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“The same thing happened to me. In the aquarium, right before I met you in the go-cart bay.” Armin’s voice was soft, uncertain, like he wasn’t sure Mo would believe him. “I saw a mermaid outside. It looked at me, and . . .” He shook his head. His forehead furrowed. “I felt as though it could hear me. My thoughts. Its eyes glowed, like . . .”
“Like the one in this video,” Mo finished for him.
Armin nodded, the movement slow, dreamlike. “It happened before too. The mermaid looking at me with its glowing eyes, as if it knew what I was thinking. After you and I were . . . together. In the aquarium.”
Mo’s heart lurched. “I remember. It was watching us.”
Armin drew in a long, ragged breath, turned his head, and stared at the hollow of Mo’s throat as if it held the answers to all his questions. “Was it real, Mo? Any of it? All the people in the bar, the way you and I danced, making love in the aquarium? Because it all felt so surreal to me, yet you remember at least that part, so I can’t have imagined all of it.”
The memory of Armin’s cry when he came, ecstasy threaded with pain, set Mo’s heart thumping. He ran a hand up Armin’s side. “It was real. And, fuck, it was incredible.”
Armin let out a faint, surprised laugh. Mo pulled him close to kiss him. “There wasn’t anyone in the bar but you and me, though. What did you mean about all the people?”
“I was afraid of that.” Armin’s eyelids swept down and up again in slow motion. “I saw a bar packed with people, all dancing.”
Mo stared at him. “So we both saw different things.”
“It seems so, yes.” Armin laid a hand on Mo’s thigh, kneading the muscle as if the motion comforted him. “That bothers me. We both experienced the same event, but in different ways. I don’t understand why.”
Mo had a theory, and he figured Armin had the same theory, even if he wasn’t saying it. “Do you think it has anything to do with the brain growth?”
Armin breathed. In and out, in and out. “I’m very afraid it might. Yes.”
Silence fell. Mo grasped Armin’s hip and clung. He felt as if the world had tilted beneath him. The parallels between this damned contagion and the glowy-eyed mermaids seemed obvious. How could it possibly be a coincidence? Especially since he’d been led out there to that chasm on purpose, to see the congregation of mermaids and the weird place in the depths where the eye couldn’t focus.
The big question was, what did it all mean? How did those things come together to form an answer to what was happening here? Because, damn it, they had to.
“Those damned mermaids are involved in this whole thing somehow.” Mo reached up to touch Armin’s face, stroking the rough salt-and-pepper stubble shadowing his jaw. “I don’t know how, or why. But they are.”
“There’s no direct evidence of that. But I think you’re probably right. The glowing eyes . . .” Armin sighed. Raked gentle fingers through Mo’s hair. “I’m going to com Mandala in the med bay.”
“Okay.” Now that he thought about it . . . “I'm surprised she hasn't already commed to yell at you.”
The guilty set of Armin's features answered for him before he said anything. “She did, actually. While I was trying to get you to come around in the go-cart bay. I told her I was looking after you and to please cover for me.”
“Oh.” Mo thought about that. “She’s gonna be so pissed off at you.”
“Indeed. But it doesn’t matter. You need medical care. You also need to get your scan. Then we need to show Mandala and Dr. Youssouf this video, and work out a plan for retrieving the body. I believe that’s the first step in answering the questions posed by your video, especially when it comes to the mermaids and this chasm.”
“Yeah. We’ll do all of that.”
Armin cast him a puzzled sidelong glance, but didn’t comment on how disconnected Mo sounded. And Mo knew he did. Hell, he felt it. Felt like he was drifting away from the world he knew into someplace different. Better? Worse? He couldn’t say. But he was helpless to stop it.
While Armin got yelled at by Dr. Jhut on the com link, Mo slow-moed through the vid again and stopped it at the edge of the pit. He raised the magnification higher. Zoomed until he saw nothing but the dark-lit depths. Stared and stared and stared until his eyes dried out and blinking hurt.
Far down, so deep it must be the Earth’s core—or maybe another universe—the purplish-blue space twisted and writhed like a warning. Or an invitation.
