You’re outmanned and outgunned, you stupid shark, Chase thought but didn’t say. There was no convincing Loptoheen to back off when he smelled blood. The trouble was there would soon be plenty of blood for everyone…and most of it would be Seomish. If the tu’kelke couldn’t find a way to get along with humans, they had no future on Earth.
No future at all.
Chase told them he and Likteek would return to Keenomsh’pont. The trip would take days and Chase wasn’t sure he could find the way. But Likteek was pretty clever with sound and scent.
“Follow the repeater songs,” the scientist told Chase. “That will lead us to Keenomsh’pont.”
Chase did that. It was during the long, boring stretch across the sea lanes of the Indian Ocean and the south Atlantic that an idea came to him. He didn’t share it at first with Likteek. Likteek would never have approved anyway.
A day’s ride out of Keenomsh’pont, Chase asked the scientist if he knew where they were and could he find the way home from this point?
“Surely,” Likteek replied. “The scents are more familiar. The repeaters’ voices are strong. Just home on that. Why do you ask?”
Chase had struggled with how to say this. Great leaders like the Kel’metah weren’t supposed to desert the people in their hour of need. It was cowardice. Fear. No backbone. Weak knees. Whatever…he could even hear his Dad’s accusing voice in the back of his head…can’t I count on you for anything, Chase…but Chase knew this was something he had to do.
“I’m dropping you off here, Lik.”
“Here…why? We have another day’s ride to reach—”
“I know. I know. But I have to go home. Scotland Beach, if I can find it. I have to see Angie. I don’t know if I can find my way. But, Lik, I have to try.”
Likteek pulsed him deeply and saw the sadness, the longing that Chase could never hide, not even from himself. He knew it was truth he was pulsing. There was nothing he could say that would change Chase’ mind, so he didn’t try. Kel’metah always kept his own council. It was written in the ancient scents.
“How long will you be gone? The people need you, Kel’metah Chase.”
“Don’t call me that. After what Loptoheen did, I don’t deserve it. The people should elect somebody else. I’m not the right person. I resign.”
“Such is not possible. You know this…you have the blood of all the metahs in you now. Leadership is not a choice for you. It is ak’loosh, destiny, like the great wave. You cannot hide from this, Kel’metah Chase.”
“Yeah, I know. You’re probably right. But I have to do this.”
He brought the kip’t to a rest atop a small fold in the seabed, a bare and spartan plateau surrounded by ridges and mountains along the mid-Atlantic rift. Reluctantly, Likteek got out, insisting that he would follow the repeater songs, that he would be okay. Chase felt overwhelmingly sad, like he was abandoning a favorite dog.
But he had to do this.
“I know I can’t forget the tu’kelke, Likteek. For better or worse, I’m one of you, even if I’m not really. Hell, I don’t know what I am. All I know is I want to see Angie, eekoti Angie.”
“Ah, this longing…I pulse now the reason,” the scientist said. “Ke’shoo and ke’lee are in your blood, Kel’metah Chase, though you deny it…it’s there and stronger than ever. You are becoming more and more Seomish every day.”
“Yeah, that’s what worries me…love and life.”
They said goodbye and Likteek disappeared, homing resolutely in the faint harmonics and rhythm of the repeaters’ songs. Like a beacon, Chase was fairly sure they would guide the old researcher back to familiar waters… back to Keenomsh’pont.
He didn’t want to think of the alternative…Likteek circling endlessly in the trackless mid-Atlantic, lost, dazed, confused.
No, that would not happen. It couldn’t happen.
He powered up the jets and settled onto a course he had mapped out in his mind, developing the details as they returned from the South China Sea. Chase knew that all kip’ts had powerful, sensitive sniffers and sonar systems. If he worked them carefully enough, he figured he could probably home on the burbling and friction of the distant Gulf Stream. And once he’d found that, he could track along the edges, opposite to the current and eventually make his way to the Gulf of Mexico.
And after that, it was a straight shot to Scotland Beach, Half Moon Cove, Turtle Key and home.
