Emerald Sea tcw-2

by John Ringo

  “Probably, from what I can see. Grouper and big hogfish. Hogfish is good eating; I wish we could get them to bring a few back alive.”

  “Permission to go over the side, sir?” Herzer asked. “I’m sorry, but the water looks awfully inviting.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  After jockeying his ship back and forth the skipper had dropped the anchor and the Richard now floated in the current. Most of the riders were back on board. The few who were not were holding onto a rope let out over the stern.

  “Come below,” Talbot said after a moment’s thought. “Do you think you can hold onto one of the dragons in the water?”

  “I’m not sure,” Herzer admitted. “And I know I can’t hold my breath for as long as they do.”

  “Well, I’ll show you something for that.”

  Talbot led him to his cabin and opened the box from Sheida. He took from it a rolled up plastic bag and shook it out.

  “This is a swimming mask,” he said, putting it over his face. The plastic immediately shrunk so that he should have been strangling, but he continued to talk and breathe, albeit with a muffled tone. “It brings oxygen from the water to you, filters out carbon dioxide and exits it when you breathe. When you’re underwater it converts your words to mer code speech and will translate it for you as well as the delphino language. The important thing to know is don’t hold your breath,” he continued, stripping the bag off.

  “When you’re coming up your lungs will expand from the pressure drop and if you hold your breath you’ll blow out your lungs. Just breathe naturally.”

  Herzer took the bag somewhat reluctantly and slipped it over his head. It was an unnatural feeling as it smoothed down but he noticed right away that he could breathe normally.

  “How long will it last?” he asked, pulling it back off.

  “It’s charged for sixteen hours,” Edmund replied, pointing at an almost unnoticeable dot of dark plastic on the edge. “But it can recharge from the Net, slowly. And if you’re underwater when it runs out of charge it has a high priority for power. You won’t run out. And if you do, you just swim up to the surface and head for land; the mer tend to spend their time near the shore. The other reason that’s important is that what you’re breathing is nearly pure oxygen. If you go too deep, oxygen becomes toxic. Don’t go extremely deep.”

  “Okay,” Herzer said. “Let’s try it.”

  “One last thing,” Edmund added, pulling a small block of plastic from the bottom of the box. He thumbed it and it sprang into the shape of a pair of fins. “Some purists still used these before the Fall; they’re swimming fins. Kick your legs in a scissor motion. They’ll help with the current.”

  Herzer went to his cabin and changed, aware that he’d hardly seen Rachel over the last few days, then headed up to the deck, holding the mask and fins. He put both on and dove over the side.

  As advertised he had no more trouble breathing in the surprisingly warm water than in the air. He took some rapid breaths and found that the mask hardly interfered at all. Given that oxygen in the water was far too disperse for him simply to be sucking it in, he wasn’t sure what the mask was doing, but it worked. He had drifted backwards in the current and he quickly kicked his way over to the rope. He could see the dragons hunting below him quite clearly and picked out the shape of Chauncey.

  He surfaced and grinned at Vickie who was eyeing him askance.

  “Blood Lords are always prepared,” he said.

  “Yeah, I can see that,” she grumbled.

  “I’m going to down and try to catch Chauncey, any suggestions?”

  “Yeah, don’t try to ride a dragon bareback,” Koo replied. “But if you do, you can probably hang on to his neck. It’s the best bet.”

  Herzer looked down again and watched the dragons for a moment before heading out. The wyverns had their wings half folded into a v and they were moving quite fast through the water with short, powerful strokes. They were fast enough that it was clear the reef fish stood little chance unless they made it into shelter. The dragons would hunt for a couple of minutes then ascend to the surface, blowing hard.

  He waited until Chauncey surfaced to the rear of the ship and kicked towards him rapidly.

  “Ho, Chaunce,” he said as he approached the floating dragon. He wanted the wyvern well aware that it was a rider approaching and not lunch. They both were being carried in the current and it was relatively easy to approach from the front. He grabbed at the wing-root so he wouldn’t be carried past, then slithered onto the back of the beast.

