Swimming Without a Net

by MaryJanice Davidson

  “I don’t suppose…” Mekkam began hopefully.

  “Sir, that’s it. There aren’t any more. They cancelled the series,” Thomas explained.

  “Cold-blooded bastard motherfuckers.”

  “Yes, that’s exactly what the Bring Back Deadwood chat rooms were buzzing about. Too bad. Well, good-bye.”

  “You have no more cultural documents I can view?”

  “No!” Fred and Jonas shouted in unison.

  Thomas folded like origami. “Well…I could probably find something…”

  “I’m outta here,” Fred muttered. “Where’s Artur?”

  Mekkam’s gaze went faraway and after a long moment he said, “He is coming ashore now, intent on knocking on the door of your hut.”

  “You—you know that? You can find him with your mind?” Thomas asked, fascinated.

  “Of course.” Mekkam actually shrugged. “That is what it means to be king.”

  “Any of them?” Thomas was nearly stammering in his excitement. “You can find any of the Undersea Folk? Anytime you like?”

  “Of course.”

  “Is that how you found me?” Fred asked quietly.

  “Yes, Fredrika. But I felt it prudent to leave you with your mother until—”

  “Until you needed me,” she finished bitterly.

  “Until you were ready to meet your father’s people,” he said, correcting her with firm gentleness.

  “Oh.” She swallowed. “Uh. Sorry.”

  “Quite all right, my little motherfucker.”

  “That’s it.” Fred’s hand slammed down on the air lock release. “I’m outta here.”

  “Wait, wait!” Jonas cried. “Uh, Mekkam—king, sir, whatever—one thing I don’t get. About Fred’s dad, I mean.”

  Mekkam’s red eyes went narrow, but his friendly expression didn’t change. “He is one we do not speak of, Jonas. I do not expect you to understand all of our cultural—”

  “Excuse me, sir,” Fred interrupted, “but seeing as how it’s my dad, I should have a say in what happens next, don’t you think?”

  A short, difficult silence followed her statement. Given how anxious she’d been to leave the closing walls of the URV just a few seconds ago, she couldn’t believe she was finding an excuse to linger.

  “Jonas can ask whatever he wants about my family,” she finished, wondering if Mekkam could throw her into the clink, or whatever the Undersea Folk equivalent was.

  “Uh, thanks, Fred. Anyway, King Mekkam, the thing is—how could Fred’s dad hope to be king? If you have all your special king powers?”

  Thomas’s eyes were wide but he said nothing; Fred imagined he was going to suck all the information he could out of whatever Mekkam’s response was. Not that she could blame him; she planned to do the same thing.

  Mekkam was frowning, but it was thoughtful, not angry. “We know now that he could not have succeeded,” he said carefully. “And not just because many of his ‘followers’ were still loyal to my family. Yes, I can find an individual subject if I focus on that person. Yes, I can direct the thoughts of the Pelagic and project them into other minds. But none of it is unconscious. I must focus. I don’t—I can’t—”

  “Eavesdrop?” Thomas suggested.

  “Exactly, yes! Eavesdrop! I cannot do that.”

  “So, does being the king give you extra special cool powers, or do your extra special cool powers make you the king?”

  “All of my line can do as I do,” Mekkam replied, still being careful. Fred had the sense that the king did not want a misunderstanding to spring up. “Because of that, we are the royal family. Fredrika’s father felt our time was done.”

  “Was he a really strong telepath, too?”

  “Indeed, yes,” Mekkam replied simply. “He could eavesdrop. But he did not have the control my line has built over generations. He was all raw power and ambition. And that is why we are here, and he is not.”

  A slightly longer silence fell, broken by Jonas’s, “Okeydokey. Thanks for clearing that up, sir.”

  “You are a curious species,” the older man said, kindly enough. “You have done great things as a result.”

  “Well.” Jonas puffed up a little. “What can I say? We’ve been kicking ass and taking names since—”

  “Third grade,” Fred interrupted. “I’m outta here, Artur’s waiting for me.”

  “God fucking forbid His Royal Majesty be kept waiting,” Thomas muttered.

