by Jay Aspen
My new ocean-senses reach out to the great blue space beyond the pool and suddenly the whole Rhangarian island chain comes into focus with fresh clarity. No longer are the islands separate, but appear as mountain peaks rising from the seabed, mysterious and dark in the depths, rich with red and blue corals in the shallows. Seaweed flutters in the swirling current, home to fish and crustaceans moving freely with the ebb and flow of the water. Shellfish coat the rocks on the tide-line, while high above, the rock arches shelter trees alive with birdsong.
People here live to a different pulse, a rhythm shifting with waves and tides, and suddenly I can understand why so few are willing to relocate to a busy city or landlocked forest.
Aluna is riding just ahead of me. We’re approaching the wide sunlit arc of rock at the entrance when a sudden backwash of water hits my face as the powerful tail fluke of Aluna’s dolphin gives a great swish that lifts them both out of the water in a huge leap over the jagged pink corals of the reef.
I can feel the build-up of energy in my own dolphin as it prepares to jump and I’m clinging to the harness loop with both hands, flattening myself along its back.
The twisting thrust along the creature’s spine almost dislodges me, and then for a precious few seconds we’re flying through the sunlight in a cloud of diamond-glittering spray before plunging back into the water again. I sense that the dolphin rather enjoyed that leap and I’m not surprised when I find myself being carried on a few more leaps, even without a reef to jump over. I look round and see the whole pod arcing in and out of the water, riders and all.
And to think how grumpy I felt when I thought about not being able to ride my horse in Merkaan city...
I hear Saroyan’s laughter in my head and know that my thoughts have been overheard through our ongoing connection. I don’t care. This is too good to spoil by feeling embarrassed. I press my lips onto the sonar-weaver and produce a reasonable approximation for how I feel.
‘Isn’t .. this .. fun!’
The glorious leaping ride ends all too soon. The pod reaches a cluster of jagged rocks sticking out of the ocean. The whole group surfaces and circles the rocks a few times.
Saroyan reins in alongside me, tossing wet droplets from her long braids and pushing her mask to the top of her head.
‘We’re at Shark Point, just off the headland of Fourth Island in the Rhangarian chain. The current makes a few powerful eddies through the rocks, and fish often get caught up in the vortex. This attracts both sharks and dolphins. When the sharks arrive the dolphins flee, so we need to get their harnesses off and give them their best chance to escape.’
From my point of view, this doesn’t sound at all like the best plan when faced with a bunch of hungry sharks.
‘Saroyan! What about us?’
‘We wait. Stay with me and I’ll help you with the entrancement. Harnessing a shark is similar protocol to what you just learned, except that they’re not like dolphins, not interested in playing. They just want to eat you.’
Faced with the choice of staying with the rest of the team or remaining with my dolphin as it flees back to the safety of the cave pool, I assume I simply have to trust Saroyan’s guidance if I want to be part of this. But there’s a question hovering at the back of my mind that I should maybe have asked sooner.
‘Webdancer, I’ve learned entrancement on several predators in Karesh, but they’re all mammals. A shark is a cold-blooded... sort of fish. How is it possible to connect?’
She sends a wave of confidence and encouragement in my direction. Probably senses I might need it.
‘It’s a bit like the way your friend Severin captures the great sand-lizards of his home desert. With cold-blooded creatures like this you have to remember the entrancement will only be minimal, barely enough to give it pause in its drive to feed. Then you must seize the moment, select your preferred shark, stay alert, secure the harness, keep away from its jaws, and once you’re on its back you must swiftly get your feet into its gill-slits to control it. That’s how you steer and stop.’
I wait for further instruction, but that appears to be it.
That was meant to be reassuring? And what in all the hells does a ‘preferred shark’ look like?
But Saroyan is busy releasing her own mount, so I go along with what every other rider is doing. I unclip my harness from the loop around the dolphin’s head, then lean back and unhook the long sensor-elastic cord from its dorsal fin.
