Bubbles spring where water simmers, twirling, furling, rising skyward. We circle round' the lurking forests, while little silver ones go dancing. They swim. They fly. They sing for us. They sail on toward the heavens. Air above and sky beyond. Now we sit on rocks and watch, coil tail or splash with fins — the sun is red as red can be, as she goes sinking down below. Down below to bring the moons, their glinting faces sparkling dark. Silver red on blackest night. We watch the silver ones go sailing, darting now from wave to wave. We linger here a little while, before the caverns call us home. And then descend to deeper waters, to sleep at night beneath the waves.
But one strange star glimmers bright on what should be a starless night, a brilliant flash to rival moons — a crash of thunder as waves send us to our cavern's quiet rooms. We wait and listen in the dark, clutch sisters close as world above runs hazy blue with blood. Then all is quiet, for a while.
Before electric voices and their buzzing in the dark.
Black ring around familiar face. Living, breathing yet so strangely lifeless. And we whirl in unison about, to wonder what the stars can bring. Hands and arms and torso yes — but two legs and black flippered fins where tail should be. It looks at us. We look at it.
He spins slowly in the water. (What the fuck am I looking at?) A half dozen or so of them — humanoid, with girlish faces eerily human, eyes cerulean shades of jade and lavender staring back with a naive curiosity. Almost human, if it weren't for the pulsing gills along their necks and uncanny proportion of those faces. Species unknown. Characteristics: fish, human? Specimen retrieval recommended. The diver exhales slowly, digitized thoughts echoing against his own.
"Yeah, well I'll be damned. Mermaids. Out here? What the hell."
Mermaids are not a currently recognized species, but exist rather as a mythological creature from Earth.
The diver waves a hand in irritation, sudden motion causing the observing creatures to scatter — eery gaze growing a little wary as they peer from behind the craggy corals and scattered rock of the lagoon's clear water. A glance at the dive computer. Air pressure good. Depth, 30 meters. Still, the ocean tumbles away below — light sand giving way to razored rocks before sheering into a dark blue abyss. The cavern yawns, beckoning.
You aren't thinking about it, are you? Depth is estimated to far exceed current equipment specifications.
"No, what would make you think that?"
You know I don't think. It just… seemed like it might be nice. To humans.
"Weird."
Excuse me?
The internal monologue falls silent, diver consulting the wrist computer again before beginning his ascent. The watching creatures linger, alien expressions strangely wistful as they mark the human's departure. The support vessel is waiting, hum of the maneuvering thrusters thrumming as he crests the water's surface.
"No sign. Must be deep. Real deep. Looks like there's a pretty big hole, signal coming from it. But I can't get a good reading on depth."
"Guess we send the ROV out tomorrow?"
"Yeah, oh and — did anyone mention anything…" A pause. Probably better not to say anything at all. (Yeah, no shit.) Maybe a little secret? Maybe…
"Anything about dolphins down there?"
"Eh? No, nothing confirmed here. Supposed to be a dead planet. But they've been wrong before. Wouldn't surprise me. Dolphins?"
"Yeah. Something like that…" The speaker gives another glance toward the placid waters; fancies he catches the sight of something peering back through the depths. A figure. Hair, flowing hair. Girlish face smiling back.
"We can check the log."
"Yeah, let's."
You know what you saw.
"Yeah, I do. So why'd you kill the log?"
I didn't kill anything. Sometimes it's just… humans see what they want to see.
"Telling me I'm going nuts?"
Well, are you?
He reaches up in silence and flicks the switch, that faint electric tingle signaling the machine's entry into standby mode. A little light spills in from the cabin door, sound and noise escaping from the rest of the crew, clustered around the table.
(Cards tonight, probably. Cards most nights out here. What else to do between the years of sleep? It was silent, now. The buzzing stopped. Most said they couldn't hear it, after a while. That you just got used to it, after a while. Never worked that way for me, and sometimes even when I shut her off, I'd still hear that ringing somewhere in the back of my skull. I should try to get some sleep.)
But sleep was long in coming, and when it did — only fits and bursts snatched between the waking moments of a distant night.
(Maybe I could see her again, but now we're in the water — her face is alien, twisted strange but eyes as brown as ever. Tail is curling serpent-like, where I knew legs should be. "Come" she said, and beckoned onward, took me by the hand. Soft fingers turn to sticking jelly, sucking rings around my skin — I can't pull free! Dive computer beeping, words are jumbled — thoughts are melding — couldn't be the end for me…)
He wakes with a start to the soft chimes of another distant morning.
Good morning, Jim. Time is 0500 of another thirty-four point five earth hour day. I hope you had a splendid night!
