Or maybe it wasn’t so absurd. The gentle pressure on his arms increased until Jake struggled to keep his balance. She was a small octopus, but he was forced to squat lower, letting his arms stay in the tank, but allowing him to lean against the tank wall and resist the pull.
She pulled harder.
“Hey, there,” he said in what he hoped was a friendly voice.
Priscilla’s body was out of the water now, and her eyes stared straight into his. The water around his arms shook with a sudden vibration, as if the octopus was answering his “Friend” question. And then, she jerked him forward.
Jake braced himself harder, his heart beating faster in sudden fear. How strong was this octopus? He didn’t notice individual suckers. Rather, his whole arm throbbed as the suckers continually adjusted and retightened.
Alarmed, Enid cried, “Is she pulling you in?”
Through gritted teeth, Jake said, “She’s trying.”
Enid and Fairfax were beside him immediately, gently inserting their own arms beneath his and taking some pressure off.
Suddenly, Priscilla withdrew all her arms and fell back under the surface, squirting away to a rock, where Jake watched in fascination as she rapidly camouflaged herself. If he hadn’t known where she had gone, Jake would swear that was a rock, not an octopus. He’d never seen such complete camouflage. What a strange, incredible creature!
Amazed, he stood, turned to Enid. and said, “Wow.”
From the corner of his eye, he caught movement; Priscilla was back in front of him and suddenly, she squirted him in the face with a cold stream of water.
Dumfounded, Jake froze in place.
But Priscilla was in movement. She squirted David’s face, and then Jillian’s, both of them gasping at the shock of bitterly cold water. Quickly, Priscilla returned to her rock, and camouflaged herself until it seemed she had disappeared, and the tank was empty.
Enid and Fairfax stared at them with stunned expressions.
David broke the tension—he was always the peacemaker—by laughing, a terrific howl that made the others gape. He pointed at Jake and managed to gasp out, “Priscilla doesn’t like you!”
Jake wiped water from his face and grinned back. “Or you.”
“Aw,” Jillian said. “I wanted to formally meet her.”
Nervously, Enid and Fairfax smiled, too. “Maybe that’s not a good idea, since she’s upset.”
Jake grabbed a towel from the table, and soberly started drying his face. He didn’t like this at all. Why had Priscilla squirted him? Did she really understand that he was alien? And had she really sent vibrations that said, “Dangerous”?
Jillian, of course, insisted on a selfie photo of the three of them sitting on the water tank’s steps so they could see the water in the background. “Put on your smile, Jake,” she warned.
Obediently, he contorted his face into a lopsided grin.
Jillian groaned, but snapped a shot anyway. She checked the photo and shook her head. “Funny.”
And she wanted photos of the octopus.
“It just looks like a rock,” David teased.
“But it’s not a rock and that’s the point,” Jillian said. “She's hiding in plain sight, and I think that’s cool.”
They changed back to their street clothes and said thanks to Enid and Fairfax. It nagged at Jake that Priscilla didn’t like him. What if the Earth’s oceans were full of marine life that wouldn’t like the Risonians?
Later, after the aquarium tour was finished and they were seated in the limo again, Jake told Jillian, “Don’t publish the octopus photos. If people find out that Priscilla didn’t like me and squirted me, they’ll say that Earth’s oceans reject the aliens from Rison.”
Jillian disagreed. “You have to trust people. They’ll just laugh about it if you put it out there now. You’ll only be in trouble if you try to hide it.”
Colonel Lett settled the question, “You can send the photos of the three of you. And even the one of the camouflaged octopus. But don’t tell about the octopus squirting him.”
Reluctantly, Jillian deleted the photo’s caption and rewrote it to just state facts. “Today, we met a curled octopus named Priscilla.”
3
I am Emmeline Tullis
December 17
Em’s eyes fluttered open to a blindingly white room. Bright overhead lights, white walls. She fingered the white sheets and fought to keep her fists from clutching at them in panic.
She was alone. Had been alone for days now.
Sick. Yes, sick. Vaguely, she remembered faces, but always the faces of strangers. Snatches of conversation, but in accents that confused her. Aliens. Had to be.