  “Play nice,” Fred scolded, inwardly smirking. “You guys are staying here to plunder your DVD collection?”

  “Indeed, yes!” Mekkam boomed.

  “Oh, I am so out of here.”

  “Me, too,” Jonas said. “Can I borrow a scuba tank to get me all the way back?”

  “For God’s sake. It’s not that long a swim.”

  “Says Fishgirl!”

  “Do not…” she said through gritted teeth, stripping out of the clothes Thomas had lent her—Jonas didn’t care, Mekkam didn’t notice, and Thomas was too busy grilling the king on his telepathy to pay attention to her now-nude state—“call me that. Ever again.”

  “You won’t even care if I drown,” Jonas said mournfully. “You’ll just swim off and go have dinner with your handsome prince.”

  “He’s not ‘my’ anything.” She paused, and grinned evilly. “And yes, I’d leave you and go have dinner.”

  Twenty-seven

  Cruelly outpacing Jonas, Fred was shaking the water out of her hair and walking up the beach less than five minutes later. To her surprise, Tennian and Rennan, the evil blue-headed Undersea Folk twins, were sitting on the beach (nude, but then, that was normal for her father’s people), watching the horizon.

  “Good evening, Fredrika,” Tennian said to the sand.

  “Hi, Tennian. Rennan.”

  He didn’t answer, just kept squinting at the horizon. Fred was about to verbally humiliate him when Tennian’s left elbow slammed into his side so hard, Fred actually heard a crack.

  “Good evening,” her brother managed, then slowly flopped over on his side and moaned into the sand.

  “We look forward to hearing your testimony tomorrow,” Tennian added, looking up and smiling shyly.

  “Do you?”

  “Also, His Highness, our prince…” This was followed by a glare at her writhing twin. “…is looking for you.”

  “Yeah, Mekkam—your king—already told me. Thanks. Nice to see you guys again.”

  “Do you—” Tennian cleared her throat and tried again. “Do you know where Thomas is?”

  “The URV. He’s picking out movies for the king to watch.”

  “Oh.”

  Fred knew it was a perfect time to leave. Rennan had shattered ribs and would think twice before snubbing her again. Artur was waiting. The king was out of her hair. Thomas was out of her hair. Tennian didn’t have the courage to interrupt her king, so she didn’t have to worry about what Tennian and Thomas were up to.

  Perfect.

  There would never be a better time to leave.

  Never.

  So: time to leave.

  “Thomas wouldn’t mind if you swam over,” Fred said to Tennian, surrendering. “In fact, he’d be delighted to see you again.”

  “Oh, but he is meeting with the king. I couldn’t—”

  “What meeting? He’s lending the king DVDs. Never mind what they are,” she added as Tennian opened her mouth. “The point is, it’s not official business. Go ahead.”

  Tennian had already leapt to her feet, showering her moaning twin with more sand. “Well. Perhaps I will. In the interest of—of—”

  “Interspecies communication,” Fred suggested, cursing herself for having a conscience.

  “Exactly!” Tennian cried, then scampered toward the surf. At once she stopped and turned. “Oh. Rennan. Good-bye.”

  “Yeah, toodles,” Fred told Rennan, who had slumped over like a beached manatee and just lay there, breathing hard.

  And off Tennian went, to
slobber all over Fred’s boyfriend. Well. One of her boyfriends. Not that they’d decided on anything official, because they certainly—

  “Little Rika?”

  “Coming!” she called, and stepped over Rennan’s body to run up the beach.

  Twenty-eight

  “I have something to show you.”

  That was all Artur had told her. Then he’d led her to the shore and they’d waded in until the water was up to their hips. Then they dove, shifting to their tail-form.

  I’ve spent enough time in the water today, don’t you think?

  I think you complain to hear the sound of your own voice, Little Rika.

  And I think you should blow your—

  Here!

  She looked…and nearly gasped. Artur had led her to what appeared to be a good half an acre of seaweed. The dark green contrasted beautifully with the bone-colored sand, and the vegetation went on and on and on.

