Crystal Doors #1 (2 page)

Uncle Cap nodded. “Good point, Gwen. It also gives visitors a chance to gorge on food that they shouldn’t eat, and buy souvenirs that they don’t need.”

She smiled. “That too. And also —”

“Fourteen B?” Vic intoned.

She punched her cousin’s shoulder in mock exasperation. He often acted a lot more than five hours younger than she was. “Number five, you dork —”

She never got to make her point. They had reached the section of the park called the South Pacific Kingdom. “Pick a seashell and stand on it.” Uncle Cap hurried them onto the conveyor. “Quick.”

“Please watch your step,” a robotic voice droned from a speaker in an oversized replica of a spiny rock lobster.

The conveyor carried them down a tunnel. The clear arched roof offered a spectacular view of the aquarium around them. Gwen quickly forgot her list, and Vic dropped his impatient complaints as the darting sea creatures caught their attention.

The exhibit’s coral reefs were populated with sea urchins, frilled anemones, and slimy curtains of algae. Gwen studied the various species, identifying them from labels and drawings mounted on the glass: shrimp, seahorses, bright feathery crinoids, seastars, cruising sharks, sea fans, striped lionfish showing off their venomous spiny fins, moray eels, triggerfish war-painted in blue, brown, white, and yellow. Orange-and-white clownfish and zebra-striped angelfish swam among blobby sponges.

The underwater scenes mesmerized them all and, for a time, transported them to another world — exactly as Gwen had wanted.

THOUGH TIRED FROM WALKING, drenched from the rides, and queasy from eating so much junk food, Gwen was truly enjoying herself at Ocean Kingdoms (and not just the educational parts). It seemed like such a long time since she had lost her parents, but bittersweet memories still came back at unpredictable moments. She wished they could be there.

Uncle Cap instituted what he termed an Anthropologically Sound Method of maintaining harmony between the cousins: Before they left the aquarium, Gwen and Vic each chose the activities they most wanted to do, then Dr. Pierce arranged them in geographical order to avoid unnecessary backtracking. Any complaints about the other’s pick resulted in a lost turn in the rotation.

The three of them saw a giant water clock, visited kelp-bed experiments, blasted at targets with water cannons, and went
on splash rides that soaked Gwen’s hot-pink tee and white shorts. Vic’s thick brown hair got drenched and dried a mess, though he didn’t seem to notice.

After a long day, Cap suggested that they attend the main theater’s four o’clock Marine Spectacular, which had performing dolphins, sea lions, and a killer whale. Vic and Gwen both agreed, though for different reasons. When they got into the amphitheater, Gwen hurried toward the front to get a good spot. Vic couldn’t help teasing her. “Guess you want to be close enough to smell the fish, huh?”

“I want to be close enough so
you
can get splashed.”

“Too late.” He plucked at his wet tee shirt. “Already soaked.”

They found seats in the second row, near the ramp where the trainers and aquatic actors would stage their performances. As the open-air auditorium filled with young couples, senior citizens, laughing teenagers, and parents herding children or maneuvering rented strollers, Gwen scanned the rows of benches, the crystal blue water of the exhibition pool, the fabric banners depicting Shoru the trained killer whale. She looked at her watch — another ten minutes.

At the moment Gwen felt more relaxed than she had in the past two years. At times, Uncle Cap reminded Gwen so strongly of her father that she could almost believe he had never died… and she found that troubling. Was she betraying her own parents by accepting Uncle Cap and Vic as her replacement family? Such thoughts were sobering and disturbing, but how could she help seeing the uncanny similarities between her father and his twin brother?

Uncle Cap and Reginald Ivan Pierce — “Rip” to his
friends — had studied the same subjects and gotten the same university degrees in anthropology and ancient history. The brothers had made a brief bid for independence from each other, Uncle Cap in the Air Force and Rip in the Marines, but after serving their required stints they applied to graduate school at Berkeley, became roommates, and earned PhDs in historical archaeology.

