Swimming Without a Net (11 page)

The intercom beeped again. They could hear the air
lock re-cycling, and then the king of the Undersea Folk stepped inside. “Hello, my motherfuckers,” he said cheerfully.

Fred smacked her forehead and simultaneously glared at Thomas, who was laughing like a hyena.

“Sorry,
what
did you say?” Jonas gasped.

“Are you letting these other motherfuckers know what went on in the Pelagic?”

“Yeah, and after that we’re going to hunt up some whores and pan for gold.” She whirled on Thomas. “You couldn’t have shown him an Animal Planet DVD, ohhh, noooo.”

Thomas shrugged. “What can I say? King Mekkam likes what he likes.”

“I did not mean to interrupt your motherfucking meeting,” Mekkam went on, far too perkily given the long day they’d all had.

He was in pretty good shape for someone who was close to a hundred years old. His chest was broad, and grizzled with graying red hair. His shoulder-length hair was also streaked with gray, but he wasn’t “in good shape for his age.” He was in good shape, period.

“But I wanted to warn you, you little motherfucker, that I will be calling on your testimony first thing tomorrow. Also, my motherfucking son is on the way to your hut to ask you to dine.”

“Great,” Thomas muttered. “Uh, guys, the URV wasn’t exactly built to hold all of us at once.”

“I can take a motherfucking hint, Thomas.”

“So can I,” Jonas said, still giving Mekkam incredulous glances.

“I thought you were trying to make Artur fall out of love with you,” Thomas added, and was he—was that a sulk?

“The last thing I should be worrying about right now is my love life,” she informed him, but why was his unhappiness making her so darned happy? It was sick, that was all, sick,
sick
!

“I don’t suppose…” Mekkam began hopefully.

“Sir, that’s it. There aren’t any more. They cancelled the series,” Thomas explained.

“Cold-blooded bastard motherfuckers.”

“Yes, that’s exactly what the Bring Back
Deadwood
chat rooms were buzzing about. Too bad. Well, good-bye.”

“You have no more cultural documents I can view?”

“No!” Fred and Jonas shouted in unison.

Thomas folded like origami. “Well…I could probably find something…”

“I’m outta here,” Fred muttered. “Where’s Artur?”

Mekkam’s gaze went faraway and after a long moment he said, “He is coming ashore now, intent on knocking on the door of your hut.”

“You—you know that? You can find him with your mind?” Thomas asked, fascinated.

“Of course.” Mekkam actually shrugged. “That is what it means to be king.”

“Any of them?” Thomas was nearly stammering in his excitement. “You can find any of the Undersea Folk? Anytime you like?”

“Of course.”

“Is that how you found me?” Fred asked quietly.

“Yes, Fredrika. But I felt it prudent to leave you with your mother until—”

“Until you needed me,” she finished bitterly.

“Until you were ready to meet your father’s people,” he said, correcting her with firm gentleness.

“Oh.” She swallowed. “Uh. Sorry.”

“Quite all right, my little motherfucker.”

“That’s
it
.” Fred’s hand slammed down on the air lock release. “I’m outta here.”

“Wait, wait!” Jonas cried. “Uh, Mekkam—king, sir, whatever—one thing I don’t get. About Fred’s dad, I mean.”

Mekkam’s red eyes went narrow, but his friendly expression didn’t change. “He is one we do not speak of, Jonas. I do not expect you to understand all of our cultural—”

“Excuse me, sir,” Fred interrupted, “but seeing as how it’s
my
dad, I should have a say in what happens next, don’t you think?”

A short, difficult silence followed her statement. Given how anxious she’d been to leave the closing walls of the URV just a few seconds ago, she couldn’t believe she was finding an excuse to linger.

“Jonas can ask whatever he wants about my family,” she finished, wondering if Mekkam could throw her into the clink, or whatever the Undersea Folk equivalent was.

“Uh, thanks, Fred. Anyway, King Mekkam, the thing is—how could Fred’s dad hope to be king? If you have all your special king powers?”

Thomas’s eyes were wide but he said nothing; Fred imagined he was going to suck all the information he could out of whatever Mekkam’s response was. Not that she could blame him; she planned to do the same thing.

Mekkam was frowning, but it was thoughtful, not angry. “We know now that he could not have succeeded,” he said carefully. “And not just because many of his ‘followers’ were still loyal to my family. Yes, I can find an individual subject if I focus on that person. Yes, I can direct the thoughts of the Pelagic and project them into other minds. But none of it is unconscious. I must focus. I don’t—I can’t—”

“Eavesdrop?” Thomas suggested.