"Fuck!" He scratches at the side of his head. (Thing was getting really off lately. Or was it just me? Probably time for a reflash and reintegration) No, Jim. That shouldn't be necessary.
Cheerless breakfast and a grey, overcast day topside. Suit air tastes as stale as ever. No signal from above. Something about particulate in the cloud cover. The ROV splashes down, electric motor vanishing with a whine into the water. Images relayed to headsets, clear water turning murky as the ancient sun's red light fades into darkness. Headlights do little to illuminate the gloom, empty blackness peering back as the depth and pressure mounted. Eventually:
"Think we got the bottom."
"Hard to say, can't see shit. Something's interfering with the mapping." Nestled within the support ship's interior, a few red-eyed technicians hover over the output displays.
"What the hell was that?"
"Dunno. Looked like a fish. You think?"
"Nah, survey readouts said this sun's too unstable. Way past its prime. Shoulda zapped the life a while back."
"We are pretty deep… shit, that's a human face!" The three men crowd closer, voices buzzing to the crew outside.
"You guys seeing this?"
"Yeah. We see it. What was it Jim was saying the other day?"
"Dolphins, you said dolphins didn't you?"
"That's no dolphin man, that's a fucking woman's face." The exchange fizzles short, all three suited men outside exchanging glances and shrugging as the connection with the ship's interior dies.
"What'd you mean, 'lost the signal'?"
"Can't reach em'. Or the ROV, for that matter."
"Fuck man. Fuck — that's bonus down the drain right there."
"Send a diver for it?"
"Three hundred meters, that's within the limit of their dive suits. Or we could call in another?"
"Nah, Captain would be pissed. You know what he'd say."
"People are cheap, machines expensive?"
"Yeah." The three technicians exchange silent glances. Communication with the outside world picks back up.
"Hey, uh Jimmy." (Never called me 'Jimmy' if he didn't have a shit job in mind…)
"Yeah?"
"We lost the ROV at about 300 meters. Gonna need to ask you to uh… get on down there and see what's up, yeah?"
"Shit." Then that soothing voice, buzzing in his ears: With current equipment we should have no trouble reaching that depth and retrieving the vehicle… I hear the caverns are quite nice this time of day…
"Say what?" Silence.
Mother waited. Mother knew. She had met them once before. They looked she said, much like us — but thoughts were not the same. Danger in their waiting star, lurking overhead. Danger in their darkened hearts, where hate and sadness grew. But they could not swim — not like us!— nor dive so deeply on their own. So they sent their buzzing toys, to go whistling down below.
Their thoughts were soft, mother said. Shape them, mould them, play like clay. Watch as little stones go tumbling to meet the seabed far below, where glowing eyes and prancing baubles lived in places all their own.
Soon enough the sun's weak light no longer filters from above, cold dark surrounding as the suited diver descends down, down into the waiting depths. Time stretches eternal moments into seeming hours, senses lapsing into nothing as nothing now remains. Soft hum of the suit's internals follows each lungful of that stale, recycled air. Then, a soft light — glinting far, far below. Computer picks up a signal, begins to spit the readout into the display.
(No, that can't be right. 300 meters was where we lost it, but we're at 400 now and going down. They must have settled on a shelf and we missed it.)
Likely telemetry was imprecise, considering the machine's clear deficient state.
"You're not helping here."
Just a little further Jim, a little further down below and then you'll know.
(Now that made my skin crawl. We were heading down. Fast. 500 meters blasted by and I overrode the retros, felt the weight thrumming against my legs as we ground slowly to a halt.)
"Abort descent, Abort descent! We're getting too deep."
Incorrect, Jim. Test depth is generally two-thirds crush depth, we can go a little further. I hear the caverns are very nice, this time of year…
(They taught you a lot about panic. How to control it. How to maintain focus. First directive was always to consult the artificial assistant. They never taught you… never taught you…)
Never taught you what, Jim? What did they forget to teach you?
Something heavy slams against his back, shifting suited bulk. He wills machine to move, but there is no response. Overrides ignored. And something soft and coiling drags its way across the metallic surface, serrated suckers grasping as the descent begins once more. Alarms are blaring, but what once was human now can only stare — stare vacant thoughtless at the void, as that something pulls him down below.
"What the hell — first an ROV, now an ADS."
"Fuck the suit man. That was fucking Jimmy you just sent down there!"
"Yeah, whatever. We've got bigger problems. That thing's my promotion right there."
"What the hell is wrong with you man? Now what? We send the other guys down too?" A voice interjects over the intercom:
"Yeah, um — the 'other guys' are listening and they say both say 'fuck that'."
