by Erin Grey
More shouts rang out, and the ship propelled forward. At least, I assumed it was forward: the view from the tiny portholes gave no indication of direction.
I forced my torso to relax and free up my lungs for a deep breath. Turning back to Aidon, I asked, “So, these guys just float around and sing at people. Why?”
“They belong to the lost house of Apollus—gode of energies pertaining to inspiration, creative genius, poetry, art, and music. None of those are a recognized form of work. From the governments’ viewpoint, they’re indigent. If they head into cities on land, they’ll get picked up by the Regulators.”
“For being musical?” I asked incredulously. “That’s a crime?”
“It’s not considered useful or productive,” he answered, leaning a forearm against a dark metal wall. “So it’s forbidden.”
“Then why do they do it?”
“They can’t help it. It’s their energy. If they deny it, they get sick.”
“Oh, that’s so sad!” said Gwendolyn. “Everyone needs music.”
“For once I agree with you, babe,” said Sandy. “No music and no fiction is a bum way to live.”
I swallowed. “Zhian said you don’t have stories or fiction for entertainment either.”
“Oh, we have them,” Aidon said with a sardonic curl of his lip. “You just can’t advertise the fact without bringing the Regulators down on you.”
“What are they so worried about?” I asked. “People might have fun?”
He sniggered. “It’s a bit more complicated than that. Stories, art, imagination—they inspire people to think, question the status quo. According to the philosophy of the Regulators, this leads to disorder, uprisings, revolution. They believe Athena—the godesse of science, technology, and research—is the one true gode. All else is vanity, an enemy of the true order, and an abomination.”
“Wow,” said Sandy. “Nazi much?”
I shivered. “And the whole world is like this?”
“The parts under the jurisdiction of the Regulators—most of the civilized world—yes.”
“But, you said you have stories and there used to be a house of creativity, so it can’t always have been like this.”
He shook his head, and his eyes turned sad. “There was a great war a thousand years ago. The followers of Athena staged a global attack that wiped out most public records. They intended to only destroy art and fiction, but in the end all records except those related to science were lost—history, mythology, music. All gone.”
“Oh,” said Gwendolyn in a tremulous voice.
Aidon pushed away from the wall and folded his arms. “Since then, the Athenians have gradually accumulated more and more power. Houses that did not support their viewpoint were closed and the members disbanded. But they couldn’t bear the thought of anyone who didn’t fit into their concept of ‘divine order’, even isolated individuals. One group after another was formed to hunt out the abominations and eliminate them. Although we entered an ‘enlightened’ age after the last war, the Athenians simply presented a more socially acceptable strategy: assign Regulators to seek out the poor ‘Abnormals’ and ‘help’ them. But we all know their true objective is unchanged.”
The sub lurched—along with my stomach—and rose to the surface.
I huddled against the wall. “What’s happening?”
He frowned. “Not sure.”
We walked up to the main deck, where the captain peered through a periscope. Once the ship surfaced, the hatch opened. A woman dropped through it, landed in front of us with a splat, and adjusted her goggles. Straps crisscrossed her chest, hung with all manner of tools and devices unrecognizable to me.
She had a tail.
“Captain here?” She panted, full rose-gold bosoms heaving.
“Yes, Madam Céibhfhionn,” answered a member of the crew. “He’ll be here any minutus.”
“A mermaid?” gasped Gwendolyn.
“Fsssh,” stated Emmy with certainty.
Aidon snorted and pushed my gaping jaw closed.
“M-mermaid?” I managed.
“You mean a mythical creature who lures sailors to their death? No. Though I wouldn’t want to meet her in a dark alley.” He smiled at his joke and pushed his glasses up. “She can manipulate her legs into flippers and her skin into scales to protect her from the cold. And from getting wrinkly.”
“She can breathe underwater? Does she have gills?”
Aidon chuckled. “Like many sea mammals, she can hold her breath for long periods—up to twenty minuti, I believe. No gills necessary.”
“But why does she need goggles? I’d think she could see well enough under the water, being a sea creature.”
