Lagoon

by Nnedi Okorafor

  “You can drive this thing?” the president asked Agu.

  “Yes, sir,” he said. “Usually it takes two people, but I can drive it. My job is to patrol the water. Amphibious Division 81, five years.” As he watched everyone climb aboard, Agu shuddered. After his experience in the water, he was not in a hurry to get back out on it. How much was Ayodele going to be able to protect them?

  “Put your life vests on,” he said. He undid the rope and got in. “Adaora,” he whispered.

  She looked at him and said nothing. But she took his hand.

  “Ayodele,” he said. “Where are we going?”

  “Take us far out,” she said.

  Agu started the motor.

  Adaora looked out into the water as they left the shore. The morning sun was warming up, its rays penetrating deeply into the water. So deeply that she could have sworn she saw the bottom, over thirteen meters below. But that was impossible. She should have been delighted, inspecting and studying the water and its inhabitants with her biologist’s eye. But she just couldn’t muster up any delight. No water was that clear when it was that deep. Adaora sat down and focused on the horizon. The water’s unnatural clarity was the least of her worries.

  * * * *

  The trouble started minutes after they fired up the engine. The boat kept lurching up as if it were driving over wide speed bumps. The fifth bump was a big one, and Hawra screeched and grabbed the president. But his attention was already elsewhere.

  “What is that?” he shouted, pointing.

  “God of Abraham,” Femi exclaimed, his camera up as he snapped photos. “No, no, video, video’s better,” he muttered, looking at his camera, his hands shaking.

  Bamidele and Chucks were looking into the water directly below the boat, their guns drawn. But the president was pointing into the distance. Adaora followed the line of his arm just in time to see something break the surface.

  It was black and looked about the size of a house. As it fell back into the water, all three of its huge tentacles slapped the surface, creating large waves that rocked the boat. Adaora shuddered. She could name most cephalopods down to their local and scientific names. But what she’d just seen didn’t have a name.

  The president’s guards scrambled to the center of the boat. “Oh my God, oh my God! Oh my God!” Bamidele babbled.

  “Don’t do that,” Chucks said as Femi held his camera over the boat’s edge.

  “It looked like a giant swordfish,” Chucks said. “The size of a bus!”

  “Ayodele,” Anthony said. “What is all—”

  The boat lurched again and everyone held on.

  The flash of Femi’s camera as he photographed Ayodele made her frown. He lowered his camera and smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. There usually isn’t a flash in sunshine like this.”

  “It’s the people of the waters,” Ayodele said. “They are tired of boats and human beings.”

  “Then why’d you bring us out here?” Hawra shouted.

  “Your leader must meet the Elders,” Ayodele said matter-of-factly. “The world is not yet safe.”

  “Meeting the Elders is fine, but tell the fish to leave us alone!” Adaora cried.

  “They do as they wish. They won’t listen to me. Some of my people have even mixed with them. Once we make it to the ship, we’ll be safe.”

  Femi’s camera beeped as he took another photo of Ayodele.

  CHAPTER 48

  HERE THERE BE MONSTERS

  Fifteen minutes later, a three-tentacled sea beast leaped over them, spiraling wildly through the air. It splayed all its thick purple fifty-foot tentacles wide for full effect, splashing loudly into the water.

  “Keep going,” Ayodele said. “This creature is too strong. I will catch up.” Then without a word, she leaped into the water and was gone. They all looked at each other for several moments. Then Agu pushed the boat to top speed.

  No one spoke, no one moved. Everyone watched the water. For several minutes, the surface was calm.

  “That thing is the . . . ship?” Hawra asked, pointing at the undulating black-and-brown mass hovering above the water miles away.

  “Yes,” Anthony said. “When they brought us into it last time, it was under the water.”

  “Wish it stayed there,” one of the soldiers muttered. “Dat ting, na wor wor. Look like sometin’ rotten.”

  BONG! The entire boat vibrated from the impact of whatever had just rammed it. Agu and Adaora fell against the stern; the president and the two soldiers tumbled onto a pile of coiled rope. Femi screamed as he tried to grab Hawra, who was dangerously close to the boat’s edge. Something slammed into the boat again, and Hawra toppled over the side, grabbing the railing at the last moment.