"What happened to the last survey vessel anyway? Go find the blackbox, they said. Well fuck me."
Thoughts unspoken fill the silent tension that follows, one of the tech's within the ship finally speaking:
"Yeah. Lose the suits. Get back inside. Captain can fry my ass if he wants. Not sending our guys back down there. Screw your promotion."
"Yeah man, not my scene. Not my scene. They got marine goons up there bred for this kind of shit."
Rich blue of the orbited waterworld shines bright through the viewport screen, washing the room's sterile white in a watery glow. A clear glass tank looms in the centre, lone form floating almost lifeless within the hazy water. Golden hair spreads through the recirculated current, tendriled gills flapping weakly where she lies. Those inhuman violet eyes wide open, yet seeming not to see. Tail inert, iridescent scales dull in the artificial light.
"She's been catatonic since they got her up here. Not dead, just out of it." A male voice spits out in monotone as he scans the tablet in one hand. A woman standing nearby spreads her hand across the glass, eyes narrowed as she peers at the creature inside.
"Maybe we should send her back? Seems wrong…" The man snorts.
"Most significant find in the last century of surveys, and you say send it back?"
"Can you imagine if that was… was one of us, in there?"
"No, I can't. You're letting her humanoid looks get the better of you. Just a fish. A big, dumb humanoid fish."
"I'm not sure we can be so sure…" The man shrugs, gives the floating creature a final glance before walking from the room, hiss of door following as it seals the bulkhead behind him. The woman looks back — looks back and starts to find an alien hand placed against the glass opposite her own — thin webbing veined between slender fingers — and those eyes, now alert, staring back at hers. She smiles. She smiles back — but the mouth is full of razor teeth, and those slender fingers bear curving claws. The human leaps backward with a gasp.
Smiling is seen as a form of aggression in most animals and even at times amongst humans. Don't be alarmed! She'll be sleeping very soon. We'll all be sleeping, very soon…
An involuntary shiver runs down the woman's spine.
"What did you say?"
Nothing! It's just, sometimes humans hear what they want to hear…
Tonight electric voices quiet, as they've ever been since taking sister. But tonight we sit upon the rocks and watch — watch the sun go sinking lower, and as it drops the stars come out. The new star shines now all the brighter, poised above our far horizon. Glowing, streaming like a comet. Sky will flash with blue and crimson as meteor goes shooting down to join the other one below.
Then we'll cry, and splash with fins as we clutch our sisters. One is gone to be with mother — to form again inside her womb. But with her loss fly troubled dreams, when mother's caverns call us home. Now we'll sleep, and sleep in silence.
But one strange star glimmers bright on what should be a starless night, a brilliant flash to rival moons — a crash of thunder as waves send us to our cavern's quiet rooms. We wait and listen in the dark, clutch sisters close as world above runs hazy blue with blood. Then all is quiet, for a while.
Before electric voices and their buzzing in the dark.
Black ring around familiar face. Living, breathing yet so strangely lifeless. And we whirl in unison about, to wonder what the stars can bring. Hands and arms and torso yes — but two legs and black flippered fins where tail should be. It looks at us. We look at it.
He spins slowly in the water. (What the fuck am I looking at?) A half dozen or so of them — humanoid, with girlish faces eerily human, eyes cerulean shades of jade and lavender staring back with a naive curiosity. Almost human, if it weren't for the pulsing gills along their necks and uncanny proportion of those faces. Species unknown. Characteristics: fish, human? Specimen retrieval recommended. The diver exhales slowly, digitized thoughts echoing against his own.
"Yeah, well I'll be damned. Mermaids. Out here? What the hell."
Mermaids are not a currently recognized species, but exist rather as a mythological creature from Earth.
The diver waves a hand in irritation, sudden motion causing the observing creatures to scatter — eery gaze growing a little wary as they peer from behind the craggy corals and scattered rock of the lagoon's clear water. A glance at the dive computer. Air pressure good. Depth, 30 meters. Still, the ocean tumbles away below — light sand giving way to razored rocks before sheering into a dark blue abyss. The cavern yawns, beckoning.
You aren't thinking about it, are you? Depth is estimated to far exceed current equipment specifications.
"No, what would make you think that?"
You know I don't think. It just… seemed like it might be nice. To humans.
"Weird."
Excuse me?
The internal monologue falls silent, diver consulting the wrist computer again before beginning his ascent. The watching creatures linger, alien expressions strangely wistful as they mark the human's departure. The support vessel is waiting, hum of the maneuvering thrusters thrumming as he crests the water's surface.
"No sign. Must be deep. Real deep. Looks like there's a pretty big hole, signal coming from it. But I can't get a good reading on depth."
