Chapter 5
Michael
“Ready, Cormie?” I asked, smiling down at the construct as they floated in the sealock.
I was in a wetsuit with air tanks, flippers, mask, the whole scuba rig that regular humans still required for in-person underwater exploration.
It was cumbersome, but I was used to it, having spent more of my life in the water than out of it.
To be honest, I sometimes envied Cormie their ability to become simply another denizen of the sea, but I understood the tradeoffs inherent in the process.
Not only was it a dangerous procedure involving months of downtime for surgeries, gene therapies, and integration of mechanical components, it was expensive beyond what anyone other than the most wealthy could afford and was only sanctioned by the government when the only alternative was death.
Constructs like Cormie were therefore rare, but invaluable to aid in research in dangerous areas where pure humans found it difficult to exist. There were even constructs on Mars with the capability to survive in the cold and low pressure of the surface, though they did require supplemental oxygen.
“Ready, Dr. Gail,” Cormie replied with a smile. “I’ll meet you at the lock.” With that, they submerged, the water splashing a bit over the rim of the lock.
“I wish you wouldn’t do this so often. It’s dangerous enough just for Cormie.”
I glanced over to where my mother sat behind the control panel, wearing a worried expression.
I smiled; she’d worried and fretted and cautioned me since childhood, but I had to admit, she’d never held me back.
Researching the ocean was her life’s work, and even though she’d never tried to bias me toward following in her footsteps, I suppose it had been inevitable that I would.
You couldn’t grow up with Dr. Maia Gail, the foremost oceanographer of her generation, as your parent and not want to be like her.
I just hoped that someday I could share with her the discovery I’d made. It didn’t seem fair that I’d practically stumbled into the most significant oceanic find of the millennium, perhaps of all history, but I couldn’t tell her about it. I couldn’t tell anyone.
“I’m fine, Mom,” I reassured her. “It’s a routine dive, and I’ll be back before you know it.”
She still looked worried, but she sighed and nodded. “I wish I had your confidence,” she replied, and stood up, crossing to where I was. She was far shorter than I was, but she craned up to hug me. “You’d better return safely,” she told me. “I just… I don’t know. I worry.”
I hugged her back. “I know, but you’ve watched me dive how many hundred of times? And it’s always fine.” I put my hands on her shoulders and held her away from me. “Besides, if I get hurt, just make me into a construct like Cormie. That way I can still dive and you won’t have to worry.”
“Not funny, Michael,” she said, smacking me on the arm. “Don’t joke about it. Just do your dive and get back to the ship. We only have another two days to wrap up this mission before that big storm hits.”
“Yes, Mom,” I said with forced meekness, but I had to hide my dismay.
I didn’t want to leave the reef, even though I understood the necessity.
What she didn’t know was that once the mission was over, I was coming back with my own small cabin cruiser.
I was lucky to have it, and it was fully automated, so I could remain in the area almost indefinitely.
“Go on, let’s get this over with,” she said, stepping away and gesturing at the hatch in the floor. “Don’t keep Cormie waiting.”
I nodded, then stepped into the water, which splashed up and onto her shoes. As I bobbed up, I grinned at her disgruntled expression before putting my mouthpiece in and testing the air. It all seemed good, so I secured my mask, tossed her a salute, then dove.
As usual, Cormie waited for me by the lock.
I checked the status lights, which confirmed that my mother had closed and secured the upper hatch, making it safe to open the outer door.
I motioned to Cormie, then hit the release, allowing the colder water of the sea to flow in and mix with that of the compartment.
We’d been on the Blake Plateau for nearly a month, researching the reef and cataloguing the lifeforms we’d discovered. However, no one but myself, and maybe someday my mother, would ever know just how special the reef truly was.
I followed Cormie into the depths, only flipping on the light on my mask when it became too dark for me to see him below me.
Fortunately, the reef wasn’t in complete darkness, but I needed more light than was present to make a positive identification of the lifeforms. Not that I was looking for new fish or coral anymore. Instead, I waited.
You’re finally here! I thought you’d never come.