  He caught her by the hand and led her to it, and she picked a large leaf off a plant and cautiously nibbled it. Then, growing bolder, she stuffed the waxy, plump leaf in her mouth and chewed.

  It tasted salty and green, like the seaweed that came wrapped around maki rolls in a Japanese restaurant. It was delicious!

  She grazed contentedly for a good twenty minutes, hoping Artur wouldn’t make any cruel observations as to her manatee-like behavior.

  See? I knew you would like this. Even those of us who eat fish like this.

  It’s delicious. I could make a salad out of this stuff. A little olive oil, a little rice vinegar, some sesame seeds…

  Only I could show you this.

  You, or any marine botanist.

  She heard him snort in her head, and she stuffed a last leaf in her maw. Yum! Better than spending your evenings cracking open clams like a damn otter or something.

  Little Rika, when the Pelagic is over, I wish you to come home with me.

  Whoa! That had come out of nowhere. She thought they were having salad, not discussing living arrangements. Home, the Black Sea home? That home?

  Yes.

  She thought about it and he let her; they both floated just above the seaweed spread. Finally: I think that might cause you some problems, Artur.

  Ha! My people are slow to change, but they do change. Why do you think it has taken us so long to even meet on this subject, much less make a decision?

  Tennian laid it all out for me. That if it wasn’t for you, everybody’d be dissing me all the time.

  But I am here, and I want you to be my princess. If you are my princess, no one would dare be “dissing” you.

  That’s a pretty poor reason to marry into the family. To get people to like me.

  I do not presume to know your reasons, Little Rika. I only know my own. The entire twelve months I had to stay away, there was not a day I did not think of you and wish I could be with you. Did you not think of me?

  He had swum up behind her and was holding her around the waist, where her belly met her scales. His big hands were stroking, stroking.

  Yeah, I—I thought of you. And one other.

  You do not need to answer me this moment. Or even this week. But I do not wish to return home without you, Little Rika. I understand it is much to ask. But I can give you much in return.

  And my job…?

  You can apply your training for the betterment of our people. Yours and mine. And one day you will be their queen.

  Eeeesh. I dunno, Artur. It’s a lot—

  Yes. He nuzzled the slope of her neck and she was having a hard time concentrating on what he was saying. Thinking. And I offer a lot in return. Only say you will ponder my offer, Little Rika. That is all I require of you this night.

  Okay. I’ll think about it. I promise I will.

  Then all is well. Abruptly he released her, and she was actually disappointed. Usually he got gropey and then she punched him. That was their thing.

  Maybe Artur was trying a different approach.

  Scratch maybe, she thought, swimming after him. Definitely. Question was, what was she going to do?

  She thought about it all the way back to shore.

  Twenty-nine

  She and Artur were still shaking the seawater out of their hair, ankle deep in the surf, when she heard the resort van wheeze into the driveway.

  Okay, that was weird. Everybody was here already. The staff had been dismissed. Thomas had promised them privacy. It was probably just a grocery drop-off…but at this time of night?

  She turned to Artur. “Get lost. I’m not sure who’s here.”

  “As you like, Little Rika. I already have what I want.” And with a devilish grin, he waded back into the surf, dived in, and vanished.

  Fred trotted up to the pool, where any number of towels were still scattered. She started frantically grabbing and discarding towels.

  Jonas, still dripping and panting from his swim back from the URV, was sprawled on a lounge chair. “What?” he groaned as Fred hurriedly started wrapping towels around her waist, chest, and hair. “I almost died, you know. I almost died!”

  “Shut up, you didn’t almost die. Help me.”

  “Help you with what?”

  “We’ve got company, but I don’t—”

  “Jonas? Honey?”

  Fred knew that voice. She knew that voice! She’d been hearing it for years and, these days, had been hearing it far more than she ever had before. Not just at work, but at dinners, in her apartment…and now here.

  Oh, God, please not here.

  “Jonas?”

  Horrified, Fred and Jonas stared at each other, then in the direction of the voice.

  And—yep, there she was. Staggering down the path with a suitcase the size of a hope chest. And it was probably stuffed with lab coats.