On a dig in the dense jungles of Mexico’s Yucatan Peninsula, a pair of exotic and beautiful sisters had stepped out of nowhere and into the brothers’ lives — Kyara and Fyera, who would become Vic’s mom and Gwen’s mom. Both women were now gone. Gwen missed her parents and knew Vic must feel just as bad for his lost mother, though she, at least, might still be alive….

When the Marine Spectacular finally started, it was a welcome distraction from Gwen’s uncomfortable thoughts. Recorded music blared through the speakers. The host, a tanned man with curly dark hair and a bright smile, stood on a high podium above the water. Underwater gates opened, and six gray bullet-shaped dolphins streaked out in a choreographed water ballet. Female handlers in tight wetsuits swam along with the dolphins, holding on to their fins. Sea lions clowned, bouncing beach balls back and forth; an enormous walrus provided more comic relief.

Vic laughed at the host’s corny jokes, while Gwen tried to observe the creatures as a marine biologist would, studying the traits that made them so well adapted to living in the water. She was impressed with their intelligence and training.

After all other performers had cleared the tank, a black-and
white creature swam out to great fanfare and many cheers. As soon as Shoru the killer whale appeared, curled into the air, and dove under the water again, Gwen could see why he was the star of the show. Shoru amazed the crowd with his tricks and showed an incredible ability to understand and follow commands. If Vic could follow instructions that well, Gwen thought, he’d probably do better in school!

The curly-haired announcer called for a volunteer from the audience. Glancing around to see who would be chosen, Gwen was astonished when Vic grabbed her arm and waved it in the air. “Here! My cousin wants to do it.”

Gwen tried to yank her wrist free. “No, I —”

“Over here!”
Vic shouted, then elbowed his cousin. “Come on, Doc. You want to be a marine biologist. Here’s your big chance to get up close and personal.”

Gwen wasn’t exactly averse to the idea; she just didn’t like being forced into something she hadn’t planned. Before she could think of a rational reason for resisting, the announcer pointed at her. “I don’t know which one of those two is more enthusiastic, but we have our volunteer. Young lady, please join us!”

The audience applauded. Some of the children who had raised their hands reacted with obvious disappointment. Uncle Cap gave Gwen an encouraging smile, and she got uncertainly to her feet.

“Hurry now!” the announcer prodded. “Shoru’s hungry. Don’t make him wait for his snack.”

As if in a dream, Gwen found herself moving toward the aisle. When she and Vic were younger, their mothers had taught them
zy’oah,
a form of self-defense that combined un-
conventional techniques of balance, observation, evasion, and improvisation. Although the instruction had demanded poise and alertness, at the moment Gwen felt anything but self-assured and graceful.

A trainer led her to a ramp at the edge of the main pool, where a big bucket of fish waited. Gwen thought the trainer was cute, with a lifeguard’s build, a nice tan, strawberry-blond hair, and blue eyes that were entirely on her.
Everyone’s
eyes were on her, for that matter, and she felt distinctly awkward. The trainer hopped up onto the platform and reached out. Taking his hand, Gwen stepped up beside him, noting that she was almost as tall as he was. After the trainer asked her name, he tapped a microphone on his collar and said, “Everyone give a big hand to Gwendolyn Pierce, who’s going to help me do something… fishy.”

A ripple of laughter passed through the audience. For a moment she was thrilled to hear her name come across the loudspeakers. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Vic grinning and Uncle Cap with a wistful smile. A sad smile? Was he missing his lost wife? Gwen felt another pang for her own parents.

The story of how Cap and Rip Pierce had met the two beautiful women out in the middle of an isolated Yucatan jungle still seemed so romantic. “It was as if Kyara and Fyera were forest spirits who just magically appeared,” her father had told her once.

The sisters were anything but twins. Kyara, Vic’s good-humored mom, was full-figured and stood nearly as tall as the brothers. She had flowing dark hair and eyes as warm
and sweet as pools of melted chocolate. On the other hand, Gwen’s slender and serious mother, Fyera, was shorter, with baby-fine flaxen hair cut to chin length. Her gray-green eyes, the color of a stormy ocean, were in keeping with her reserved and thoughtful nature. Neither of them looked at all like the locals. They spoke perfect English and understood the esoteric work that Cap and Rip Pierce were doing out at the digs.

