by J G Barber
“We’re fine,” she reassures them. “We belong here.”
Monica-Lorelei ushers them into a room filled with medical equipment. Jiao and Maraja lead each of the young women to a table. “Undress,” Monica says. “Before we can invite you to join us, we must confirm you have the potential to become a Sirenian.”
Narmaya disrobes without hesitation, displaying her body. Her girlfriends look at each other, shocked and aroused. Maraja signals to them to disrobe. Seeing they are all nervous, Maraja removes her scant clothing to help put them at ease. “My dear sisters. Celebrate your lovely bodies. There’s no place for shame here.”
Jiao prepares a syringe as Monica-Lorelei inspects Narmaya’s body. “Are you a bisexual?” Monica asks.
“I don’t know,” Narmaya responds. “I’ve never been with a woman.”
Moving in closer to her, Lorelei sings a sweet, sad, irresistible song of longing and desire, a song intended to awaken the Sirenian gene. Narmaya and her girlfriends all feel the song affect them, as if it’s stirring the cells of their body to life. They feel life force and a primal, insatiable desire flow through their entire bodies. It’s unlike anything they’ve ever experienced.
Monica-Lorelei presents her breasts to Narmaya for inspection, at ease revealing her nudity. “We are a community of females who love other females. Your sisters will find you attractive and wish to make love with you. Can you feel the attraction between us?”
Narmaya takes Monica-Lorelei’s breasts into her hands with loving care. As her hands explore them and her eyes admire their swollen, sculpted perfection, her pulse quickens and her cheeks flush. “Yes,” she breathes out, unable to stop herself from taking each nipple into her mouth and teasing it with her tongue.
Monica-Lorelei strokes Narmaya’s hair. She slowly slides her fingers down Narmaya’s neck, across her chest and down her abdomen, then down her thighs and back up to the pelvis, until Narmaya’s entire body quivers. Monica-Lorelei cradles her head with one hand, cups her vagina with the other, and kisses her as her fingers go to work. Within minutes, she brings Narmaya to the most earth-shattering orgasm she’s ever experienced in her life.
“Take her blood,” Lorelei commands to Jiao as Narmaya’s body continues to quiver.
Once she has the sample, Jiao inserts the needle into one of the six rapid DNA analyzers and ejects the blood from the syringe. “We’ll have the results in an hour.”
Narmaya’s girlfriends watch her as she catches her breath and regains her composure. “What did you do to me, sister?”
“I infused you with the Sirenian spirit, to see if you responded to the call.” Monica-Lorelei licks her glistening fingers with delight. “Indeed you did. You pass the first test.”
“And why did you take my blood?” Narmaya asks.
“The test confirms you have the Sirenian gene,” Jiao explains. “There is no scientific explanation for it, but we find the results are most accurate when we take the sample during orgasm. We Sirenians are orgasmic creatures by nature. Perhaps we are most truly ourselves when we orgasm.”
Maraja stands before the first young woman in Narmaya’s entourage and performs the ritual with the same passion and intensity that Monica-Lorelei shared with Narmaya. Maraja repeats the ritual with each young woman until Jiao has collected blood samples from all five of them.
Still naked, drunk on their ignited passion and set free from their inhibitions, Narmaya and her girlfriends tickle and chase each other around the clay dance floor. They allow their hands and lips to explore each other and their bodies to entangle, curious and excited by the new sensations and feelings. A smiling resident enjoys watching them play as she delivers a tray of fresh fruits, leaving it on one of the mermaid tables for them to enjoy. They feed each other bites of the local Mexican produce: tomatoes, oranges, mandarins, pineapples and the exotic cactus fruit, pitahaya. Narmaya and her girlfriends savor the fresh, vibrant flavors as they feed each other bites and lick the juices off each other.
Monica-Lorelei, Jaio and Maraja join the women on the dance floor, all smiles. “It is confirmed,” Monica declares. “You all have the Sirenian gene. Welcome, sisters.” Narmaya and her friends jump up and down, screaming and crashing into the sirens and each other in a giggling celebration of their new beginning.