"Guess we send the ROV out tomorrow?"
"Yeah, oh and — did anyone mention anything…" A pause. Probably better not to say anything at all. (Yeah, no shit.) Maybe a little secret? Maybe…
"Anything about dolphins down there?"
"Eh? No, nothing confirmed here. Supposed to be a dead planet. But they've been wrong before. Wouldn't surprise me. Dolphins?"
"Yeah. Something like that…" The speaker gives another glance toward the placid waters; fancies he catches the sight of something peering back through the depths. A figure. Hair, flowing hair. Girlish face smiling back.
"We can check the log."
"Yeah, let's."
You know what you saw.
"Yeah, I do. So why'd you kill the log?"
I didn't kill anything. Sometimes it's just… humans see what they want to see.
"Telling me I'm going nuts?"
Well, are you?
He reaches up in silence and flicks the switch, that faint electric tingle signaling the machine's entry into standby mode. A little light spills in from the cabin door, sound and noise escaping from the rest of the crew, clustered around the table.
(Cards tonight, probably. Cards most nights out here. What else to do between the years of sleep? It was silent, now. The buzzing stopped. Most said they couldn't hear it, after a while. That you just got used to it, after a while. Never worked that way for me, and sometimes even when I shut her off, I'd still hear that ringing somewhere in the back of my skull. I should try to get some sleep.)
But sleep was long in coming, and when it did — only fits and bursts snatched between the waking moments of a distant night.
(Maybe I could see her again, but now we're in the water — her face is alien, twisted strange but eyes as brown as ever. Tail is curling serpent-like, where I knew legs should be. "Come" she said, and beckoned onward, took me by the hand. Soft fingers turn to sticking jelly, sucking rings around my skin — I can't pull free! Dive computer beeping, words are jumbled — thoughts are melding — couldn't be the end for me…)
He wakes with a start to the soft chimes of another distant morning.
Good morning, Jim. Time is 0500 of another thirty-four point five earth hour day. I hope you had a splendid night!
"Fuck!" He scratches at the side of his head. (Thing was getting really off lately. Or was it just me? Probably time for a reflash and reintegration) No, Jim. That shouldn't be necessary.
Cheerless breakfast and a grey, overcast day topside. Suit air tastes as stale as ever. No signal from above. Something about particulate in the cloud cover. The ROV splashes down, electric motor vanishing with a whine into the water. Images relayed to headsets, clear water turning murky as the ancient sun's red light fades into darkness. Headlights do little to illuminate the gloom, empty blackness peering back as the depth and pressure mounted. Eventually:
"Think we got the bottom."
"Hard to say, can't see shit. Something's interfering with the mapping." Nestled within the support ship's interior, a few red-eyed technicians hover over the output displays.
"What the hell was that?"
"Dunno. Looked like a fish. You think?"
"Nah, survey readouts said this sun's too unstable. Way past its prime. Shoulda zapped the life a while back."
"We are pretty deep… shit, that's a human face!" The three men crowd closer, voices buzzing to the crew outside.
"You guys seeing this?"
"Yeah. We see it. What was it Jim was saying the other day?"
"Dolphins, you said dolphins didn't you?"
"That's no dolphin man, that's a fucking woman's face." The exchange fizzles short, all three suited men outside exchanging glances and shrugging as the connection with the ship's interior dies.
"What'd you mean, 'lost the signal'?"
"Can't reach em'. Or the ROV, for that matter."
"Fuck man. Fuck — that's bonus down the drain right there."
"Send a diver for it?"
"Three hundred meters, that's within the limit of their dive suits. Or we could call in another?"
"Nah, Captain would be pissed. You know what he'd say."
"People are cheap, machines expensive?"
"Yeah." The three technicians exchange silent glances. Communication with the outside world picks back up.
"Hey, uh Jimmy." (Never called me 'Jimmy' if he didn't have a shit job in mind…)
"Yeah?"
"We lost the ROV at about 300 meters. Gonna need to ask you to uh… get on down there and see what's up, yeah?"
"Shit." Then that soothing voice, buzzing in his ears: With current equipment we should have no trouble reaching that depth and retrieving the vehicle… I hear the caverns are quite nice this time of day…
"Say what?" Silence.
Mother waited. Mother knew. She had met them once before. They looked she said, much like us — but thoughts were not the same. Danger in their waiting star, lurking overhead. Danger in their darkened hearts, where hate and sadness grew. But they could not swim — not like us!— nor dive so deeply on their own. So they sent their buzzing toys, to go whistling down below.