“She’s not a sea creature. She’s as human as you or I. But when she manipulates to her water form, her eyes adapt to the moisture and dark. It takes a lot of energy to switch between forms, so she needs time and rest to do it. No point changing while she’s working. Under the water she doesn’t use the goggles. It’s out here she needs them, to protect her from the light and dry air. At least if she’s going to be out for a while.”
“When she’s working?” I blinked. “What does she do?”
“She’s their navigator. And something of a tech expert. Give her an elastic band and she can rig a cannon to take out an enemy sub in one shot.”
The captain appeared. “Anything of note, Madam Céibhfhionn, damme for a pound o’ squash?”
“Pod of Nessies, Cap. Suggest adjust course by two degrees to avoid. That’ll put you right into the Wonton current which’ll pull us along nicely towards the coast.”
“So, she lives underwater?” I whispered to Aidon.
“Not quite. People with her kind of abilities don’t like to be far from the water, so they usually build floating villages: boats and platforms that are linked together.”
“And they all look like her?”
He quirked his eyebrows at me. “Don’t tell me you’re a bigot?”
I huffed. “You know what I meant. Can they all summon tails and live underwater?”
“Some can. Some are able to hold their breath for long periods and dive far beyond the average human’s resistance to pressure. Some can shape parts of themselves like rays, orcas, or eels. It all depends on the individual’s energy and preferences.”
“Extraordinary,” breathed Jasper.
Rumbles and shouts indicated the ship was submerging again.
“It’ll be a while before we reach the port,” said Aidon. “Why not find a seat like Brianus and have a rest? I need to have a chat with Cap over there.”
I found a dark corner next to a porthole, but the voices were far too riled up to let me sleep. I watched the aquatic circus beyond the glass.
“Mermaids,” said Gwendolyn. “Fancy that.”
“I’m more interested in the Mer-men, thank you,” said Sandy.
“Fssssh,” insisted Emmy, tired of having her new word ignored.
“That’s right, Emmy,” said Gwendolyn. “We’re at sea, and those are fish.”
“Need to sleep,” grumbled Mitch. “Quiet.”
My lids had just started drooping when a voice jolted me awake. “So, how you doing?”
A pirate stood before me. His pungent scent of months-old body odour, wet dog, and rum breath stood a lot closer.
My eyes stung. “Fine,” I answered.
“Come here often?” He twirled a dreadlock of beard. Something tiny and many-legged scurried out of it and dived into the next matted tuft. His diminutive stature allowed me an unhindered view of his blessedly bald, not-so-blessedly flaking scalp.
“Do not engage,” warned Jasper.
I blinked. “No.”
“So, uh, you looking for a good time?”
“Who is this idiot?” said Sandy. “Does he think you’re up for a date?”
“What?” I said.
“You know, a good time?” He kept winking at me. I tried not to stare at his earlobe; it drooped almost to his s
houlder under the weight of a tarnished earring. “Fun and games,” he continued. “A little extra-curricular activity.”
“I believe he is using an idiom to offer you an item or activity that is taboo,” said Jasper.
“Boo!” said Emmy and laughed.
“I’m afraid I don’t understand you,” I told the pirate. “And I’m not looking to buy anything.”
“Oh.” He looked disappointed. Then his face lit up. “How about a ride? A little trip to the fun-zone?”
“Ok, buddy, I realise you’re trying to make some cash out of me,” I said, going for as stern a tone as I could muster, the one that never worked on telemarketers. “But I don’t understand your hints or your slang, and I don’t have any money.”
“Not from around here, then?” he chortled.
“No.”
Suddenly, his eyes latched onto mine—even though I’d been keeping my head in the shadows—and widened. He caught my chin and tilted it up.
“Hermus’ sandals!” he swore. “You really aren’t from around here, are you?”
“No.” I said haughtily, yanking my chin from his grimy fingers. “And I hope not to be around here for very much longer either.”
“Now, how did you get here? I’d heard there were portals, rumours of a slave trade—”
“Just go away, alright?” I blustered. “It’s none of your business. I’ll call Aidon—”
“I might be able to help you with that,” he said, scratching his bearded jaw. “For a price, of course.”