  “Help!” she screamed. “I can’t . . . I can’t!”

  “Coming,” one of the soldiers called, trying to get to his feet.

  Adaora looked into the water. “I see it! It’s a swordfish, it’s . . . oh God! Hold on!”

  The swordfish monster rammed the boat again, and Hawra dropped into the water. Her terrified shriek was abruptly cut off as her head went under.

  The president ran to the edge of the boat and looked over the water. He was sure it was full of disease. Look what it had done to the sea creatures! “Hawra!” he screamed, holding on to the railing. “Hawra!” He let go of the railing as though to jump in after her. Anthony grabbed him. “No!” the president shouted as he strained to free himself from the other man’s grasp. He slapped at Anthony. The water now roiled with hundreds of glistening, eel-like fish. “Leave me! Leave me to save my wife! LET ME SAVE MY WIFE!”

  Agu stumbled over and grabbed the president’s other shoulder. “No! Don’t jump in there!” Agu shouted. “You can’t—”

  “Let me die, too! Let me DIE!” he screamed hysterically. What if the water did something worse than death to her?

  Agu wanted to tell the president to stay calm, that his country needed him to remain on the boat, meet the Elders, but reason was a stupid thing to request. If Adaora had fallen off the boat, he’d do the same thing the president was doing, and nothing anyone said would change his mind. So Agu held the president of Nigeria with all his might. Anthony put his arms around the two of them and did the same.

  Thump, thump, thump.

  It was coming from the back of the boat, where Adaora crouched. She listened. Thump, thump, thump. “Help!” The word was nothing but a whisper. But it was human. Thump, thump, thump.

  “Agu,” Adaora said. “Do you hear that?”

  “Hear what?” he said from the other side of the boat.

  “Please,” the voice wheezed.

  Adaora took several breaths, working hard to ignore Femi, who was right beside her. They were under attack; a woman had fallen into the water, and yet this man was recording everything.

  “Please, stop it,” she said to him calmly.

  “No,” he whispered.

  Fine. She had more important things to do. She stood up and looked into the blue waters. There was Hawra, clinging to the side of the boat. She was soaked but okay. “How . . .” Then Adaora saw something below Hawra swimming up quickly. Something huge, black, with too many fins. Adaora threw herself forward. “Agu, come help me, o. Hurry!”

  She could see the thing more clearly now. A mouth. Opening. Full of teeth. Adaora dug deep within herself. Within all that she was. Her love of logic and science. Her love of the water. Her love of the sea. She came to the story of her birth she’d heard so many times from her parents.

  That.

  She hung on to that.

  It was in the knowing. She knew. She stepped over the side of the boat, out onto the water.

  “No!” Hawra said. “What are you . . . ?”

  Adaora’s feet landed on the water and the water held her up.

  “Shit!” Femi shou
ted, camera pointed and recording.

  Hawra clung to the side of the boat, eyes wide, her mouth hanging open. “Agu!” Adaora yelled back. “I need you!”

  Then she knelt down and spread her hands, palms flat on the water’s surface. It felt solid and warm. She pushed, and felt something emanate from herself. Something solid. The enormous creature with the mouth full of teeth below slammed against Adaora’s invisible force. Adaora felt it push against what she’d sent. It was the same thing she’d done when she was fighting with Chris, except this time she did it to save another person. She took one hand from the water and reached out to Hawra. The other woman grabbed at her.

  “Are you . . . ?” Agu was staring at Adaora, mouth agape, as she knelt on the water, holding Hawra up and pushing the thrashing monster down.

  She looked into his eyes, needing him to understand, to trust her. “Remember how you got through the riot?” She motioned with her head to the waters behind her. “Do that again but keep all the monsters away while I help Hawra into the boat.”

  Agu just stared at her.

  “Go!” she shouted. “Don’t think! No time! Agu, go!”