The creature knows the movement from past rides and helpfully ducks out of the head loop. It turns to face me, gives a cheerful burst of staccato clicks, and then with a mighty swish of its tail it is gone, leaping and finning through the waves with the rest of the pod. I get a faint sense that the dolphins know this place well and are eager to leave.
Saroyan appears at my side, harness grasped in her right hand as before. She pulls on her mask, dives, and swims a few body-lengths away. For the next few minutes she holds her position, finning gracefully to stay upright in the current. The others in the team fan out at similar spacing.
We wait, and my imagination is conjuring larger and larger sharks with each passing moment.
Or are the sharks the same size but with bigger teeth?
A burst of low buzzing suddenly tears through my earpiece. I look round and see Saroyan pointing up to the surface. As we swim towards the light Saroyan explains.
ELF-frequency alert. Someone flying a recon wants to talk, so we have to surface. Speech-frequency won’t transmit through water.
My head breaks through the surface into bright sunlight. The others surface at the same time, treading water in a large ring about the same diameter as the route of the sky-camouflaged recon circling overhead several feet above the waves.
Severin’s voice comes through my earpiece.
‘Quick update. Rhangarian guards blocked all remaining exits from the underwater cave and monitored the com-link to the surface. They tracked some encrypted transmissions to a point near Fifth Island so we guess the other enemy shuttles are there, floating on the surface and waiting to rendezvous. They need to take the replicator somewhere they can reassemble and use it. But we have the thieves trapped––’
He breaks off suddenly and there’s a crackly silence for a few moments before he switches back to transmit.
‘Emergency message from Mebele. The thieves blasted a hole in the side of the cave and escaped. They’re heading this way and we need your shark patrol to capture them. They have three kidnapped technicians on board and the harpoons the Rhangarians have on their recons are too powerful for unharmed capture. They’ll destroy the craft and kill the hostages.’
Aluna’s response transmits to everyone as well as Severin.
‘Do we know who the traitors are yet?’
‘No, sorry.’
‘That makes our job a lot more dangerous. Let us know as soon as you get that information––’
‘Shark!’
The warning comes from the lookout on the far side of the circle. Everyone dives instantly and turns to face the approaching frenzy of sharks heading straight towards us.
16
All I can see through the swirling blue-green current is an array of enormous jaws already open in readiness for their next meal, each revealing a double row of triangular razor-sharp teeth. My focus blanks out and I forget to tread water.
I begin to float towards the surface.
Hold!
Saroyan takes me at my word and overlays control of my mind just in time, as the lead shark changes direction and starts to swim towards me. I start finning again, facing the oncoming predator, following Saroyan’s guidance in attuning to the movements of the giant fish.
I focus on its tiny eyes, cold and unmoving as they estimate my weight and likely speed, even as I try not to be intimidated by its sheer size, far longer than the dolphin I’ve just abandoned. Guided by Saroyan, I move into a new variation of the familiar waveform of entrancement I’ve already experienced with other predators.
/>
This is very different from my playful encounter with the dolphin. My first impression is an overwhelming sense of powerful killing-eating machine, but as the attunement deepens I find myself able to mirror the beautiful, graceful movements of its body and fins.
The creature slows its attack approach. It seems confused and hesitant now, maybe unsure whether I’m prey or companion... and I sense other threads in its frequency. The feeling of cool water from the ocean depths flows over my skin, freedom of powerful movement with fins and tail, the cold, sweet taste of fish flesh and blood...
Now we’re circling each other like harmonies in a song, weaving and complementing as our bodies curve around the fluid shape of water. We move slowly at first, cadences of the song pulsing like waves on the ocean as the entrancement deepens.
I sense this is as far as the connection can go and put on a burst of speed towards the great pointed head, then deflect quickly at the last minute to reach its gills. My hand presses hard on the pectoral fin just before my feet use it as a springboard, and then the wild––and rather desperate––lunge to loop the harness over its head without it snagging on the half-open jaws.