Jem came to fetch them back to the med bay. Her mouth fell open when she saw Mo’s face. “Jesus Christ, what happened to you?”
Armin, the useless rat, just crossed his arms and studied the floor. Mo sighed. “Daisy. Don’t ask.”
Jem shuddered. “I won’t. Ew.” She raised her weapon to the ceiling. “Now if you gents are ready, we’ll get going.”
She stepped out the door. Once she’d declared the way clear, she led Mo and Armin along the gloomy halls toward medical. “Everybody’s there now. Youssouf’s finishing up the scans since Dr. Jhut’s busy analyzing those crazy brain tumors.”
Surprised, Mo raised his eyebrows at Armin. “Didn’t you guys already do that in autopsy?”
“Only in a limited way. We hadn’t gotten around to full microscopic analysis.” Armin rubbed his arms as if he was cold. “Do you know if Mandala’s learned anything yet?”
Jem shrugged. “If she has, I don’t know about it.”
Silence fell. Jem marched along with her usual purposeful stride. Armin followed, clearly lost in his thoughts. Mo trailed behind the two of them and tried to ignore the lead weights dragging at his limbs.
“You’re in trouble,” Youssouf told Armin the second the three of them shoved aside the crash cart and filed through the crookedly half-shut med bay doors.
Armin’s shoulders slumped. “I know. Mandala had some choice words for me. Not that I didn’t deserve it, of course.” He sighed, looking glum. “Is she too angry to speak to me?”
“You should know better than that.” Dr. Jhut walked in from the autopsy room. She peeled off her work gloves and tossed them in the trash and peered at Mo with interest. “How on Earth did you manage to get a tarantula rash on your face, Mr. Rees?”
Mo’s face flamed under the sudden scrutiny of not only Dr. Jhut, but Youssouf, Rashmi, and Ling. Damn it. “Long story.”
Armin spoke before Youssouf could say anything. “It doesn’t matter. I gave him antivenom and treated the rash and bites. The point is, he was out in Richards Deep.”
Youssouf gaped. “You were what? Rees, for fuck’s sake—”
“And,” Armin plowed on, ignoring her, “he returned with video you need to see. There’s a body out there.”
The room went silent. Mo swallowed the urge to laugh. Armin did have a flair for the dramatic.
“A body.” Youssouf stalked closer, until she was toe-to-toe with Mo. “Explain.”
Mo held her grim gaze and fought the urge to fidget. When she spoke in that soft, measured tone, you knew you were in deep shit. “Yeah. Yes, ma’am. Well. That is, there’s a walker suit on the other side of the chasm, and since you can’t even open the suit without getting killed by the pressure right away . . .”
“Yeah, I know. You don’t have to paint me a picture.” Youssouf turned around and trudged back to the scanner. “Okay. First things first. Rees, let’s get your scan out of the way so we’ll know which side of the fence you’re on. After that, I’ll continue the scans while the two of you show Mandala your video.”
“Oh.” Armin blinked at the floor. Rubbed his neck. “Should she be exposed to me?”
Youssouf pffted. “We’re all exposed to you right now, and have been for days, yet we don’t have the growths. Crazy as it sounds, I think we’re on the right track as far as it being passed on through light waves via eye contact only once the eyes begin to glow.”
It did sound crazy. Impossible, for that matter.
It also sounded right.
Mo thought of the blue-bl
ack shine in Hannah’s eyes and wondered how many people she might have infected, including him.
Youssouf beckoned him over. “Come on, Mo. Let’s get this done.”
He went. Putting it off wouldn’t help. But it was like going to his execution because he knew what Youssouf would see.
Sure enough, when the machine chimed to tell him it was finished scanning and the image came up in glorious, irrefutable 3-D, Youssouf cursed and Armin turned away, arms crossed tight like he was literally holding himself together.
Mo rose from the scanner couch, his gaze fixed on the floor. When he was thirteen, he used to wish he could kill people with a look. Now, he’d rather not.
“Doesn’t change anything.” He went to Armin, pried his fingers loose from his upper arms, and took his hand. “Come on.”