  To her relief, he blinked, twitched, and then threw himself in the water. Something big was coming at them from her left and Agu swam right for it. He dropped beneath the water’s surface. Adaora saw the huge gray sharklike creature collide with Agu. A moment later, the creature was flying out of the water, hurled a hundred feet in the air. Adaora could see its great toothy jaws gape. Then splash!

  Agu’s head popped out of the water. He looked around until he spotted them. He waved and Adaora waved back. Then he dove back down.

  “Come, come, come,” Adaora said quickly, hoisting Hawra up until she, too, was standing on water.

  “This is blasphemy,” Hawra whispered. But she giggled.

  “I don’t know what it is,” Adaora said.

  “Take my hand!” the president said. Chucks stood beside him, ready to help.

  Another large creature, this one like a ropy, pink-purple squid, wildly flung itself out of the water. And from the front of the boat, Bamidele was shooting at something. “That one, chale! Shoot that one!” she heard Anthony yelling.

  Just as Hawra got one leg onto the boat, a tentacle flew out of the water, past Adaora, and slapped around Hawra’s other leg.

  “Argh! Get it off !” she screamed. “It hurts! It—”

  The president grabbed at the tentacle and then fell backward, smoke rising from his hands. He must have received a horrible electric shock from the monster. Adaora felt the current trying to lock up her muscles, but her force field must have dampened the impact. She stumbled back, still on the water’s surface, as the tentacle dragged Hawra under.

  * * * *

  Agu saw Hawra dragged toward the deep. The tentacle belonged to a great octopus. It glowed a smooth purple and was the size of two horses. He could feel the electrical current the creature put out. It tickled him, even underwater.

  And it seemed the entire ocean had decided to come after them. Large fish, armored fish, spiked fish, monstrous sharks, a giant swordfish; he even thought he saw something that looked like a whale. All were bearing down on the boat, on him.

  Why? What had they done? He knew the answer. He, Adaora, Anthony—everyone else—they were human. They didn’t belong here in the deep. So they would die here and it would be right. Best to leave these waters to the ocean animals, and the aliens.

  A large shark was coming at him from his right, and the huge swordfish and a school of smaller fish were coming at him from his left. He couldn’t fight them all off. He was losing air. He needed to swim to the surface. But he didn’t want them to see him torn to bits. Better to stay down here. He would keep them safe for as long as he could.

  Suddenly, Anthony torpedoed into the water. He looked right at Agu. As he swam he motioned frantically to the boat. For a moment, Agu didn’t understand, then he did. He propelled himself up, to the boat. Just before bringing his head above water, he looked back. In the morning sunshine, just below the surface of the water, Anthony was in clear view. He floated there. Then he thrust his arms and legs out.

  Agu felt a hand grab him, and he was hoisted up by the president and his soldiers. They all fell onto the deck and jammed their fists to their ears as a huge wave shoved them farther out to sea.

  MOOOOOOOOOM!

  The boat rocked and swayed this way and that but thankfully, somehow, it did not capsize. Everyone felt the itchy buzz in their heads as their eardrums popped. Adaora felt as if she were covered with ants. Then there was nothing but the sound of lapping water against the side of the boat. After several moments, they got to their feet. The surface of the water was littered with the bodies of hundreds of tiny dead fish. Larger fish roiled in the water farther away, all swimming away from Anthony. Away from the boat.

  “Did he explode?” one of the guards asked, his gun still in his hand.

  No one answered.

  A head surfaced from the water at Adaora’s water-walking feet, and then Hawra was flailing and coughing. Adaora dropped to her knees, pressing them down. Soft and warm, the water held her as she snatched Hawra’s shoulder then arm.

  “Relax,” Adaora shouted. “Stop!”

  “Oh praise Allah! Praise the Most High!” Hawra gasped as Adaora pulled her up to also stand on the water.

  “Wife!” the president shouted, leaning over the side and yanking Hawra onto the boat. “Oh, my wife, my wife, my wife.” They sat on the floor, cradling each other.

  The air smelled sweet, with a hint of blood. Something slapped at the side of the boat, feet away.