Their thoughts were soft, mother said. Shape them, mould them, play like clay. Watch as little stones go tumbling to meet the seabed far below, where glowing eyes and prancing baubles lived in places all their own.
Soon enough the sun's weak light no longer filters from above, cold dark surrounding as the suited diver descends down, down into the waiting depths. Time stretches eternal moments into seeming hours, senses lapsing into nothing as nothing now remains. Soft hum of the suit's internals follows each lungful of that stale, recycled air. Then, a soft light — glinting far, far below. Computer picks up a signal, begins to spit the readout into the display.
(No, that can't be right. 300 meters was where we lost it, but we're at 400 now and going down. They must have settled on a shelf and we missed it.)
Likely telemetry was imprecise, considering the machine's clear deficient state.
"You're not helping here."
Just a little further Jim, a little further down below and then you'll know.
(Now that made my skin crawl. We were heading down. Fast. 500 meters blasted by and I overrode the retros, felt the weight thrumming against my legs as we ground slowly to a halt.)
"Abort descent, Abort descent! We're getting too deep."
Incorrect, Jim. Test depth is generally two-thirds crush depth, we can go a little further. I hear the caverns are very nice, this time of year…
(They taught you a lot about panic. How to control it. How to maintain focus. First directive was always to consult the artificial assistant. They never taught you… never taught you…)
Never taught you what, Jim? What did they forget to teach you?
Something heavy slams against his back, shifting suited bulk. He wills machine to move, but there is no response. Overrides ignored. And something soft and coiling drags its way across the metallic surface, serrated suckers grasping as the descent begins once more. Alarms are blaring, but what once was human now can only stare — stare vacant thoughtless at the void, as that something pulls him down below.
"What the hell — first an ROV, now an ADS."
"Fuck the suit man. That was fucking Jimmy you just sent down there!"
"Yeah, whatever. We've got bigger problems. That thing's my promotion right there."
"What the hell is wrong with you man? Now what? We send the other guys down too?" A voice interjects over the intercom:
"Yeah, um — the 'other guys' are listening and they say both say 'fuck that'."
"What happened to the last survey vessel anyway? Go find the blackbox, they said. Well fuck me."
Thoughts unspoken fill the silent tension that follows, one of the tech's within the ship finally speaking:
"Yeah. Lose the suits. Get back inside. Captain can fry my ass if he wants. Not sending our guys back down there. Screw your promotion."
"Yeah man, not my scene. Not my scene. They got marine goons up there bred for this kind of shit."
Rich blue of the orbited waterworld shines bright through the viewport screen, washing the room's sterile white in a watery glow. A clear glass tank looms in the centre, lone form floating almost lifeless within the hazy water. Golden hair spreads through the recirculated current, tendriled gills flapping weakly where she lies. Those inhuman violet eyes wide open, yet seeming not to see. Tail inert, iridescent scales dull in the artificial light.
"She's been catatonic since they got her up here. Not dead, just out of it." A male voice spits out in monotone as he scans the tablet in one hand. A woman standing nearby spreads her hand across the glass, eyes narrowed as she peers at the creature inside.
"Maybe we should send her back? Seems wrong…" The man snorts.
"Most significant find in the last century of surveys, and you say send it back?"
"Can you imagine if that was… was one of us, in there?"
"No, I can't. You're letting her humanoid looks get the better of you. Just a fish. A big, dumb humanoid fish."
"I'm not sure we can be so sure…" The man shrugs, gives the floating creature a final glance before walking from the room, hiss of door following as it seals the bulkhead behind him. The woman looks back — looks back and starts to find an alien hand placed against the glass opposite her own — thin webbing veined between slender fingers — and those eyes, now alert, staring back at hers. She smiles. She smiles back — but the mouth is full of razor teeth, and those slender fingers bear curving claws. The human leaps backward with a gasp.
Smiling is seen as a form of aggression in most animals and even at times amongst humans. Don't be alarmed! She'll be sleeping very soon. We'll all be sleeping, very soon…
An involuntary shiver runs down the woman's spine.
"What did you say?"
Nothing! It's just, sometimes humans hear what they want to hear…
Tonight electric voices quiet, as they've ever been since taking sister. But tonight we sit upon the rocks and watch — watch the sun go sinking lower, and as it drops the stars come out. The new star shines now all the brighter, poised above our far horizon. Glowing, streaming like a comet. Sky will flash with blue and crimson as meteor goes shooting down to join the other one below.
Then we'll cry, and splash with fins as we clutch our sisters. One is gone to be with mother — to form again inside her womb. But with her loss fly troubled dreams, when mother's caverns call us home. Now we'll sleep, and sleep in silence.
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