I halted. “What do you mean ‘help me with that’?”
“Well, it occurs to me that you might be a little out of your galaxy, if you catch my meaning. I know some folks who have a way with transport. Could make a plan with them.”
“Really?” I couldn’t stop the word from escaping.
“Aidon will be so thrilled to hear you’ve found a way home!” said Gwendolyn, clapping gaily.
“I do not think we should trust this character,” said Jasper. “He does not appear … savoury.”
“I don’t care if he has a whole hive of those bugs in his beard,” said Sandy. “If he can get us home, I’ll risk the infestation. Problem is, he’s not looking to do us any favours.”
My shoulders dropped. “You’ll want payment. I don’t have anything to offer you.”
His eyes dulled briefly then flickered back to life. “How about your friend over there? What’s he got?”
“I don’t know,” I answered doubtfully. “I’d have to ask.”
His eyes widened. “Not a problem. I’m sure we can find something to exchange. You just hang tight here while I go make some arrangements.”
“Don’t feel good,” whined Mitch. “Feel sick.”
“I believe Mitchell feels guilt,” said Jasper. “It was not appropriate to make arrangements outside of Aidon’s sanction when he expressly stipulated that there should be no communication with anyone on the ship.”
“We should tell him,” said Gwendolyn nervously.
I’m certain I walked the whole sub, dodging the metal pipes that protruded from all sides of the craft, doing my best to stay in the shadows and out of the way of busy pirates. But I found trouble before I found Aidon.
On the main deck, a bespectacled pirate whipped his head away from the periscope and called out. “Trouble ahead, Cap! Big trouble, belike.”
“The Regulators?” called back the captain.
“The Regulators.”
“The REGULATORS!” The captain cupped both hands around his mouth and shouted. Not that it was necessary; he had excellent projection.
“They’ve got a hippokampoi9 strapped to the hull, sir.”
“Pretendin’ to want a truce, are they?” snarled the captain. “Do they think they can hang seaweed on me ears?”
Aidon came running. “This is insane! They never come to the floating sea.”
The captain frowned, his moustache tilting at a spectacular angle. “With a truce hippokampoi? When all they usually do on encounterin’ us is blast away? Methinks they’re frightful desperate to get their digits on yon woman.”
“But how did they find us so quickly?” said Aidon.
“I don’t cut communications, good man. She must have a right shiny bounty on her head. If anyone caught on to her unusual origins, they might have decided the cash was worth the risk of dealing with those murderin’ sons ‘o biscuit-eaters. Of course, if I catch the scoundrel, he’ll be graspin’ sand dollars instead.” Then, as an afterthought: “Wi’ a curse.”
Aidon pulled off his black cap and ran a hand through his burnished curls, jostling his glasses. “How are they travelling?”
“Battle brig, the lizardin’ scum,” answered the captain.
I’d crept up behind Aidon, and he turned on me with a face creased into angry lines. “Jane! What did you do?”
“Nothing, I—”
“Don’t lie to me!” He gripped my shoulders, powerful fingertips digging painfully into my flesh, his face wrathful. “Did you talk to anyone—anyone?”
I shrunk back from his fury. “Well,” I stuttered, “there was this one guy who wouldn’t stop pestering me and kind of saw my eyes and caught on and said he could arrange transport—”
Aidon swore, something that translated in my mind as piles and piles of awful-smelling excrement. “I warned you to keep quiet and let me handle this!” he growled, shaking me. “Now we’re in deep Yewnikrun droppings.” He let go of me and scrubbed his face with his hands.
“Oh no,” whimpered Gwendolyn. “He’s so angry!”
“Shouldn’t have talked,” moaned Mitch.
You’re bad, hissed the Deep Dark. Very bad.
“I’m sorry,” I said in a small voice. “I thought it would fix everything and you wouldn’t have to worry—”
“You let me decide when to worry,” he snapped. “Now quiet; I need to think.”