According to the stories, the moment their eyes met, Cap and Kyara were smitten with each other, and Rip and Fyera could not be parted. Both sisters loved the sea, especially the nearby blue Caribbean, and a few weeks later the two couples were married in a private ceremony on the beach near the ancient Mayan ruins of Tulum.

The mysterious sisters assisted Rip and Cap with their archaeology project, where their uncanny knowledge of languages proved helpful, not only with the local villagers, but in interpreting the markings on unusual artifacts. After three months at the dig, the Pierce brothers returned to the United States with their new brides, who were already pregnant. On May fifth of that year, Fyera gave birth to Gwendolyn Uma Pierce; five hours later, in a remarkable coincidence, Kyara had a baby boy, Victor Ivan Pierce.

Neither Gwen nor Vic knew much about their mothers’ families. Though they raised their children with unmistakable love, Kyara and Fyera were reticent to talk about their pasts. Gwen had always suspected that her father and uncle knew a lot more than they revealed — and now it was too late. Gwen found it enigmatic, like a fairy tale, and clung to the strange aspects….

“All right, Shoru!” The announcer’s voice boomed through the loudspeakers. “Time to eat.” Alone inside the big tank, Shoru plunged from one end of the pool to the other like a hungry puppy excited for his dinner.

Startling Gwen out of her memories, the handler reached into the plastic bucket, pulled out a dead fish, and extended it toward Gwen. She wasn’t squeamish about fish or slime — no potential marine biologist could afford to be. Gwen took the fish from the trainer, who flashed her a smile. She held on to the tail, the caudal fin, and studied the fish, trying to identify the species.

When she glanced again toward Uncle Cap and Vic, Gwen noticed a strange man sitting two rows behind them. He had unusual eyes that looked wrong, somehow, and thick eyebrows furrowed in an expression of intense anticipation. A chill ran down her spine. Why did that man give her the creeps? Everyone else in the audience was cheering and whistling, but the man just stared.

The cute trainer cleared his throat. “Gwendolyn — if I were you, I’d concentrate on the giant set of teeth that are heading this way.” His stage-whispered words boomed across the loudspeakers. Everyone laughed.

Gwen flushed with embarrassment, then turned back to the killer whale, mentally kicking herself. She’d never been so close to a large marine mammal before. This was a dream come true!

Swimming from one end of the tank to the other, Shoru kicked up quite a froth with his passage. The killer whale seemed agitated, and she could sense a bit of uneasiness from
the handler, too. He tried to cover it, but Gwen could read the concern on his face as he went on with the show.

“Hold the fish out, like this.” He took Gwen to the edge of the platform and she extended the dripping snack so that it dangled over the water.

She had seen this trick before and knew what was supposed to happen. The killer whale would rise out of the water and, as gently as a kiss, take the fish out of her hand, and probably splash her to the amusement of everyone in the stands.

But Shoru surged forward like a black-and-white torpedo. He launched from the water, mouth yawning open to reveal a set of sharp white teeth. Fishy breath came up at her, smelling like a clogged drain in a seafood restaurant.

Shoru was rising too fast, coming too close. It looked like he was going to attack her! This wasn’t supposed to happen! She let the fish drop, but the killer whale ignored it, lunging toward her instead.

The trainer acted swiftly. “Look out!” He dove to the side and tried to pull Gwen with him from the platform but missed because she was already moving. Her body instinctively remembered the
zy’oah
tricks her mother had taught her. She sprang backward to the edge of the platform, grabbed the rail, and swung to safety as the killer whale struck the end of the ramp where she’d been standing only an instant before. Shuddering, Gwen watched Shoru crash back into the pool. As he swam away, the killer whale seemed confused, like a sleepwalker who had just awakened and didn’t know where he was.

The trainer scrambled to his feet. “Are you all right?”

“Was that really part of the show?” she said, panting. The audience cried out in alarm; a few chuckled nervously, convinced the “accident” had been staged to add thrills to the performance. Uncle Cap and Vic scrambled toward her from the amphitheater seats.