“Your training begins today,” Lorelei says. “The first lesson will instill the Sirenian mission in your heart and prepare your mind for what will be required of you to fulfill it. Come with me.”
Narmaya and her girlfriends follow Monica-Lorelei into Leucosia’s chamber. Lorelei leads them to the wall at the far end of the conference table and sings a call to activate a seamless doorway in the wall. They descend metal-railed stair to an underground version of Lorelei’s private art gallery from Whidbey Island. They built this gallery with a more spacious floor layout to allow for a group of visitors. It’s all here: the stone icons of sirens in their different half-human, half-animal forms; the Serpent Goddess statuettes including the one that harbored Lorelei’s spirit after Paul killed her previous host, Shannon; the cases of jewelry and coins, and the original paintings of sirens and mermaids in all their mythical glory; and the renditions of the seven sisters throughout the ages, in their different host bodies.
Monica-Lorelei motions the women to explore the space while she studies their reactions. Lorelei provides the narrative. “We Sirenians have existed on this planet since before the history of humans, long before the times of Atlantis, where our current epic began. We have no clear memory or stories of our origin, but some of us once believed we came here from a water planet in the stars, and made the oceans here our home. What you know as the mermaid is our original form. A genetic variation from our early mating with humans resulted in our ability to shape-shift. The original Sirenian society was matriarchal. Our mermen were fierce warriors that obeyed our commands and protected us from predators and threats. During these olden times, the humans revered us, we shared a love with them, and that is why we interbred. That is how you all came to exist. That is why you see romantic portrayals of our kind in their artwork. Even in modern human times, some of them never forgot the love and admiration they once felt for us. That is why so many like yourselves have longed to transform into mermaids.”
Narmaya’s girlfriends gather around her as she studies the various representations of the Serpent Goddess. “I recognize these Great Mother figurines. Minoan artifacts, from Crete.” She surveys the older artifacts. “We were once so powerful. Where did our dark destiny begin?
“Atlantis is where our dark fate was cast. Queen Leucosia and many others were genetically altered. The alterations were both a gift and a curse. The ability to transform into creatures of sea, land and air gave us mobility and freedom. Our song and natural sensuality were enhanced. But the Atlanteans’ purpose for doing this was far from benevolent. They intended us to serve in their wars. The Great Flood provided our escape, and our gossips scattered around the globe to safe havens, including the Mexican highlands. But the genetic experiments traumatized our brothers and sisters. Their natures turned aggressive and hostile to the humans. The males began attacking humans for food and the females used their song to lure them to their demise. Thus the genocide of our kind began.”
The young women breathe through a wave of immense grief and suffering. Narmaya and her girlfriends hold each other, sobbing, as they feel the cellular-genetic memories of the atrocities visited upon them, of a noble race reduced to near non-existence.
Lorelei allows them some time to process their feelings before she continues. “For centuries, the attacks by the humans were ineffective. They kept their kind away from us with local poems that characterized us as dangerous. It all changed in Europe, at the onset of the medieval times. The humans organized and retaliated. They first sought to eradicate our males, so we could no longer reproduce. They were enchanted by our females and did not want to give them up. That is until a madness overtook them. The Europeans traveled the globe, persec
uted their kind and ours, categorizing any who opposed them or lived by a different standard as demons according to their predominant religion. And they spread their disease around the globe until they reduced our kind and many other species to near extinction.”
“How many of us survived?” Narmaya asks, speaking the question all the young women are thinking.
Deep grief overshadows Monica-Lorelei’s face. Lorelei continues, “As far as we know, Queen Leucosia is the last surviving Sirenian born in her original form. I am one of the seven sisters who learned how to perpetuate our spirits in human hosts that carry the Sirenian gene. We have existed this way for many centuries.”
The young women stay silent for a long while, walking through the gallery, taking in the remnants of the Sirenian imprint on Earth history and culture. Narmaya finds an original copy of the Mallus Maleficarum, The Hammer of Witches, opened to the page that describes sirens as aqueous demons. The book that inspired several hundred years of inquisitions against the Sirenians and human pagans who did not practice Christianity as defined by medieval doctrine.