  Chauncey didn’t seem to mind but Herzer quickly found that dragon skin was slippery when wet. He had just managed to get his arms around the wyvern’s massive neck when it submerged.

  The dragon went almost straight down through the pellucid water, headed for a shadow that was lounging under a ledge.

  Herzer suddenly felt a sharp pain in his ears and shook his head, yawning, as they “popped” painfully. He grabbed his nose, half instinctively, and blew against the obstruction, relieving the pressure and popping them again. He blew one more time to be sure, then looked around at the sea-bottom, which was coming up fast.

  The bottom was sand with broken coral heads, and the big fish, maybe one of those grouper that Duke Edmund had mentioned, was using the coral for cover. As the shadow of the wyvern swept over it, however, it took off, a brown and gray streak, headed across the sand for another ledge.

  Chauncey turned to follow and Herzer was nearly ripped from his perch as the dragon pumped its wings through the dense water. Clearly the reef fish was the faster but Donal suddenly stooped down upon it and it turned desperately to the side. Chauncey made another radical turn to the right and the fish reversed again, but not in time as the wyvern’s head darted down and snapped onto the body of the man-sized fish.

  The water was clear and the sun high above was shining down so that the sand positively glittered, but Herzer was amazed to see that the blood that flowed from the fish, was bright, emerald green, like new leaves or growing grass after a spring rain. There was a lot of it, as well. It always amazed him the quantity of blood that a being could hold.

  The fish had been swimming into the Stream and for just a moment the sea around him turned to the same bright, emerald hue. He was so surprised that he nearly lost his grip again. But the wyvern hungrily finished off the fish, brilliantly colored scavenger fish darting out from the reef to get the dropped morsels, and headed off on another hunt.

  Herzer had never been into underwater sports so he was amazed by the sights around him. The shadow of the ship overhead was blue as was the deeper water to the west. The dragons passing in every direction were unreal and amazing, their wings tucked in and “flying” against the current as they hunted over the reef. The water was so clear it seemed that he could see for miles but he realized that the visibility was no more than seventy meters or so, as Shep kept drifting in and out of sight in the distance.

  Sharks had started to gather to the feeding frenzy of the dragons and he was a bit worried by that. The wyverns might be able to survive an attack by the much smaller sharks, but if they thought they were prey it would be an ugly encounter. The sharks avoided the dragons, though, perhaps recognizing through some instinct or survival coding ancient beyond belief that the dinosaurlike flying creatures were deadly fellow predators. And the dragons ignored the sharks, in turn.

  The exception was Joanna. Chauncey was beating madly after one of the reef fish again, this one no larger than Herzer’s thigh, when he saw the great dragon emerge from the gloom to the east and close on one of the medium-sized sharks. A dart of her head on its long neck and the shark was neatly bitten in two, the tail and head continuing to quiver as they drifted for the bottom. Other sharks closed around the remnants and her head darted in again to take one of the smaller ones whole. One of the sharks turned to bite at her but its teeth bounced off her folded wings as her neck turned all the way around and did to the shark what it had been unable to do to her.
Apparently satisfied, she sculled back towards the ship, giving a special flip of her tail in the direction of what had once been the most dangerous predator in the sea.

  Herzer had released Chauncey to watch the by-play and he suddenly realized that he was not one of the most dangerous predators in the sea as a group of sharks moved towards him. He wasn’t sure what kind they were, except that they were big and brown and the most “traditional” sharp shape he had ever seen. And they apparently considered him a potential meal. With the exception of his belt-knife, he was entirely unarmed and not sure whether to head for the surface or the bottom. The sharks were between him and the ship, so heading for that was out.

  He turned to the side and dove for the bottom just as one of the bigger sharks darted forward. He managed to deflect it with a well timed blow on its snout, to which the shark reacted by turning and swimming rapidly away, then to the side to circle. The punch had not been without damage to Herzer, however, as the skin on his knuckles had all been ripped off by the sandpapery skin. He kicked towards another, which took that as an opportunity to grab his fin.