Alone.
Even in her dreams, her isolation turned on her. Restless dreams asked the same question: Who are you?
She answered:
I am Emmeline Tullis, adopted daughter of Randall and Beth Tullis.
I am Emmeline Tullis, sister to Marisa Tullis, dental assistant.
I am a swimmer, and a member of the Bainbridge Island swim team.
I am a freshman at Bainbridge Island High School.
I am the girlfriend of Jake Rose. Tears sprang to her eyes at that one and she amended it. I was the girlfriend of Jake Rose.
But any answer was hollow. Partly because she was alone, yes. But it was deeper. Perhaps every teenager comes to a place where they must reinvent themselves and decide who they are and what they believe in. But this felt more urgent. Something—the illness, the isolation, the aliens, the gut feeling that the very foundation of her world was shaken—something was desperately wrong.
Looking around her room—was this a hospital room?—she saw no windows, only white walls. White marble floors. One beige chair. No TV. No table for personal things. She had an IV in her right wrist. An extra blanket lay crookedly across the back of the beige chair.
Carefully, she pushed up to sitting, pausing to let a wave of dizziness pass. She was weak, too weak to get out of bed. Still sick, or just recuperating, she decided. She plumped up her pillow and carefully centered it exactly one inch below the head of the bed before lying back down. What kind of illness did she have? Why did the aliens get involved? Why was she all alone?
Quarantine. Her heart pounded in her ear.
She had been quarantined.
Panic threatened to swallow her, but she shoved it down and tried to think. Quarantined for what? Why aliens?
She shook her head—slowly to avoid another wave of dizziness. It didn’t matter why. What mattered was to get out of here. Get this IV out. Get out of here. She was too weak, but she’d get stronger. And then, she’d get out of this white room. Because she had to find the answer to the question: Who are you?
The automatic answers came: I am Emmeline Tullis.
But the pat answer wasn’t enough. Somehow, something had changed. Her subconscious knew something her conscious brain was too weak to understand.
Who was she?
4
The Jewel of the Sea
December 18
“Where now?” Colonel Lett asked.
Jillian tucked her blond hair into a knit cap and said hopefully, “Shopping?”
“Yes,” Jake nodded. He wanted to hunt for Em, but they needed some idea of where to look for Phoke. Maybe just poking around the city for a while would help. He felt helpless because all he had was one word to go on—Phoke.
“Really?” Jillian said. “I didn’t think you’d want to go shopping.”
“For Mom’s birthday,” Jake said.
Of course, as a Risonian, Mom’s actual date of birth wouldn’t match up to Earth’s calendar because of the differences in their planetary orbits. One Earth year is the amount of time it takes Earth to circle its star, Sol, which was 365 1/4 days; one Risonian year was the amount of time it takes Rison to circle its star, Turco, which was 414 days. When the diplomatic corps came from Rison, Earth insisted on birthdates on their documentation. Mom’s self-proclaimed Earth-cal
endar birthday was later this month, December 28. Jake wanted to find the perfect gift.
“We should look at jewelry,” Jillian said with enthusiasm. “When I travel, I always like to buy jewelry as souvenirs.”
Jake thought about his Dad’s umjaadi globes. His rooms, on the Moon or in the secret underwater Seastead installation, always included shelves for the water-filled globes from Rison. Similar to a snow-globe on Earth, Risonian vacation spots sold umjaadi globes as souvenirs. Mom had given Dad his first one, and after that, he’d collected many more. They were named for the umjaadi starfish that usually inhabited the globes. Jake wondered if there was something like that here, but doubted it. Jillian was probably right: jewelry was a good idea.
Colonel Lett drove carefully through the Edinburgh traffic—driving on the wrong side of the road, said Jillian, who was working on getting her driver’s license back in Washington State—until he found a parking lot.
They all climbed out and pulled on jackets against the December wind. Jake shook his head at Jillian, who wrapped a scarf around her neck and pulled the sock cap lower. As Risonians, they all had magma-sapiens metabolisms, which meant they seldom felt the cold weather. But the paparazzi were watching, and they didn’t want to emphasize the differences in their species.