  “Someone, pull . . . me up.”

  ”Anthony!” Adaora said. Without a thought, she ran over to him, her feet supported by the water like those of a water-skipping insect. She and Agu helped him crawl back onto the boat. Agu gave him the only towel on board, and Anthony wrapped it around himself. Once on the boat, Adaora ran over and hugged him tightly and kissed him on the cheek.

  “You are amazing,” she said.

  Anthony laughed weakly.

  “What are you three?” the president asked. He was holding Hawra tightly, and she was resting her wet head on his shoulder. The wig she had worn was gone, revealing her short Afro.

  “We’re Nigerians,” Agu said. “Just Nigerians.” He looked at Anthony and added, “And one Ghanaian.”

  There was the sound of metal balls rolling in a glass bowl and there Ayodele stood beside Adaora. “That is what I was telling them,” Ayodele said, motioning toward the water.

  “Why did you leave us like that?” Adaora snapped. “Why—”

  “If I hadn’t handled the larger creatures, none of you would be here,” Ayodele said. “That’s where I went. You think what you dealt with were the biggest?” She shrugged. “You saved each other but I saved you all. The going should be smoother from now on.”

  Agu stumbled to the motor and breathed a sigh of relief when it started. He got them moving again. His skin felt prickly and tight. He’d gulped down several mouthfuls of salt water and felt that if he didn’t belch soon he’d throw up. Anthony was probably full of the water too. And Hawra and Adaora.

  Beep beep! Femi lowered his camera, his eyes wide, his mouth agape. “Wow.” He reached into his pocket and brought out his BlackBerry. Within ten minutes the footage was on YouTube.

  CHAPTER 49

  RESPECT YOUR ELDERS

  Once they were back on the boat, everyone who’d been in the water threw up copious amounts of it. When there was none left in their stomachs, they dry heaved. Anthony was in the worst shape, breaking out in hives and plagued by a throbbing headache. Femi ran back and forth between Anthony and the side of the boat, dipping a cup in the water and then pouring it on Anthony’s arms and legs to help soothe the itchiness.

  “Sorry,” Ayodele said. Adao
ra didn’t think she meant it at all, but she was too weak to tell her so.

  “Is it the water?” Femi asked. “I mean, I’m fine, and so are the president, Bamidele, and Chucks. None of us were in there.”

  “Yes, I think it is.”

  Adaora felt her stomach lurch again. “What have you people done to it?”

  “Nothing that didn’t want to be done.”

  Done by whom? Adaora thought. She knew the answer. The sea creatures. They wanted the water to be “clean.” “Clean” for sea life . . . which meant toxic for modern, civilized, meat-eating, clean-water-drinking human beings. Shit, she thought. I’m going to die out here.

  Adaora didn’t know how much time passed. All she knew was that when she next opened her eyes, the sun was somewhere else in the sky and the boat had stopped. She sat up. She felt a little better but she’d broken out in the same rash that Anthony had and her head pounded miserably. Anthony was lying on the boat’s floor, Agu and Femi beside him.

  “Is he all right?” she whispered.

  “He’s still breathing, but he won’t open his eyes,” Femi said. He got up and walked past Adaora.

  “Agu?”

  “Yes, Adaora,” he said.

  “Are you—”

  Splash!

  Adaora was looking at Agu’s face. He was looking behind her, at the others at the far end of the boat. At the sound of the splash, his jaw dropped. She felt her heart sink. The president, Hawra, Ayodele, the guards. She didn’t want to turn around and see what had happened to them. She’d had enough.

  “Wait,” Agu said, getting up. He stumbled, grabbing hold of one of the seats. He started moving to the other side of the boat. “Wait!”

  Adaora turned around. At first she didn’t know what she was seeing. Water? But it was solid. Solid enough for the president to step on, as Adaora had stepped on it. She dragged herself up.

  “Wait a minute!” she said. She nearly fell to the floor as the world swam around her. Her belly cramped and she dropped to one knee. Agu was on the floor a few feet away. “Do . . . What . . . Where are you going?” Adaora whispered.