He hoped.
Scotland Beach, Florida
July 20, 2115
Midnight
They had agreed to meet at Shelley Beach, around midnight. Finding Angie had been hard, much harder than Chase expected and for a while, he was worried, really worried. The last time they had met, Chase gave her a signaler he had taken from the remaining devices in Likteek’s lab…there were only a few. He showed her how it worked.
“I’ll activate it when I’m near. When it goes off, be at Shelley Beach, if you can. Maybe an hour later.”
“This is so cool,” Angie remarked. “We’re like spies or something.”
That had been a month ago.
Now it was dark and mostly deserted along the beach when Chase cautiously poked his head above the waves. He didn’t see anybody but this time of year, summer…tourist season…vacations…couples humping under blankets…late-night beach walks…you never knew what you might find.
He felt a pressure wave wash against him and stepped aside just as a large mother sea turtle surfaced and scrambled up through the loose white sand to lay her eggs, mooing softly.
He didn’t see anybody at all but the lights of the town were still bright—probably a circus or carnival going on late, down by Apalachee Beach Park. The lighthouse by the Coast Guard station still strobed its warning out to sea in rhythmic pulses.
But no Angie.
Maybe she hadn’t seen the signaler. Maybe it didn’t work.
He was about to head down to the waves, gently lapping onto the shore, when he heard something and stopped. A whistle. A cough. Someone clearing their throat. He squinted through the town lights and then saw a shadow, moving cautiously down from the sea wall, moving toward him.
“Chase…Chase…is that you--?”
“Angie!” He stumbled and scrambled toward her and they stopped several feet apart, wanting to hug but separated by the barrier that was Chase’s appearance. Angie wore shorts, a T-shirt and sandals. Her hair a slight reddish tint Chase hadn’t seen before. But those legs…those track star legs…it was Angie, for sure.
“I thought you didn’t get the message.” Chase said. He reached out a hand and Angie didn’t flinch when he touched her hand. For a brief moment—
“I almost didn’t. Oh, Chase…I was headed to the hospital—Sheila went to get the car and I heard it. Chase, there’s been so much to—”
“Shhh!” He thought he heard footsteps, soft voices, and grabbed Angie by the arm. “Someone’s coming…let’s go out.” He pulled and she relented and they waded out into the waves, low waves, the temperature of bath water, typical summertime Gulf waves.
They went out up to their waist, watched the couple stroll by, paying them no attention, and stayed there, rocking gently in the surf.
He looked at her, all inhibitions about touching now gone. “God, it’s good to see you.”
Angie had already started crying softly. She did that a lot lately. “Chase, they questioned me. They took me to Washington.”
“Who questioned you?”
“The police. The FBI.” She related the entire affair, almost day by day. “They said I knew about the sea people, the Seomish. They said I knew where you were. They’re convinced the sea people are a threat. Chase, it was terrible…I was in a hotel…they wouldn’t let me leave…said I could be prosecuted. They talked about Russians…national security…they think the Seomish—and you—and working for the Russians.”
This made Chase mad. “Assholes. Did they torture you?”
Angie sobbed. “No, stupid. It’s not
like a vid show, you know. But they questioned me a lot. It was bad enough. They wanted me to find you.”
“Did you tell them anything?”
“What could I tell them? I don’t know anything. They already knew about when we met with the Navy. But now…there are so many sea people. People are scared. Suspicious. Chase, I think they may be planning something…some kind of attack.” Unbidden, she fell into his arms, no longer caring about his scaly, armor-like skin.
Chase wanted to hug her but he was mindful of the way he looked and felt to her, even in complete darkness at midnight, and grabbed her by the shoulders instead. “Angie, we’ve got to be smart about this.” He told her about being elected Kel’metah and what that meant, most of which he didn’t really understand. “Angie, it’s like I’m a governor or something. Or a king, even. I didn’t want it. But the metah said I was perfect for the job. It was because I’m not like them, but still partly like them, that I was perfect. Angie, they’re just like us. They fight. They don’t trust each other. But they’re scared. They feel all alone. I tried to convince them they needed to stick together…try to work with humans. If they don’t, it’s not going to end well. We humans are afraid of what we don’t understand. Afraid of others who are different. And the Seomish are really different. They’re afraid too. Neither side can talk to each other.”