  The fin was of almost indestructible plastic but the same could not be said of Herzer. The shark reacted to the bite by trying to rip off a bit of flesh, shaking its head rapidly and powerfully back and forth. Herzer found himself being tossed like a rat held by a terrier and distinctly felt something in his ankle pop. After it was clear that nothing was going to come off the shark released him but by this time the first one had circled around and was coming in for another run at more vulnerable parts.

  Just as it was about to reach him there was a blue shadow over it and Chauncey bit it just behind the head. She wasn’t as large as Joanna but her jaws could spread almost like a snake’s and the powerful jaw muscles cut through tough skin, bony cartilage and flesh, leaving the head attached to the tail only by a narrow strip of skin.

  The water around Herzer was suddenly filled with wings and green blood as the wyverns reacted to the threat, and meal, of the gathered shark frenzy, snapping in every direction. The sharks tended to head for extremities, biting at the wyvern’s wings. But, to their dismay, they were just as impossible to pierce as Joanna’s and the wyverns reacted by dragging the wings over to their mouths and having little clingy shark snacks.

  Herzer decided that the best thing to do was head for the bottom, like any good reef fish, and watch the battle royale from the safety of a ledge. There were seven sharks that considered the dragons fair game, but the five wyverns had killed four of them before Joanna made her reappearance. She, in turn, killed two more and the last was finished off by Donal, who nearly swallowed the relatively small shark whole.

  As soon as the last of the sharks were nothing but bits drifting to the floor, Herzer pushed off from his ledge and headed up to the group, favoring his leg and doing most of the work with his right hand. The dragons, however, headed for the surface even faster and there was no way to keep up with them. As he was ascending he considered what Edmund had said and breathed normally. He did notice that he tended to seem to breathe out more air than he took in on the way up and wondered what he should do about it. He also noticed that there weren’t even bubbles, which surprised him, but he guessed that the exhaled gasses were distributed by whatever mechanism gathered them in for breathing.

  His ears started hurting again when he was close to the surface and he paused to let them clear, working his jaw back and forth. As he headed up he noticed that he always seemed to be at the surface, but it was always farther away than he anticipated. It was something of a surprise when first his outstretched left arm and then his head breasted the surface.

  He surfaced downstream from the dragons, well away from the ship, but Joanna was already serpentining towards him.

  “You were almost part of the food-chain there, Lieutenant,” the dragon said, grinning with her mobile lips. There was a bit of white flesh stuck in her teeth with a piece of shark skin still attached.

  “Just think of me as bait,” Herzer replied with a smile.

  “You’re taking it pretty well,” Joanna said, coasting up beside him. “Climb on.”

  “I’m used to people, and things, trying to kill me,” Herzer admitted. “It’s a hell of a thing to say, but getting attacked by sharks is the first normal thing that’s happened to me on this trip.”

  “You must lead a hell of a life.”

  “You have no idea.”

  * * *

  “You’ve got a sprained ankle,” Daneh said, as she finished her wrappings. “Not bad, but you’re going to need to stay off of it as much as possible for the next day or so.”

  The dragons had been recovered, as well as the riders, and they were preparing to take off to go try to find the mer. As soon as Herzer’s ankle got taped up.

  “Not much chance of that,” Edmund said, coming up behind her and holding out something to Herzer. “Souvenir.”

  Herzer turned the shark tooth over and over in his hand and shook his head.

  “Where’d you get this?” he asked.

  “Off the bottom of your fin,” the duke said. “It was jammed in a crevice. There were score marks on the fins, though. Pretty good considering that it was memory graphite.”

  “You were nearly killed, you know,” Daneh said.

  “I know, ma’am,” Herzer said with a faint smile. “I was there.”

  “Are you capable of flying?” Edmund asked.

  “If I can get a boot over this,” Herzer replied, gesturing at his foot.

  “We’ll figure something out,” Talbot replied, nodding. “I want to get going as soon as—”

  “Boat broad on the starboard bow!” the mast-head lookout called.

