comments. Still, they had to be ready for the upcoming press conferences, especially since Diana was the committee’s spokesperson.
“Twenty-four hours, tops. At the very least, they’ll have to acknowledge the videos. But I’m still wrapping my head around how Veritas broke the news. Having the Navy being the heroes was a stroke of genius.”
“Only if it gets Drake released. So, my apartment or yours?” Nathan asked, since they were both looking at an all-nighter to come up with their press release. “Though I gotta be honest here, I’m partial to your coffee over mine on any given day.”
She smiled as Nathan’s phone rang. Frowning at the Washington area code, he answered on the third ring.
“Nathan Forest speaking.”
She was close enough to hear the reply from the other side: “This is Major White. We need to talk.”
Suddenly, this day was really never going to end.
* * *
“He’s going to get a slap on the wrist, I’m afraid,” Major White said as both Nathan Forest and Diana Lombardi took notes. They had connected over a video conference, exchanging information on how much they knew. “Admiral Coleman calculated the risks of apprehending a known smuggler for merfolk information. He said at the very least, the merfolk Council would thank him for taking care of their problem.”
Nathan chuckled in a humorless way. “And then for letting him go two weeks later with questionable intent?”
Coleman hadn’t disclosed what he’d negotiated with the captive merman—at least not while White had been present—but there were so many holes in Coleman’s arguments he might as well have said, I did what I wanted because I wanted to.
The admiral also wanted White’s head on a silver platter for outing him so abruptly, especially since Coleman was already in hot water. Drake had gotten that live transmission out under the admiral’s watch. The whole mess the Navy was facing right now was because of his negligence.
“I bet the Pentagon was furious because he didn’t share this information earlier, not because he’d done anything against merfolk to begin with,” Diana said.
“That’s pretty close to the facts,” White admitted. “But I’m not here to discuss the inner politics of black ops. I’m here because we need to solve one crisis before we can move on to the next.”
Whoever this Adrian Thorne was, he was of little interest to White at the moment. Drake had always been his focus.
Diana stopped writing and looked him straight in the eye. “You know what the Navy’s going to say about Drake.”
“Yes, and it’s no small miracle they agreed to release him after hours of trying to weasel out of it. They might still change their minds, that’s why I contacted you as soon as I could. It won’t work without both merfolk and the United Nations playing along to back it up. The problem is the offer might not be on the table by tomorrow night.”
“I’m pretty sure the Council will agree to any reasonable deal where Drake goes free,” Diana said. “We all just want the whole thing behind us by this point.”
Nathan exchanged a look with her. “The UN is not exactly happy with how things are right now,” he explained carefully, “but we’re more than willing to hear you out.”
“In that case, this is what we’re going to do.”
39
Outreach
It was a particularly cloudless Friday morning that found Patrick finishing his breakfast at Paul McKenzie’s home. They hadn’t slept at all, filled with adrenaline of what was happening and what was to come. On the TV, the world speculated about Ray’s life and whereabouts. Behind him, McKenzie followed on his computer the news coming from every single SWIMMER headquarters on the planet.
They had coordinated the videos release at Veritas with the arrival of a dedicated SWIMMER team at the Institute of Marine Life Research, so they could have a sense of what the Navy was doing. They couldn’t enter the facilities, but they were well positioned to watch from land and sea how security had been escalating for the past hours.
Neither of them had remotely planned for what to do with the live broadcast that had followed the videos. McKenzie’s team had traced back the transmission to five miles around the Institute, so they knew it was real.
On the large TV, one of the videos had been frozen by the news network to explain the easiness that Ray displayed when it came to writing, but Patrick stared at the tail.
Do their tails change color? Or are we dealing with a different merman?
“Okay,” McKenzie said, not looking up from the computer, “Veritas should release the MRI results in an hour. Thirty-seven governments are demanding the US come clean with Ray’s true status, and ninety-three cities are organizing protests for this weekend. I’d say we’re doing pretty well for starters. What do you think the Navy’s going to say?”
“I honestly don’t know. Even if they cave in and release Ray, where are they going to do it? Thousands of people will be waiting just to snag him again. But if they don’t do it publicly, no one’s going to believe them.”
McKenzie shook his head. “No, I think—” He was interrupted by his phone, and with an apologetic nod, he stood up and took the call out of his study.
On the TV, a new host was arguing that the whole thing had to be a hoax. “If mermaids were real, we would have found them by this point!” the man said, his face growing red
.
What would Patrick give to sit down with Ray and ask him for the truth? They’re extremely intelligent, Mr. O’Connor, Julian Brooks’s words came to his memory, and he leaned back on the leather chair. What, exactly, was he chasing here?
His whole interview with Mr. Brooks was not going to be published for a few weeks. Sources needed to be found, questions to be answered, and the world’s reactions to the videos had to be gauged. Everyone was speculating how Ray had learned to write, and how fluent he was, but Patrick already knew the answers to that: He was really smart and he already knew the language.
Paul McKenzie and the SWIMMERs, along with millions of other people out there, believed in the innocence and defenselessness of this being, but Patrick wasn’t so sure. For him, this was a test: If the Navy refused to release Ray, then the US government considered the merfolk a real threat. An almost invisible enemy that had slipped through their radar for centuries, if not longer, and had been monitoring humankind from the depths of the oceans.
But if the Navy played along and released Ray, then they had to be confident on where humanity stood when it came to merfolk. It was an iffy test, he knew, but it was all he had.
Seven months was a long time for a man—or merman—to remain silent in prison. Information had to be exchanged. At the very least, the level of understanding Ray possessed had become obvious.
But if the current merman is not Ray, who is he? How long has he been in captivity? And what happened to the real Ray?
The door to the study abruptly opened, and McKenzie entered with the phone still on his ear. “Hold on a moment. Hold on.”
Patrick raised a questioning eyebrow, and McKenzie put the phone between them, hitting speaker. “Nathan Forest from the UN is on the phone. He says they’re inviting a few selected journalists to document Ray’s release. And they want SWIMMER to back it up. Did I get all that right, Dr. Forest?”