  “Dr. Barb!” Fred nearly screamed.

  Thirty

  “What the hell is she doing here?” Fred hissed.

  “Don’t hit me!” Jonas shrieked, cowering away from her. “Or at least, not the face! I just had a cucumber mask treatment.” He threw his arms across his face and staggered up from the lounge chair in one oddly graceful movement. Fred resisted the urge to hook her feet between his ankles and knock him over. “I didn’t invite her, I swear! I only—”

  “Told her where she could find you. Left detailed instructions ‘in case of emergency.’ This is obviously some sort of repellent romantic surprise!”

  “You don’t have to make it sound like she brought the plague,” he snapped back, cautiously lowering his arms. Dr. Barb was about ten yards away and gaining; Fred could hear the shorter woman puffing as she lugged the suitcase. They didn’t have much time to finish their fight. “In fact, it’s kind of sweet, her flying all the way out here to surprise me.”

  “Oh, it’s very fucking sweet, it’s fabulous, it’s wonderful!”

  “Just because you’re threatened by the appearance of anyone’s romantic commitment—”

  “Oh, like I give a shit about that right now, and you know it!”

  “Wait. What? I know you don’t give a shit, or—”

  She roared right over him. “Now not only do I have to watch my ass, all the Undersea Folk in the area have to be careful, too! And guess who’s going to get the blame for this? God damn it!” She kicked a lawn chair into the pool.

  “Stop your whining for two seconds and try to remember that everything isn’t about you. The person who’ll get blamed for this is me, which is fine, because I’m the one who’s got it coming. Now quit with the temper tantrum, force a smile onto your stupid craggy gargoyle head, and make nice with my girlfriend and your boss!” Jonas forced the entire diatribe out in one hissed breath, then his face broke into a beatific smile, and he turned and spread his arms. “Honey pie! Sweetie! Oh my God, you have no idea what a surprise your little visit is!”

  “Really?” Dr. Barb chirruped, dropping her hope chest—uh, luggage—and rushing into Jonas’s embrace. “Really, you’re not mad? I just got so lonely, and the NEA can take
care of itself for a few days, and I thought it’d be fun to fly down and surprise you.” Dr. Barb looked at Fred with anxious dark eyes. “I know your family reunion is private; Jonas and I will of course stay out of your way.”

  “Fam—uh, right, right. Yep. My family is…well, they’re just insane about their privacy. Almost pathological. You probably won’t see any of them the whole time you’re here.” God willing. “And how long are you here?”

  “Only ’til the end of the week.”

  “Come on, I’ll show you my hut. I’ll help you unpack. Could take hours,” he added over his shoulder, imparting a final “behave!” glare to Fred before they left.

  Fred jumped into the pool to retrieve the lawn chair, then gave in to her tantrum and crumpled it up into a rough ball. She watched it sink into the deep end and only wished Jonas’s mangled body was sinking beside it.

  Thirty-one

  “Artur, Artur!” She realized what she was doing, cursed her stupidity, waded in, ducked her head under, and called, Artur!

  She listened hard, and heard nothing.

  Artur! Hello? It’s an emergency! Artur!

  Still nothing. Well, shit. She wondered what her range was. King Mekkam’s appeared to be limitless; obviously run-of-the-mill Undersea Folk had to be content with the equivalent of shouting in an empty room. Or maybe that was a hybrid thing. Maybe—

  —ttle Rika.

  What? Artur? Are you coming?

  Yes, Little Rika. And she could feel him getting closer, coming into her range. Damn. She was almost getting the hang of this mermaid thing. What ails you? Have you hurt yourself?

  No such luck. My boss is here!

  Your…from the aquarium on land? The woman Jonas has taken to mate?

  Yes! She saw him and realized she’d floated out over her head; he was swimming toward her with powerful strokes, strokes that gobbled the distance between them and made it look easy. She flew out to surprise Jonas! So you’ve got to tell your dad, so he can warn everybody. Jonas will do his best to hole up with her in his hut, but she’s got to eat, and I imagine she’ll want to swim and sunbathe and, I don’t know, work on my annual review.