  “Boat?” Edmund said quizzically, looking off to the west. Somewhere over there was distant Flora but it was on the other side of the Stream. And the lookout had distinctly said “boat” not “ship” which they had all learned, quite pointedly, meant a little boat. Nobody in their right minds crossed the Stream in a small boat.

  “What do you make of it?” the skipper called up. He had binoculars to his eyes but for the time being the boat was below the horizon.

  “Looks like a small canoe of some sort, sir, maybe a kayak,” the lookout called down. “One person in it. Coming up from the southwest.”

  Half the crew crowded the side of the ship, trying to get a look at the suicidal person who appeared to have crossed the Stream in what the lookout noted was, indeed, a canoe, not a sea-kayak. As it approached his descriptions got clearer.

  “The crew’s a female,” he called down. “Dark hair… wearing… a bathing suit?”

  Herzer suddenly groaned and sat down on a coiled pile of rope, holding his head.

  “That’s no bathing suit,” he muttered. “Five gets you ten it’s a leather bikini. Which means it’s no human.”

  “No.” Edmund sighed, turning away from the rail. “It’s an elf.”

  “Bast?” Daneh gasped. “How did she? I mean…”

  “Bast?” Rachel asked, having just appeared from below. She shaded her eyes and looked to port where the canoe was now faintly visible. “Are you sure?”

  “Who else would cross the Stream in a dugout canoe?” Herzer asked.

  “And there’s a rabbit in the bow!” the lookout yelled down.

  “Well, that’s one of life’s little rhetorical questions answered,” Duke Edmund said with a chuckle. “The answer being ‘that damned bunny.’ ”

  * * *

  “Bast,” Herzer said, giving her a hug as she swarmed up the side. She kept right on swarming until she had her legs wrapped around his waist and her lips planted on his.

  The female he was referring to was no more than a meter and a quarter tall; she barely came to his waist. Her eyes were green with vertically split pupils and her ears were delicately pointed. She had high, small breasts and was wearing a green bikini of soft, washed leather. She carried a bow and quiver over her back and a light saber with a jewel-encrusted hilt belted t
o her side by a jeweled and tooled leather belt. On her left shoulder was a pauldron, a curved piece of armor to protect the shoulder, on her right shin was a greave, another piece of armor, on her left leg was a fur leg warmer and on both arms she wore leather bracers. Other than that she was naked. It was the most impractical getup imaginable, but that was pure Bast.

  “Hiya, lover,” she said when she’d finally drawn back. She leaned over and winked at Rachel. “I’m not stealing him, yet, am I?”

  “No,” Rachel replied with a grin. “As a matter of fact, you can feel free to use my bunk. He snores.”

  “Especially when he’s all worn out,” Bast admitted, dropping to the deck as the rabbit scrabbled up the side. It shouldn’t have been able to but its claws bit the wood like talons.

  “Bast…” Edmund said, pausing. “Not that I’m not glad to see you, but…”

  “But you’re on this important secret diplomatic mission,” Bast said, as Herzer delicately prized her off and set her on the deck, “and you don’t want two spirits of chaos ruining it.”

  “That’s probably how I’d put it,” Edmund admitted with a chuckle. “At least mentally. Why are you here?”

  “Well, you took lover-boy with you,” she said, grabbing Herzer’s arm and wrapping herself around it. This apparently was too unfamiliar so she swarmed back up him, this time on his left side, and wrapped her legs around his waist, leaning out for all the world like a koala on her favorite tree. “I couldn’t leave him to be all alone in the dangerous Southern Isles!”

  “Okay, so what’s with the bunny?” Edmund said, sighing.

  The rabbit in question was a brown-and-white, flop-eared mini-lop who looked for all the world like the world’s cutest, albeit dumbest, pet. That is if you ignored the black leather harness loaded with knives and a pistol crossbow. And the mad, red eyes.

  “Hey! Island vacation!” the rabbit snapped. “Big-titted blondes, warm beaches, sun, surf, sand and, most importantly, alfalfa margaritas!”