Angie buried her face into the tough hide of his shoulder. Her voice was muffled, but clear enough. “Chase, how did you…and me…get involved in this? And you’re saying we’re somehow going to go to their world, their planet? How can that be if it was destroyed?”
“I don’t understand it myself. It’s the Farpool. It’s a gateway. A time machine. I came back to a time before we first went to Seome. That trip’s still coming…soon in fact. But the Seomish, the metah, Likteek, all my friends, they came to Earth—through the Farpool—from a later time…after their sun went belly up.”
“Well, at least that clears that up,” Angie lied. She shook her head and looked up at the spade-shaped head and frog’s face that was her boyfriend. “Chase, I don’t know about all this Farpool and Seome and stuff. I barely know you. One minute, we’re in Mr. Winan’s class trying to do Venn diagrams and the next moment, we’re caught up in some kind of intergalactic plot. Some days, I think this is just a vid I’ve fallen into and I’ll wake up and be little ol’ Angie Gilliam again and I’ll have track practice, and homework, and volunteer at the hospital and all that normal stuff. But then when the FBI takes me to Washington and sticks me in a hotel room and asks me about a bazillion questions that I can’t answer, I know it’s not a vid show…it’s real.” She squeezed his shoulders. “And I’m scared.”
“Me too.” Guys weren’t supposed to say things like that, but he did it anyway. He’d always tried to be truthful, more or less, with Angie.
“Chase, do you and I really have a future…together, I mean? I don’t know about—“now she pulled out of his arms and wrapped her own arms around her shoulders, letting the tepid waves slap up against her chest, aware of how her T-shirt now clung and showed everything, but not really caring..”—about all this anymore. Look at you…I mean you look like a bad sci-fi movie. But I know it’s real and not makeup…that’s what scares me. I don’t understand any of this.”
“I don’t either, Ang and that’s the truth. I have a lot of friends among the Seomish. And they need me. I know that. Now, that they’re here, they really need me a lot. It’s…I don’t know…it’s like I’ve become somebody. I’m not just Chase Meyer, beach bum, anymore. That’s what Dad thinks. He looks at me and sees a T-shirt shop flunkie. Maybe a dive partner, once in awhile. But basically a beach bum. When I look at me, I used to see that too. But now I see more and I’m not just talking about this—” he patted his scaly, armored skin, “—I’m talking about being Kel’metah. Kind of like being an ambassador. A go-between. Now, I’ve got something important to do…I am somebody important, at least to Likteek and Tulcheah and Manklu and the Metah and all the rest. The Seomish came to Earth as refugees and they need someone who’s knows the terrain. And that’s me. Remember when we studied Lewis and Clark and all their exploring? They had that Indian girl as a scout—”
“Yeah, I do remember that…Sacajawea something or other. I also remember how you kept passing notes to Becky Malone too…you two were exploring all right but it wasn’t the North American wilderness.”
“Never mind that. But don’t you see, now that I’m somebody other than a beach bum, somebody important, at least to the Seomish---it’s like I can’t really go back.”
“Chase, you’re not Seomish.”
“I know. But I’m not really human either. Don’t you see that? I’m in between. A half-breed or something.”
Now, Angie pulled away completely and began making her way to shallower water, letting the waves slap against her. She wiped hair out of her eyes…it was a mess now and she’d have to do something about that before her next shift at the hospital.
“Chase, I’ll be honest. We need to be honest with each other. I’m not too keen on being mixed up in all this ‘marine civilization’ or sea people thing. I want my old life back. I want to go to track meets with Gwen and the others and beat Winter Valley High for once. I want to graduate from school. I want to be a nurse…or maybe something more, if we can afford it, which we can’t. I’ve got plans. A life to lead. I’d—" she turned back, standing now in knee-deep waves, kicking at the water, “—I’d like to think…I used to think…that life included you. Now—” she looked down at the swirling water, “—now, I’m not so sure.”