Narmaya breaks the silence. “Paul is a human of European ancestry. The father of your child. And he killed you. How do you reconcile it in your heart?”
Lorelei laughs. “A share a sordid past with the Douglass clan. Our fates have been bound since Leucosia’s gossip established its home in the German Rhineland.” She wags a finger at the young women. “And make no mistake. He did not kill me. I am a Sirenian spirit. My spirit has inhabited many hosts over the millennia. Paul caused my host to rebel. She took her own life. It has happened before.”
Monica-Lorelei studies the gold Serpent Goddess statuette that has contained her spirit on many such occasions where she transferred between hosts. Lorelei recites her prophecy once again. “Great Mother speaks to me. Paul belongs with us. All our sisters long to mate with him, as you do, Jalpari.”
“Yes,” Narmaya says. “I wanted to fuck him from the very first time we met.”
Lorelei continues, “The Atlanteans damaged Queen Leucosia beyond repair. She cannot bear a child. This is where we come in. We will be the mothers of New Sirenia. I carry the father of our new race in my womb. Achelous will provide the seed to resurrect us from the precipice of extinction. Of course, I cannot mate with my son, but he can mate with my sisters and all of you. Our song will bring forth the Sirenian gene as the dominant one. Those of us who bear the gene altered by the Atlanteans will protect our gossips. Those who bear only the Sirenian gene will become the foundation of New Sirenia. Together, we will sing the global call to self-destruction to lure the invasive human species to its demise before they poison and consume all life on Earth. Our song shall spare those humans who carry our gene. We will allow them to begin again, free of their destructive inclinations. And we shall repopulate the oceans to restore the Sirenians to the rightful place as the benevolent rulers of this planet. This is our mission, sisters. It is your honor to become you a part of it. And we are honored you have joined us to fulfill our divine purpose.”
“I was born to fulfill this purpose,” Narmaya declares. “I have known it since I was a child. But never has it been articulated in a way my mind could understand. Until now.” Narmaya gives Monica-Lorelei a passionate kiss as she enfolds her in arms.
Monica-Lorelei looks deep into her eyes, stroking her hair. “You will be a leader among us. I can feel it.”
Narmaya’s girlfriends gather around them in a group hug. “We are home again,” they say together, speaking their minds as one.
Chapter Sixteen
After sleeping through the day and until after midnight, Paul awakes to find everyone else asleep. He drank some of El Anciano’s tea before bed to help flush the drugs out of his system, and it knocked him out. In the still of the night, he longs for a taste of the Y Griega.
He moves to his spot and into a meditative position. Paul takes in slow, circular breaths until the drug lust to dissipates. In its place, the feelings of his ancestor, Aztlan, fill him head to toe, a deep and soulful love overshadowed by a fear of impending doom. The fear drives him to his feet. He gears up and sneaks out into the night.
Paul steals down the boat dock and boards the Allison SUB. He fires up the engine and heads out into Zihuatanejo Bay. As he motors toward siren island, he wonders why he has not connected with Leucosia again after their shared dream. We’re related, he reflects as the island slowly comes into sight in the distance. She’s like my distant cousin or something like that. Her emerald green eyes peer into his mind to interrupt his thought.
Tonight’s techno party was too much for Leucosia to bear. She stands out to her meditation rock, looking in Paul’s direction, sensing his approach. She expands her hearing to pick up the faint sounds of the boat engine and its bottom slapping against the water. Lorelei.
In response to her thought, Monica-Lorelei joins her on the rock. “Your plan failed. Paul returns to us again,” Lorelei says, expressing her signature grin on Monica’s face. “Why do you refuse to hear me? He cannot deny his Sirenian nature.”
“Why are you not outraged by his presence?” Leucosia asks. “He tried to kill you in Seattle. I cannot comprehend your persistence in this delusion.”
Lorelei laughs. “I tried to kill him, dear sister. He’s a worthy opponent, and a great fuck. I respect that. And we must not lose sight of his role. He is the father of our child.” Monica-Lorelei turns Leucosia to face her. “We have more important concerns tonight. Meet us outside your chamber. I’ll join you shortly.”