I reach back and hook the cord-loop over its dorsal fin, breathing a sigh of relief as the sensor-elastic webbing pulls tight against sandpapery shark-skin. My harness clips securely onto the head loop and now I can stretch my legs down, fervently hoping I’ll be able to reach the nearest gill slit on each side.
I’m just able to hook my toes into the edge of its gills, thinking if only my focus hadn’t blipped out when the hungry killers approached I might have had time to choose a slightly smaller shark.
Instead, I inadvertently let the biggest monster choose me as the easiest candidate for a quick starter-course for lunch.
No time to think about that now. Saroyan glides past on the back of her own shark, pointing in the direction the rest of the team is heading, directly on an intercept course with the escaping enemy shuttle. I lean to the side, left foot pressing on the shark’s gill and to my enormous relief it dips a fin and veers left, following the others.
Beyond the rock of Shark Point there’s nothing but uninterrupted ocean between here and the coast of Eden. The wild and savage shark-song thrills with harmonics of teeming life in the blue depths, the feeling of freedom to roam uncharted waters. I’ve never felt more sharply alive, as if I could never bear to return to the limitations of life on land, let alone in a crowded city.
It isn’t long before the rogue shuttle comes into view, its camouflaged outer skin streaking through the dappled water on a straight course to pass Shark Point and reach the other waiting enemy vessels floating near Fifth Island. It’s a large craft of the type used as public service vehicles and is capable of carrying up to ten people. I fervently hope it’s just a transport and hasn’t been adapted to carry weapons as the small recons have. The shark-team fans out in a broad arc to intercept, careful not to get in each other’s line of fire as they unhitch harpoons.
‘Hold!’
The staccato sonar-command comes from Aluna as nineteen harpoon-heads train on the moving target. I have enough hunting and fishing experience to know that too great a distance means the barbed heads won’t sink into the outer layer of carbon-fibre shell far enough to get a grip, while too close means they’ll pierce the shell right through and the fractured craft will implode with the water pressure.
‘Now!’
The harpoons release in unison and latch onto the camouflaged shell. Aluna raises her hand, telling the team to turn back and tow the captive vessel to Fourth Island. I lean right, press on the right gill, and my shark swings into formation with the others. I wait until the trailing harpoon line is almost taut before clipping it to the head loop, feeling the sudden drag as the weight of the captive craft pulls against the shark’s forward movement.
The shuttle pilot is resisting expertly, thrusters on full reverse, forcing the sharks to stall in their efforts to pull forward. I squeeze with my feet and my mount doubles its efforts, moving forward slowly once more, with the others just managing to keep pace.
Too late, I discover the pilot’s move had only been a ploy. The shuttle suddenly shoots forward and all the harpoon lines go slack for an instant. This is the chance the pilot had been planning and waiting for, changing direction yet again and using the slack in the lines to make a bid for the surface.
I guess the only reason to do this must be to get clear of the water and send a warning message to the other enemy vessels waiting at Fifth Island. I struggle to get my shark back under control and pull down once again, but before I succeed I hear Saroyan’s inner message as she transmits in sonar to the team.
‘They just asked for backup. Look out for air attack any minute!’
It isn’t long in coming. I feel the impact of a small recon plunging into the water from above, the instant before I see it. Its first harpoon strike misses and disappears into the green depths below, abruptly informing everyone on shark patrol that the enemy pilots have adapted their own recons for warfare in these islands. Another harpoon misses, trailing its line and threatening to tangle the half-circle of sharks.
The third shot hits the Rhangarian warrior on my right, severing the long cord of his shark-harness and embedding itself in his thigh. The force of the blow knocks him off his mount, trailing blood from his wound into the water.
The instant it feels free of the controlling pressure on its gills the shark turns on its erstwhile rider, sharp teeth snapping closed across the man’s body. A savage clamping of powerful jaws as the creature tries to cut through the protective and evil-tasting wetsuit, before the lure of blood in the water proves too much. Instinct takes over and the beast swallows its victim in three huge gulps.