Jillian just shrugged and said defensively, “I think they look good on me.”
Jake nodded and murmured, “Of course they do.” He grabbed his string backpack that held his credit cards and id.
He stared upward at the massive Edinburgh castle. Grey stone, centuries old, sat majestically on the hillside and dominated the city. They would officially visit it later with Mom and see the Scottish crown jewels. For now, though, they headed down into the town in search of a jewelry store. Colonel Lett followed at a distance, letting the teens take the lead. It was comforting to know he was close by, Jake thought. Just in case.
Jillian stopped a couple times for selfies with the Edinburgh castle and Castle Rock in the background, and to take a couple group photos with David and Jake. The photos would be all over the Internet by nightfall, the way Jillian spread things around. The photos showed Jake, the Face of Rison, being just a normal teenager shopping for his mom’s birthday present.
Jillian, who had accounts on all the social media platforms, was along partly to help spread the image that Jake was just a regular kid. She was a good counter-balance to the paparazzi, letting them control what photos were published. Jake didn’t like it, but he understood it. It was all hollow stuff, but he allowed it dutifully.
Finally, Jillian pointed to a sign: Aberforth Jewelers.
As the group pushed in, a woman brushed past Jake. Something made him turn to watch her. She wore a heavy trench coat, and from the back of a red baseball cap swung a long length of blond hair.
“Ms. Fleming,” called Jake. He was sure it was the biologist from Seattle who had helped him with a science class project about seals.
But the woman didn’t turn around at his call.
Promptly, Colonel Lett was beside Jake. “Is there a problem?”
Jake shook his head. He must be crazy. Ms. Fleming was thousands of miles away in Seattle. No way would she’d be here in Edinburgh. “Nothing’s wrong,” he told Lett. “We’ll just shop and be out in a while.”
Stepping inside, someone called, “Hello! Welcome to Aberforth Jewelers.”
A tall teenager, just a few years older than Jake, stood behind gleaming lighted cabinets that held a bewildering array of jewelry. If Jillian and David hadn’t been with him, Jake would’ve backed out of the tiny, cramped store. The female’s fondness for shopping was so puzzling to Jake. Maybe that was because on Rison he’d been the Prime Minister’s step-son. No one expected Jake’s family to go to the market or any store to shop. He just had to ask, and by afternoon, the things he wanted appeared in his room.
Perhaps another person would consider the shop to be cozy and comfortable. It was small, but warmly lit in spite of the dreary day. A small Christmas tree sparkled with crystal ornaments, and the lighted cabinets made the whole room glow. Maybe, Jake thought reluctantly, it would be okay to look around.
“Can I help you?” asked the teen.
“Did you know that lady that just left?” Jake asked. If it was Ms. Fleming—which of course, it wasn’t—maybe she knew something about Em. It was just too much of a coincidence to find a familiar face in the city where Em might be held captive.
“Just a customer.”
Jake grimaced. Even under the trench coat, the lady had seemed lean and had reminded him of the way Ms. Fleming walked. “Was she local or a tourist?”
The teenager shrugged. “Don’t know. American, maybe. Anything else I can do for you?” He waved a hand toward the jewelry cases.
Jillian took charge. “Jake is looking for a birthday gift for his mom. He’s not sure what he wants. Can you suggest something?”
The teen went into full sales mode, pulling out watches, bracelets and necklaces. Jillian and David hovered over the jewelry, but Jake wandered away. Somehow gold and silver didn’t interest him. Even on Rison they had those metals, but they were only useful in technology, not as decorations for the body. Perhaps because volcanoes dominated their lives, Mom preferred glass created in a blazing hot furnace. Hence, the collectible umjaadi globes, made of the finest glass. Glass was cheap here on Earth, and often it looked cheap, too. Tizzalurian glass blowers were world-renowned — Jake stopped his thoughts short. Maybe world-renowned on Rison, but not interstellar-renowned. Their reputation would die with the planet when Rison imploded. He wondered if any of the glass blowers had been evacuated to the Cadee Moon Base on Rison’s moon, or if any were slated to come to Earth. That is, if Earth ever decided to let Risonians live on their planet.
