Poseidia (10 page)

While I stood there dumbfounded, he stalked over and placed
a sword into my hand. It was so heavy I couldn’t lift it off the floor, yet he spouted orders at me, instructing me to assume a form I was unfamiliar with.

Lost
and overwhelmed, I tried my best to follow along. Roman didn’t say a word about our encounter in the cave, ignoring me except to bark in my direction. My anger and frustration grew until I was ready to explode. He then put me in a corner, cut off from the rest of the students.

“You’re disrupting my class,” he s
colded, in a hushed voice.

“Excuse me, Lily put me in here, I didn’t ask to
attend,” I retorted, feeling mortified and angry.

“I think you need a toy sword to play with. The real thing is too much for you.” He
replaced my sword with a small plastic one. “This is what my weak students use. Now, do the move I showed you.”

R
esisting the urge to smack the crap out of him, I grew angrier, but determined not to give him anything to make this experience worse. Reluctantly, I took the toy sword and did as he demonstrated, perfectly.

“
Again,” he bellowed as he paced back and forth, while the whole class stopped and gawked.

Grinding
my teeth, I repeated the move.
I don’t deserve this treatment.

“Again
,” he repeated.

Y
ou have to be kidding me.

“Again.
Again, again, again, again.”

Even though
I did it perfect every time, he refused to acknowledge my success, nor show me anything new.
I’m on the verge of losing it—I’m going to explode if I don’t get out of here.

“Again, I said,” he
ordered.

“No. I don’t see the point of this move other than to
embarrass me. I’ve had it,” I fumed, threw the toy down, storming out the door and through the common area.

Chapter 1
0

I
wandered aimlessly in the gardens, stopping at a semi-circle, littered with stone benches, near the edge of the dome.

Desperate
to evaporate my anger
and frustration by soaking in the lush beauty, I did a few deep breathing techniques. The aroma of the flowers had an intoxicating effect and my irritation melted away.

Lily
approached from across the yard. “I thought I might find you here. Don’t be so hard on yourself—it’s your first day training. All will come in time,” she consoled as she drew near.

So you keep saying.
Resembling a caged animal, I marched back and forth in front of the dome. “Roman is the one being hard on me, not me.”

“Roman
is simply challenging you, pushing you to test your boundaries. He rather enjoys it, I think,” she responded, smiling. “You two have something in common, so you should get along well.”

Lily
observed my pacing, remaining calm and happy. Her joyful mood had an effect on me and more of my irritation vanished.

“What
could we possibly have in common?” I quipped, stopping in front of her, genuinely perplexed at the comment.

“Your anger
—it’ll poison you. You must learn to let go and forgive, or rage becomes a disease that will consume your body and mind.”

Anger?
Forgive?
“I cherish my anger. It keeps me warm at night.”

“Roman’s anger has kept him f
rom fully integrating into our Connective. He’s stuck in between. It’s not a good way to live down here.”

Whatever.
Turning to face the dome, I became spellbound by the magnificence of hundreds of fish happily swimming along, oblivious to me. In fascination, I stared out into the ocean. Gently, I traced my fingers along its surface, feeling the texture.
How does it stay in form?
How come it doesn’t jump out at me now, suck me through, and spit me out like it did before?

Lily walked over to where I stood
, took my hand, and pressed it firmly against the dome. The substance pulsed under my fingertips. After how it pulled me through the other day, I had the urge to take my hand away, but Lily held it there. Despite the contact, it didn’t reach out for us and throw us through to the other side.
Why? What is it made of and how does it keep all the water out?

“The dome handles the pressure of the ocean on top of us. It’s porous
—oxygen diffuses across the membrane, so we can breathe. The netted, or swimming, dome is in the same material, but the design is different,” she informed, flattening my palm into the gel of the dome no more than a quarter of an inch. It gave way, and absorbed my hand.

“
Does the netted dome keep out the sharks?”

“
There are openings so only smaller species can enter. It keeps out larger predators, giving us a safe place to swim. An effective and non-violent way we’ve learned to live in harmony.”

Relaxing my hand, I observed,
“It feels alive. Why do I think that?” I wiggled my fingers around. The material moved slowly, but didn’t pull at me.

“It’s organic in nature. No substance could handle the pressure of the ocean at these depths, other than something
which lives in it, and grows.” She let go of my hand and removed hers.

Resistant to removing my hand from the dome, I inspected the texture a while longer. The dome hummed the way a cat would purr—
apparently loving my touch.

Satisfied
with my exploration, I pulled my hand out. “There’s no residue.” I examined the front and back of my palm.

“The dome absorbs all excess moisture,” she
explained.

“Yeah, I noticed
that when Roman brought me back through the dome, after the attack.” In the distance, I saw my dolphin friend approaching and smiled. She swam back and forth in front of the dome as if she wanted me to join her.

Lily watch
ed her antics. “The feeling of the Connective is much stronger in the water. You’ll feel the innocence of every creature—when you’re integrated, of course.”

“Do you
speak with fish?”

“We
converse, but they don’t think exactly as we do. Their thought processes are more images and emotions. When you learn to interpret it, you will know how to communicate with them.”