Struggling not to freeze into helplessness with the shock of what happened, I see my chance. The shark has swallowed the harpoon-dart and attached line along with its victim and the tranquilizer drug is leaching into its system through its stomach. Its movements are already growing sluggish and clumsy.
I urge my shark closer, struggling to maintain control as it becomes distracted by the blood in the water. I grab the harpoon line the Rhangarian warrior had been using to tow the large transport shuttle and unclip it from the semi-conscious shark’s head-loop. It’s getting difficult to see what I’m doing with all the blood in the water, but I finally manage to tie a loop in the harpoon-line stretching from the small enemy recon and disappearing into the shark’s jaws. Then I clip the two lines together and back off as fast as my distracted mount can be persuaded to swim.
The two enemy shuttles are now joined together by the connected lines. It’s impossible to predict exactly what will happen next, but it isn’t going to be good. I press my lips to the sonar-weaver and send the message ‘Back .. off!’ to the rest of the team.
As everyone moves away I can see the red haze in the water telling of several more casualties and there are two more riderless, motionless sharks that have either swallowed tranc darts or been hit by them. I know they’ll die soon if they can’t move water through their gills in order to breathe.
The enemy recon tries to make a sweeping turn to come back in for another attack. The shockwave hammers through the water as the line to the larger shuttle suddenly pulls taut and yanks both vessels violently off course. There are a few moments of confusion as both pilots struggle to work out what has gone wrong with their steerage.
This is the chance the shark team needs. They swim in close formation, dragging their captive shuttle to the surface and holding it steady.
Aluna instantly keys to voice transmit. ‘Severin, take the roof hatch off!’
He brings his recon down until it’s almost touching the waves, then lets off a short burst of bullets that shatter the lock-seals on the roof hatch, flinging it into the water. Unable to dive because of the breach and unable to take off with the weight of sixteen sharks still attached to the craft’s hull, the occupants are left with no choice.
The
pilot appears at the open hatch. He knows the protocol for surrender and ruefully throws all their hand weapons into the sea, then turns off the power to the shuttle and puts the key on the magnetic pod Severin lowers down to him.
I glance anxiously over my shoulder, aware that the armed recon could still do a lot of damage if they choose to go down fighting, only to see that Severin has already directed his second crew to dive into the ocean behind it. Having two shell-piercing guns behind him while still tied to a captive vessel convinces the pilot to signal surrender.
We are only a few minutes from Fourth Island. Severin helps us drag the captive shuttle towards the flat rock shelf used for mooring fishing boats. It seems the Rhangarian fishermen have already been warned and are scrambling to sail their precious boats out of harm’s way.
The shark riders cut loose their lines and leave Severin to tow the captured shuttles the last few yards to the dock. I follow the riders as they steer their sharks into a long narrow channel cut in the rocks.
Take off the harness!
Saroyan’s message comes just in time as once again my focus lets me down. I hadn’t noticed the riders in front of me releasing the long cord on their harnesses and unclipping the quick-release on the sharks’ head-loop. In a blur of expert movement, they clip the freed harnesses onto their backpacks out of the way. It feels like a dangerous move, although common sense tells me the shark is constrained by the narrow channel and so long as I keep my grip on its gills I’ll remain in control. Hopefully.
Then I see the extraction teams standing ready on the side of the rocky channel. Following the example of those in front, I hold up my arms for them to grab and pull me clear. I collapse in a wet exhausted heap on the rocky ground, watching my shark swim out of the channel exit and back into the open sea.
I heave a sigh of relief. It has been exhilarating but also one of the most nerve-wracking partnerships of my entire life. As I get to my feet I see that Saroyan has rescued one of the wounded Rhangarians before his shark could turn round and eat him. She grips him around the waist, not releasing him until the extraction team has pulled him onto the side. It leaves very little time for them to get Saroyan off as well before her harness-free shark is back in open water again.