Jake stopped at a case full of a golden rock or stone. When there was a break in the other’s conversation, Jake asked, “What’s this stone?”
“Ah, amber,” said the teen. Apparently, it was a subject that fascinated him because he got chatty. He drifted over to stand behind the cabinet that held only the amber jewelry. “By the way, my name’s Matt Meacher. Let me tell you all about amber. They call it the jewel of the sea.”
Amber was the fossilized resin from ancient forests that now lay under the North Sea. It wasn’t produced from tree sap, Matt explained, but rather from plant resin. The aromatic resin dripped from and oozed down trees, often filling internal cracks, trapping debris such as seeds, leaves, feathers and insects. Especially insects. Amber was made popular by an American author’s stories about dinosaurs made from blood found in mosquitoes that were trapped in amber. Michael Crichton’s “Jurassic Park” stories had been a boon for amber jewelry sales, according to Matt. Jake had read those stories, as fascinated by the dinosaurs as any Earthling.
“Do you think your mom would like a pin or a necklace or a bracelet?” Jillian asked.
“Necklace,” Jake said.
Jillian pointed to something and Matt pulled it out, arranging it on a piece of dark blue velvet. When he pulled his hand back, Jake gasped. A delicately carved, golden amber mermaid seemed to be swimming across a deep blue sea. Her tail swirled in a flamboyant curve, and her exotic hair fell to her waist.
“May I?” Jake nodded to the mermaid.
At Matt’s nod in agreement, Jake picked up the carved amber and turned it over and over. It was only an inch and a half long. Polished smooth, it gleamed in his hands. He remembered the last birthday party he’d attended for Mom. The Quad-des knew how to throw a party, and they had invited about 1000 people. He’d spent a long time creating a special set of music files for Mom, ordered in a specific way, and writing a commentary on the whole thing. She made the band play his list for the rest of the night. And for the next year, Mom listened to the music over and over. It had been a great feeling to get it right. Since he’d left Rison for the Obama Moon Base, he hadn’t been at one of her birthday parties. This year, there probably wouldn’t even be a party with all the
negotiations going on. But he wanted to get the present right again. And this necklace was perfect.
Jillian had her hands on her hips and wore a grin of self-satisfaction. “Beautiful.” She whipped out her phone and said, “Hold it up. And try not to grimace so much.”
Reluctantly, Jake let her snap a photo. Another frowning image of the Face of Rison to spread far and wide. Mom never looked at Jillian’s accounts, so there was little chance that she’d see the amber necklace before he gave it to her next week.
“Would you like that gift wrapped?”
Jillian nodded. “He’s all thumbs when he tries to wrap.”
Jake said firmly, “I’ll take two of them gift wrapped.” At Jillian’s puzzled look, he said, “One for Mom and one for Em.”
“Ah. So, your mom and girlfriend will match.”
“Are you being sarcastic?” Jake said, totally puzzled.
Jillian raised her eyebrows. “Yes.”
Crestfallen, Jake said, “Won’t they both like it?” He hadn’t had a chance to give Em a birthday gift yet, but he wanted to be ready. In fact, he didn’t even know when her birthday was. As soon as he found her, he’d have to ask.
“Sure,” Jillian said, and shook her head while posting the photos to her accounts.
Jake sighed to himself again. He’d never figure out girls.
Matt took the mermaid necklaces through a curtained doorway to be wrapped. When he came back out, he went to the cash register to take Jake’s credit card. This was one of the nice changes about being known as the Risonian Ambassador’s son. When he was hiding on Bainbridge Island, Jake could have no digital footprint: no cell phones, no credit cards, nothing. But now, he had credit cards that were accepted worldwide.
David wandered the aisles of jewelry until he stopped in front of a stack of colorful postcards and picked one up. Glancing at it, his eyes went wide. “Jake, you gotta see this.”
Sirens (The Blue Planets World series Book 2) Page 2