For the first time since Mo came to in the go-cart bay, Armin looked straight into his eyes. The fear and guilt there threatened to brim over and drown the world. Or at least the two of them, trapped by the aliens in their heads.
Mo forced a smile to keep the flood at bay. “It’ll work out, Doc. You’ll see.”
Armin’s anemic answering smile felt like a reward. “I hope you’re right.”
Mandala watched the entire video once, then repeated the pertinent portion at regular speed, and again in extreme slow motion. Armin chafed through it all, but said nothing. She had a sharp eye and a sharper mind. They could spare a few minutes to keep from missing anything important.
Finally, she halted the vid and sat back in her chair, studying the 3-D still with a frown.
“So?” Mo said when Mandala neglected to offer immediate feedback. “What do you think?”
She tapped a finger on her chin. “There’s something not right about that suit.”
Armin peered at the display again, more closely this time. The suit lay there just as it had before, a pale-gray sliver of humanity in the vast, cold emptiness of the deep. It looked lonely and forlorn.
“It’s not right for it to be there at all.” Nor was it coincidental, he suspected, though he didn’t say so.
She wrinkled her nose. “You know that’s not what I mean.”
Mo narrowed his eyes at the display. “Damn it. I wish I could’ve gotten closer before. And if I magnify this any more I’m gonna lose resolution.”
“It’s just . . . something.” Mandala sighed in clear irritation. “I simply can’t put my finger on it.” She tilted her head sideways. “Are any of the BathyTech suits missing?”
Mo shook his head. “Rashmi checked. They’re all there. Which is weird, because where else would a walker suit have come from?”
“Of course, that also means it definitely can’t be Ashlyn.” Armin swiveled in his chair, glancing around the room as if she might emerge from a corner and laugh at him for being frightened. “Which means she must be on this pod somewhere. We simply have to find her.” He knew he sounded stubborn and rather desperate, but he couldn’t let himself give up on finding Ashlyn alive. He’d brought her here. It was his fault she was out there, mutilated and in need of help.
Mandala shot him a worried glance. “And yet we haven’t been able to, no matter where we’ve looked, or how often. I can’t imagine where she could be hiding, or why she would hide from us. I would say she’s gotten out somehow, but I can’t see how, when all the walker suits and go-carts are accounted for and her body is not lying below the moon pool or the airlocks. It simply doesn’t make any sense. It’s like she’s vanished into thin air.”
A heavy, brooding quiet descended on their little group. Armin hunched forward and rubbed his aching head. God, what he wouldn’t give to go back in time, take his hard-won knowledge—such as it was—and redo everything that had happened since that first call from Dr. Longenesse. Maybe then the people on the Varredura Longa and here on BathyTech would still be alive. Maybe Neil and Carlo would still be alive. Maybe Mo wouldn’t be infected. Maybe Ashlyn would be safe and whole.
Mo slid an arm around Armin’s waist. He said nothing, but the warmth of his body and the back-and-forth rub of his thumb on Armin’s hip were soothing. Armin leaned into him, grateful for his closeness, for his touch that offered support without words.
After a few silent moments, Armin rose and stretched until the blood thumped in his ears. “Well. We know the only way to solve this mystery is to go fetch the body, yes? So let’s debrief Dr. Youssouf and work out a plan.”
Mandala didn’t budge. Neither did the bearing of fierce thought set into every line of her body. “Where does this chasm go?”
“What do you mean, where does it go?” Confused, Armin reached into the 3-D and moved it to show the ravine in question. “Where can it go? Deeper, that’s all.”
To Armin’s surprise, Mo hummed in clear sympathy with Mandala. “I thought the same thing. There’s a . . .” He squinted at the ceiling, one hand circling in the air as if attempting to conjure the word he wanted. “I don’t know. Not a light. But kind of a light. Like it leads someplace it ought not to. You know?”
“Yes. I do.” Mandala swiveled and pinned Mo with a direct stare, which he barely managed to avoid. Armin wanted to scold her, but didn’t, since she was obviously going somewhere with this. “This area is unexplored? No one has been here before? You’re certain?”