The thought was a slight pressure on my mind, then Kaius shot around the edge of the reef, dashing past me with a flip of his tail before turning sharply and circling around me. He was faster than any dolphin, and I couldn’t have caught him if I’d tried. Fortunately, I didn’t have to.
He smiled, floating in the water in front of me, his long, dark hair a cloud around his head. As always, when I looked at him, I found it hard to breathe. Not only was he a miracle, he was also so beautiful it made my heart ache.
I’m sure that the myth of merfolk had existed since the first human had gazed at the sea.
Some called them sirens, evil creatures that lured men to their deaths, while others venerated them as guardians who warned fishermen of approaching storms. Every seafaring culture on earth had their own legends, but never in my wildest imaginings would I have thought they had any basis in fact. Not until Kaius.
Sorry, the briefing went long this morning, I thought back to him. It was a good thing he could communicate with me telepathically. Otherwise, I’m not sure he would have ever revealed himself to me at all. But I’m here now.
He swam closer to me, putting out a hand to touch my cheek, one of the only parts of my body not covered by my suit.
The area of the reef was in the thermocline, where the ocean temperatures dropped rapidly with depth, so without my suit, I would have quickly succumbed to hypothermia.
I leaned into the touch, and reached out to skim my gloved fingers over his chest, wishing I could touch him with my bare hands.
As long as you’re here, that’s all that matters now. Let’s swim, and I can show you the old caves. They’re so old they have stalactites.
All right, I agreed, then followed in his wake.
Behind me, Cormie waved, grinning at me, then began doing the cataloging I was supposed to be helping with.
I should have felt bad about leaving them to work, but back on the ship, they had assured me they didn’t mind.
They were of the opinion that my time with Kaius was more important than counting fish eggs.
See these rocks? Kaius turned to look back at me, motioning to a large pair of boulders nearly five meters tall. They looked like pillars. They mark the opening of the caves. My people often use them to train our youngsters to track stealthily.
Are you ever going to introduce me to anyone else? I asked, trying to keep the thought light.
It was strange, how much Kaius had told me about himself, about the reef, about his people, and yet he’d never told me exactly where his home was, other than “near the reef”.
Logically, I understood his caution, but I wanted to know so much more.
I wanted desperately, if perhaps futilely, to be part of his world.
I could sense an answering longing from him, every moment we were together pulling us closer, every moment we were apart making us long to be together again.
Yes, I had to admit it. I’d fallen in love with him. It might be impossible, even foolish, but I couldn’t deny it. And he, in turn, was in love with me.
The last two weeks, since I’d come upon him on the far side of the reef, had been absolutely magical in more ways than one.
He’d been floating next to a very old nurse shark, stroking it and making crooning sounds that had drawn me in his direction.
I’d surprised him, and we’d stared at one another for several long moments.
Then he’d swum away so fast he’d almost seemed to disappear, and I was left wondering if I’d lost my mind.
Obviously, I hadn’t mentioned the sighting to anyone, since even my mother would have had cause to doubt my sanity.
But I’d gone back down the next day and eagerly gone to the same area, hoping to spot him again and prove to myself I wasn’t going insane.
I’d searched in vain for hours, finding only the body of the nurse shark, which was already being harvested by the crabs.
Occasionally I’d spotted bubbles in the water, but nothing else.
The only oddity had been a pressure in my head, not painful, but subtle.
Something I couldn’t quantify or explain.
It had been the same the next day, and then the day after that I’d been much later starting my dive, since there had been a meeting on the ship to discuss what Cormie had documented.
I’d considered bringing Cormie with me as I’d searched for the merman (merperson?), but I wasn’t sure if having proof he existed would be a good thing or not.
When I’d finally made it into the water, I’d been alone, since Cormie needed a maintenance cycle for their tail. My mother didn’t like me diving alone, but it was still within the safety parameters of the mission, so she’d not been able to deny me.
I’d begun my search again when I felt the pressure on my mind building. Then suddenly there were words, as though someone were speaking to me.
You are alone this time.
I was excited. He was real. And he was speaking to me.