“Exactly, yes! Eavesdrop! I cannot do that.”

“So, does being the king give you extra special cool powers, or do your extra special cool powers make you the king?”

“All of my line can do as I do,” Mekkam replied, still being careful. Fred had the sense that the king did not want a misunderstanding to spring up. “Because of that, we are the royal family. Fredrika’s father felt our time was done.”

“Was he a really strong telepath, too?”

“Indeed, yes,” Mekkam replied simply. “He
could
eavesdrop. But he did not have the control my line has built over generations. He was all raw power and ambition. And that is why we are here, and he is not.”

A slightly longer silence fell, broken by Jonas’s, “Okeydokey. Thanks for clearing that up, sir.”

“You are a curious species,” the older man said, kindly enough. “You have done great things as a result.”

“Well.” Jonas puffed up a little. “What can I say? We’ve been kicking ass and taking names since—”

“Third grade,” Fred interrupted. “I’m outta here, Artur’s waiting for me.”

“God fucking forbid His Royal Majesty be kept waiting,” Thomas muttered.

“Play nice,” Fred scolded, inwardly smirking. “You guys are staying here to plunder your DVD collection?”

“Indeed, yes!” Mekkam boomed.

“Oh, I am
so
out of here.”

“Me, too,” Jonas said. “Can I borrow a scuba tank to get me all the way back?”

“For God’s sake. It’s not
that
long a swim.”

“Says Fishgirl!”

“Do not…” she said through gritted teeth, stripping out of the clothes Thomas had lent her—Jonas didn’t care, Mekkam didn’t notice, and Thomas was too busy grilling the king on his telepathy to pay attention to her now-nude state—“call me that. Ever again.”

“You won’t even care if I drown,” Jonas said mournfully. “You’ll just swim off and go have dinner with your handsome prince.”

“He’s not ‘my’ anything.” She paused, and grinned evilly. “And yes, I’d leave you and go have dinner.”

Cruelly outpacing Jonas, Fred was shaking the water
out of her hair and walking up the beach less than five minutes later. To her surprise, Tennian and Rennan, the evil blue-headed Undersea Folk twins, were sitting on the beach (nude, but then, that was normal for her father’s people), watching the horizon.

“Good evening, Fredrika,” Tennian said to the sand.

“Hi, Tennian. Rennan.”

He didn’t answer, just kept squinting at the horizon. Fred was about to verbally humiliate him when Tennian’s left elbow slammed into his side so hard, Fred actually heard a crack.

“Good evening,” her brother managed, then slowly flopped over on his side and moaned into the sand.

“We look forward to hearing your testimony tomorrow,” Tennian added, looking up and smiling shyly.

“Do you?”

“Also, His Highness,
our prince
…” This was followed by a glare at her writhing twin. “…is looking for you.”

“Yeah, Mekkam—
your king
—already told me. Thanks. Nice to see you guys again.”

“Do you—” Tennian cleared her throat and tried again. “Do you know where Thomas is?”

“The URV. He’s picking out movies for the king to watch.”

“Oh.”

Fred knew it was a perfect time to leave. Rennan had shattered ribs and would think twice before snubbing her again. Artur was waiting. The king was out of her hair. Thomas was out of her hair. Tennian didn’t have the courage to interrupt her king, so she didn’t have to worry about what Tennian and Thomas were up to.

Perfect.

There would never be a better time to leave.

Never.

So: time to leave.

“Thomas wouldn’t mind if you swam over,” Fred said to Tennian, surrendering. “In fact, he’d be delighted to see you again.”

“Oh, but he is meeting with the king. I couldn’t—”

“What meeting? He’s lending the king DVDs. Never mind what they are,” she added as Tennian opened her mouth. “The point is, it’s not official business. Go ahead.”

Tennian had already leapt to her feet, showering her moaning twin with more sand. “Well. Perhaps I will. In the interest of—of—”

“Interspecies communication,” Fred suggested, cursing herself for having a conscience.

“Exactly!” Tennian cried, then scampered toward the surf. At once she stopped and turned. “Oh. Rennan. Good-bye.”

“Yeah, toodles,” Fred told Rennan, who had slumped over like a beached manatee and just lay there, breathing hard.

And off Tennian went, to slobber all over Fred’s boyfriend. Well. One of her boyfriends. Not that they’d decided on anything official, because they certainly—

“Little Rika?”

“Coming!” she called, and stepped over Rennan’s body to run up the beach.

“I have something to show you.”