“Yeah. Well . . .” Mo gestured at the body on the ledge—which said it all, really. “But, yeah. There hasn’t been any documented exploration of that area. Not counting whoever that is.”
“Hm.” Mandala turned her attention back to the frozen underwater display and tapped her chin again. “I have a very strange feeling about this whole thing.”
“You and me both, Doc.” Mo stood. His chair, sans wheels, scraped across the floor with a cringeworthy squeal. “I guess we ought to run this by Youssouf now. No point in twiddling our thumbs any longer, right?”
“Right. The sooner we get this settled, the sooner I can get back to my analysis of the brain lesions.” Mandala brushed her fingertips along Armin’s wrist without looking at him. “You two stay here. I’ll get Dr. Youssouf.”
Too restless to sit back down, Armin paced while Mandala left the little semienclosed alcove where the three of them had been huddled together for the last hour or so. Mo watched him for a moment, then came to him and gathered him in a tight embrace, one hand in his hair and the other splayed between his shoulder blades. Armin shut his eyes and let Mo’s comforting warmth sink through his skin, wordlessly telling him everything would be all right.
For a moment, he almost believed it.
There was no real question over whether they should retrieve the body on the ledge. The problem, according to Dr. Youssouf, lay in who ought to go.
“Nothing against the two of you.” She indicated Armin and Mo where they sat side by side on the desk in Gerald Palto’s cramped office, the only truly private place to talk in the med bay. “But I don’t want infected people working with uninfected on this. It’s easy enough to avoid eye contact here in the med bay, or in the lab. Out there, the risk is way too high. When you’re in a walker, you need all your concentration on the job at hand. Trying not to look your coworkers in the eye is nothing but a distraction.”
Armin kept his agreement to himself. He’d realized immediately that he had very little say in the outcome of this particular argument. It was between Youssouf, Mo, and Jemima.
Mo sighed, his frustration plastered all over his face. “Who’s gonna walk, then? You?”
She bristled. “It’s been a while, but I used to walk every goddamn day just like you, hot shot.”
“The operative phrase there being used to.” Mo stared down at his hands, clenched together in his lap. “When’s the last time you walked? Five years ago? The tech’s changed. You know that. Everything’s different now. It would take at least a couple of hours to bring you up to speed enough to be safe out there at all, and you’d still need a trainer with you at all times for a few days. You know we don’t have that kind of time.”
“Well. Me.”
Youssouf groaned. “Are you serious?”
Jemima stuck her hands in her back pockets. “Yeah. Everybody but me, Rashmi and a couple of others have positive scans. And of course Rashmi, Hawk, and me are all on security, what with all the changed people who’ve had to be locked up, and Sully’s got a broken ankle ’cause somebody from science who’d changed attacked her.”
Armin glanced from Jemima to Youssouf, remembering at the last moment not to meet their eyes. “How many are infected now?”
“Seventeen staff have scanned positive for growths.” Youssouf tapped a fingertip against the desk, her face grim. “All but four of them have shown changes already. Everyone who’s changed is in a makeshift lockup, since this pod doesn’t have the capability to force confinement to quarters by locking people in.”
“Shit.” Mo hunched forward. Shock leeched the color from his face, turning his skin an unhealthy grayish brown. Armin slipped an arm around his waist, offering what little comfort he could.
“Rashmi’s helping Ling guard the med bay. Hawk’s guarding lockup.” Jemima glanced at Youssouf. “There’s nobody else left who can walk. I suppose you could pull someone off security, but I really don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Mo leaned against Armin. Fine tremors ran through his body, but his voice was steady. “Youssouf. Let me and Armin retrieve the body. We both have the growths, so we’re not any danger to each other. Jem can drive the cart. We can stay in the back, so we won’t be a danger to her either.”
A muscle jumped in Youssouf’s jaw. “And if you start to change out there? What then?”
“It’s possible that they might,” said Mandala, speaking up for the first time during this debate. “But if you want to be absolutely practical about it from the standpoint of general safety of the BathyTech pod, if they are going to change, the best place for them to do it would be with the two of them out in their walker suits away from the rest of us. Correct?”