“We can take ‘em, you know,” said the Captain. “We’ve done it before.”
“I don’t doubt it,” said Aidon. “But if it’s Jane they’re after, and they’re willing to sacrifice a boatful of wanted to get to her, then they’ll only send reinforcements here. We need to get her away without them seeing the direction.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. After a minute, he clicked his fingers and turned to the plump mermaid lounging on a bench. “Madam Céibhfhionn, is there any way to get past the Regulators’ sensors?”
She pulled off her goggles to rub away the accumulating fog. “I can generate a small shield that should last long enough to get us out of range,” she said thoughtfully. “You’ll need to stay under the water for at least a minutus, though.” She eyed me apprehensively. “I doubt she’ll be able to swim fast enough.”
Panic spread through me.
Aidon’s swift survey of my form indicated he agreed. “How far away is the nearest floating village?”
“About 8 decium,” answered Madame Céibhfhionn. “Why?”
“Think you can get some friends to sneak in and help us?”
“I could.” A corner of her lip lifted up, and her eyes turned calculating. “But what’s in it for me?”
“I’ll … think of something,” said Aidon. “You know I’ve come through for you before.”
He turned to the captain, who had observed the exchange with an artfully raised eyebrow and the tip of his moustache between his fingers. “Cap? We need a diversion. Madam Céibhfhionn can keep us covered from their sensors once we’re in the water, but we’ll need the Regulators’ eyes elsewhere while we exit the ship.”
The captain stroked his beloved mustachio. “Madam Céibhfhionn, ye said there was a pod of Nessies in the vicinity?”
“Yes, Cap,” she said. “Less than a decium off.”
“Excellent.” The captain turned to his first mate. “Prepare to launch the soup!”
“Soup?” exclaimed Aidon. “You’re going to throw soup at them?”
“No, we’re goin’ to throw soup nea
r them,” answered the captain with a grin. “Nessies love a good junglefowl noodle. They canst smell it from 10 decium away. And they get quite frantic when feedin’, the devils.”
Aidon smiled. “The Regulators will be too busy holding steady against the Nessies to worry about us.”
Madame Céibhfhionn nodded. “While we make a quiet exit to the South.”
“And we shoot for the North,” added the captain. “We’ll give ‘em a wondrous pedal through the fermented cruciferous vegetables before we cut ‘em loose. That’ll provide plenty of time for your trail to cool.”
“Wake Brianus,” Aidon instructed me. “We need to be ready at the hatch the minutus the Regulators engage with the Nessies.”
“I am impressed by the intellectual capacity of this man,” said Jasper. “I believe we were correct to throw our lot in with him.”
“But he said we have to swim,” said Gwendolyn. “I don’t like swimming.”
“Scaredy-cat,” said Sandy.
I scampered back to Brianus and shook him awake before dragging him back to where Aidon waited at a side-hatch. We watched the bridge screens that showed the vicinity of the sub below and above the surface. A grey metal ship was visible a short distance away. The Regulators.
“Soup’s boiling, Cap!” called the first mate.
The captain assumed a pose of military authority, hands behind his back. “Ready, aim, fire!”
The soup flew into the sky and landed with a glop in the water surrounding the Regulator’s ship.
Three minutes passed. BIOS ticked off each second. A groan echoed through the water and reverberated through the metal walls of the sub.
“I’ve got a head, Cap!” The first mate waved excitedly from his position behind the periscope camera viewing screen. “Thar she blows! Cor! There must be fifty of them at least, scupper me wi’ a barnacle!”
“It was a big pod, s’far as I could tell,” Madam Céibhfhionn interjected, “judging by the size of the poop.”
“Right, open the side hatch chamber, ye lubberin’ scallywags,” commanded the captain.
Aidon held out his hand to the captain. “Thanks, Cap, I owe you.”
“Yes, ye do,” replied Cap, grasping his hand and giving it a firm shake. “And I’ll be calling that payment in sooner than ye think, look ‘ee. But for now, be thou gone! I’m devastated we can’t do a rousin’ chorus to send thee off.”