That was all Artur had told her. Then he’d led her to the shore and they’d waded in until the water was up to their hips. Then they dove, shifting to their tail-form.

I’ve spent enough time in the water today, don’t you think?

I think you complain to hear the sound of your own voice, Little Rika.

And I think you should blow your—

Here!

She looked…and nearly gasped. Artur had led her to what appeared to be a good half an acre of seaweed. The dark green contrasted beautifully with the bone-colored sand, and the vegetation went on and on and on.

He caught her by the hand and led her to it, and she picked a large leaf off a plant and cautiously nibbled it. Then, growing bolder, she stuffed the waxy, plump leaf in her mouth and chewed.

It tasted salty and green, like the seaweed that came wrapped around maki rolls in a Japanese restaurant. It was delicious!

She grazed contentedly for a good twenty minutes, hoping Artur wouldn’t make any cruel observations as to her manatee-like behavior.

See? I knew you would like this. Even those of us who eat fish like this.

It’s delicious. I could make a salad out of this stuff. A little olive oil, a little rice vinegar, some sesame seeds…

Only I could show you this.

You, or any marine botanist.

She heard him snort in her head, and she stuffed a last leaf in her maw.
Yum! Better than spending your evenings cracking open clams like a damn otter or something.

Little Rika, when the Pelagic is over, I wish you to come home with me.

Whoa! That had come out of nowhere. She thought they were having salad, not discussing living arrangements.
Home, the Black Sea home? That home?

Yes.

She thought about it and he let her; they both floated just above the seaweed spread. Finally:
I think that might cause you some problems, Artur.

Ha! My people are slow to change, but they
do
change. Why do you think it has taken us so long to even meet on this subject, much less make a decision?

Tennian laid it all out for me. That if it wasn’t for you, everybody’d be dissing me all the time.

But I am here, and I want you to be my princess. If you are my princess, no one would dare be “dissing” you.

That’s a pretty poor reason to marry into the family. To get people to like me.

I do not presume to know your reasons, Little Rika. I only know my own. The entire twelve months I had to stay away, there was not a day I did not think of you and wish I could be with you. Did you not think of me?

He had swum up behind her and was holding her around the waist, where her belly met her scales. His big hands were stroking, stroking.

Yeah, I—I thought of you.
And one other.

You do not need to answer me this moment. Or even this week. But I do not wish to return home without you, Little Rika. I understand it is much to ask. But I can give you much in return.

And my job…?

You can apply your training for the betterment of our people. Yours and mine. And one day you will be their queen.

Eeeesh. I dunno, Artur. It’s a lot—

Yes.
He nuzzled the slope of her neck and she was having a hard time concentrating on what he was saying. Thinking.
And I offer a lot in return. Only say you will ponder my offer, Little Rika. That is all I require of you this night.

Okay. I’ll think about it. I promise I will.

Then all is well.
Abruptly he released her, and she was actually disappointed. Usually he got gropey and then she punched him. That was their thing.

Maybe Artur was trying a different approach.

Scratch
maybe
, she thought, swimming after him. Definitely. Question was, what was she going to do?

She thought about it all the way back to shore.

She and Artur were still shaking the seawater out of
their hair, ankle deep in the surf, when she heard the resort van wheeze into the driveway.

Okay, that was weird. Everybody was here already. The staff had been dismissed. Thomas had promised them privacy. It was probably just a grocery drop-off…but at this time of night?

She turned to Artur. “Get lost. I’m not sure who’s here.”

“As you like, Little Rika. I already have what
I
want.” And with a devilish grin, he waded back into the surf, dived in, and vanished.

Fred trotted up to the pool, where any number of towels were still scattered. She started frantically grabbing and discarding towels.

Jonas, still dripping and panting from his swim back from the URV, was sprawled on a lounge chair. “What?” he groaned as Fred hurriedly started wrapping towels around her waist, chest, and hair. “I almost
died
, you know. I almost died!”

“Shut up, you didn’t almost die. Help me.”

“Help you with what?”

“We’ve got company, but I don’t—”

“Jonas? Honey?”

Fred knew that voice. She
knew
that voice! She’d been hearing it for years and, these days, had been hearing it far more than she ever had before. Not just at work, but at dinners, in her apartment…and now here.

Oh, God, please not here.

“Jonas?”

Horrified, Fred and Jonas stared at each other, then in the direction of the voice.

And—yep, there she was. Staggering down the path with a suitcase the size of a hope chest. And it was probably stuffed with lab coats.

“Dr. Barb!” Fred nearly screamed.