Chase stumbled and thrashed after her. “What are you saying?”
“Just this: I want you to look into going back through this em--…em…--”
“Em’took?”
“Yeah…that. This procedure. This modification whatever…that made you look like—” she fumbled for the right words, “—like a frog on steroids. You said it could be reversed. You even said I did it once… but that was in the future. If that’s true…or was true…or will be true…that means you can do it too. I want you to do that. Chase—“she held out a hand and he grabbed it and for once, the slimy, scaly yucky thing didn’t feel so bad, “—Chase, I just want you back. The old Chase I used to know.”
He didn’t say anything because…what was there to say? Angie had made her wishes known, known perfectly clear.
Chase agreed to look into the possibility, but not knowing how hard he would really look. It was all so complicated. He wasn’t sure what he really wanted. Just like Dad always said…you’ll be a beach bum forever because that keeps you from having to make a decision.
Maybe Mack Meyer was right, after all. Chase smiled inwardly. The older he got, the smarter his own Dad seemed to be.
“Angie—”
“Chase—”
They kissed, sort of, gently, lip to lip. For Angie, who closed her eyes and tried to think of something else, it was like kissing a wicker basket. They held hands, sort of, though that was better, like squeezing the claw end of a hammer. Then they separated. Chase turned about, looked back and said, “Pay attention to your signaler, Cookie.” He knew she hated that. He always liked to tease her about her face reminding him of a chocolate swirl cookie.
“Get rid of that skin problem, Flip,” she called back, teasing him back. His friends had long called him that, in reference to the obvious fact that he could swim like a dolphin, including a famous one from past vid shows.
Chase took one last look at the girl who’d finally been able to explain Venn diagrams to him, then dove headlong into an oncoming wave and was gone.
Angie sloshed her way back up onto the beach, muttered something unintelligible to a couple sauntering by, and climbed the sea wall. Sheila’s car, the one she had supposedly borrowed for a run down to the convenience store, was right where she’d left it.
She climbed in and sped off back to Gainesville and the Coconut Cabana apartments. She winced at the sight of her face and hai
r in the rear-view mirror and decided to spend the time the drive would take letting the auto system operate the vehicle itself, along Gainesville Highway to the apartment.
She figured she could somehow make something presentable out of that hair if she just had enough time. If Sheila saw her like this, there’d be no end of questions for the rest of the night and nobody would get any sleep.
Not that she was likely to nod off anyway, not after what had happened tonight.
Chapter 7
Seomish settlement Keenomsh’pont
Near Bermuda and the Muir Seamount
July 21, 2115
0430 hours
For Lieutenant Commander Rick Gage, the nickname ‘Barracudas’ seemed singularly appropriate for the baddest kickass special ops team in the whole Navy UWAT family. UWAT 3—Underwater Assault Team 3—had won every challenge and marksmanship and underwater combat drill this side of Jupiter for the last several years and, as C/O and mother hen to these magnificent bastards, Rick Gage was prouder than a first-time mother of all of his men and women. When word had come down from Fleet, with detailed orders following, that UWAT 3 had been chosen lead and tip-of-the-spear for a special ops assault on the Sea Peoples’ underwater base north of Bermuda, Gage was both proud enough to burst his buttons and a little sobered by the magnitude of what lay ahead, what they were ultimately facing.
And now, H-hour was only a few minutes away.
There were two UWAT teams, UWAT 3 and UWAT 4, also known as the Tigersharks. The plan was simple enough to describe. The assault teams would travel from their mother ship, the fast-attack U.S.S. Oregon to a position about a mile south west of the Sea Peoples’ settlement. Two mini-subs would be discharged, Felix One and Felix Two, each bearing the nine members of their respective teams. Felix One would approach from the south, along a vector that allowed them maximum cover until the last moment. Felix Two would approach from the north, from the other side of the Muir seamount.
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