In no mood to engage in a pointless debate, Leucosia retreats to the facility. Monica-Lorelei watches as the boat comes into view. She sings the irresistible song of longing, the one intended to speak to Paul’s Sirenian gene.
Paul feels the cells of his body stir. The conflict that haunted him in Seattle returns, the internal tug-of-war where part of him wants to surrender to the song and follow it wherever it leads, and another part of him clings to his marriage and the familiar unfamiliarity of the siren hunter tribe.
Monica-Lorelei returns to the facility as the Allison SUB rounds the rock jetty toward the cove entrance. Inside, another night of drug-and-alcohol-fueled techno raving rages at full volume. She collects Jaio, Mami, Maraja, Sirena and Suvanna from their observation posts around the dance floor. They circle up with Leucosia outside her chamber to await Paul’s arrival.
Monica-Lorelei points out Narmaya to Leucosia. Narmaya dances with wild abandon, leading her girlfriends from the beach in a wanton display of feminine sexuality. They own the center of the dance floor, motivating the surrounding potentials to follow their moves.
“We are all moved by this new arrival,” Lorelei says. “She calls herself Narmaya. We feel she has great potential.” Mami, Jaio, Maraja, Suvanna and Sirena all nod agreement.
Leucosia studies how Narmaya moves, taking in the power of her presence. She’s impressed. “What were her test results?”
Jaio explains. “Her blood tested positive for the Sirenian and Atlantean genes, as we all do. She could be…”
Leucosia silences any further speculation with the tone of her voice. “Jalpari will identify herself to us, according to the prophecy.”
El Jefazo greets Paul at the dock. “You are a tenacious man.” He ties off the Allison SUB and lends Paul a hand onto the dock. “I respect that.”
Paul glares at him with siren hunter-killer eyes. “I did not appreciate you all shooting up my home.”
El Jefazo opens his arms. “I am innocent. We fulfill our contractual obligation. No ill will intended on my part.”
Paul looks up at the facility. “Whose ill will was it, then?”
“Our mistresses await your arrival. I will show you the way.” El Jefazo leads Paul up the metal staircase on the right side of the beach. As Paul reaches the top, he feels a pumping surge of techno beat vibrate in his body. The groove is infectious.
El Jefazo leads him through the crowd of disrobed dancers as they let loose in a full
dance frenzy to the rhythm of the beat. Hands stroke Paul’s body as one woman after another attempts to pull him against her. Paul has no problem ignoring the women, but he has to summon his will to fight off another wave of drug lust as they walk by the tables stocked with alcohol, cannabis and cocaine. He studies the dense, light green buds covered in white crystals. Fuck me, is that the Y Griega? Before his will caves, he’s distracted by Narmaya’s moves in the center of the dance floor, as she slithers into a siren’s dance, moving the way Lorelei did when he first danced with her in Seattle. Shit. She is a siren.
Paul turns his focus to the six sisters outside Leucosia’s chamber. They shoot him a collective come-fuck-me look, humming a siren song intended to evoke his lust. He marches forward to join them. The sirens greet Paul with a train of full body kisses, each attempting to drive Paul’s desire over the edge. Dismayed by his strength of will, they dismiss El Jefazo and usher Paul inside the chamber.
“I’d like to speak with you, Leucosia,” Paul says. “Alone.”
Leucosia extends her arms. “We are the seven sisters, united in our hearts and our purpose. We can discuss anything you wish to discuss with me in their presence.”
“I ask you once more to choose the path of peace.” Paul looks deep into her eyes, connecting with her soul. She’s moved by the intimacy. “We share a memory from the time of Atlantis. We are related through your father. Join me in remembering the truth of who we are.”
The six sisters surround Leucosia. “There is only one pathway to peace for you, Paul Douglass,” Lorelei says. “Accept your destiny with us.”
Paul looks at each of the sisters, one by one. “My ancestor, Aztlan, freed Leucosia from a fate of slavery to the Atlantean war machine. She would not be here today without his acts of courage and sacrifice. Perhaps my destiny is to free you all from the tyranny of your desire for vengeance.”