“I think I got a taste of that.”

“You did? Please describe,” she said, tilting her head toward me in a curious way.

“Well, when I fell through the
dome and transformed, that same dolphin swam up to me. When I touched her, I sensed some odd emotions, but when I removed my hand, the sensation went away.”

“S
he connected with you. That’s interesting you were able to communicate already. It’s unexpected, but I guess it’s why she helped you. She sensed your desire to leave.”

“Why is it unexpected?”

“You’re not integrated into our Connective. I’m surprised you’ve experienced this ability so soon.” She brought her brows together.

“Why doesn’t the dome spit me through?
Like it did before?”

“It senses
what your true intentions are—that you truly do not wish to leave us.”

Stunned,
I stared at Lily.
When exactly did I change my mind?

“I
don’t know exactly when, but sometime after you learned you were a Mer. Perhaps Roman said something to change your mind,” she speculated, glancing back at the dolphin as it swam away.

“What did you say?” I
tested, turning to face her.

“I said
, perhaps Roman had an influence on your change of heart.”

“No—you said
, ‘I don’t know exactly when, but sometime after you learned you were a Mer.’”

“I did say that. In response to your question of
‘When exactly did I change my mind?’” she acknowledged, as her eyes darted back and forth.

“I…
didn’t say it… out loud.” My throat tightened.
How? Wait—no. The Connective?

“
Of course you did,” she said, her voice revealing her uncertainty. Lily walked over and sat down on one of the stone benches. Leaning forward, she put her elbows on her knees, staring at the ground.

“No, I’m
sure I didn’t say it aloud. How did you know?” The irritation from my session with Roman resurfaced and I rubbed the back of my neck.

“You…
project your thoughts,” she revealed, carefully looking back up at me.

“I do what?” I
shouted, squaring my hands on my hips.

“You project…
your thoughts,” she repeated, concern and then confusion, evident on her face.

“You can hear my thoughts?” I crossed my arms over my chest
while tightly bunching my fists.

“I can
—I’m sorry. It never occurred to me you didn’t know. I thought you understood from our conversation about our Connective.”

I closed the distance between
us while indicating the bumps on my arms and the covering over my hand. “I thought this… sensory dampener protected me from that. Can you hear… everything?” I whispered, closing my eyes and counting to ten in my head.

Returning to
pacing, I tried to recall everything I had thought over the last few days.

“Only what you project.”
Lily patted the space on the bench beside her. She lowered her voice, “When you think in the form of speech.”

“How long?” I
asked, feeling mortified while stepping toward where she sat on the bench.

“Since…
you woke up.”

“Today?” I sat down next to her, calming myself.

“Since you woke up in the Healing Center from your coma.” Reassuringly, she placed her hand on my shoulder.

“Can everyone hear m
y thoughts?” Humiliated, I covered my face with my hands.

“Only if they are close enough physically to you.”

Oh, shit—Roman. How will I ever face him again?

“Is that how it works? This
Connective? What, can no one do anything without everyone knowing? Not even have sex, or… or… or a bad day? Will all my mistakes, experiences, and internal dialogue be broadcast around the city for everyone to know?” I asked, waving my hands around. Shakily, I rubbed my temples and forehead with my palm.
Breathe.

“It’s not broadcast in the way you mean.” She patted my back.

“I’m mortified you can hear my projected thoughts. How do I not do that?” I asked, on the verge of tears.

“I’ll teach you. You won’t understand until you’re in
the Connective and can experience it for yourself. It’s difficult to explain in human language. I think it’s time to introduce you to our Social Center. I think you could use some down time, to have fun. It’s not that different from human social activities. We’ve learned a lot from interacting in the human world and have adopted some of their customs.”

“I didn’t realize you
had any contact with the human world. I do need a drink. It would be nice if you all had whiskey or something.”

“
Come—you’ll be surprised at the options.” She held out her hand for me.

R
eluctantly, I placed my hand in hers. First, she took me back to my quarters where I showered and changed clothes. I picked out a long white dress with rubies in the collar and at the end of the sleeves. It hung past my knees and so I pulled it tight with a matching belt. Finishing off the look, I slipped on red ballet-type slippers and pulled my hair back into a low ponytail, tying it with a narrow piece of red silk.

We
headed toward yet another building—one I hadn’t been to before. As we approached, I heard the beat of music through the air.
Music?
The atmosphere changed the closer we came. The silent and ominous vacuum of the garden vanished and was replaced with a much lighter mood. I smiled as I recognized the music.
Reggae.
It was upbeat, and I found the closer we got, my feet bounced.

“
It’s human music,” I rejoiced, excited to hear a bit of home.

“Yes, this is our Social Center,
” Lily said, leading me inside.

The layout
resembled a spider web, larger than any other building I had seen. Smaller rooms, connecting to a large open dance floor one, held bars, tables, lounge chairs, couches, and many round tables.

We
settled in an alcove that had a nice view of the sea.

“You have access to
human music? I had no idea,” I marveled. Excited, it was hard not to smile and I forgot about the things stressing me, even though the music made me feel homesick. The euphoria was stronger in here and I grinned ear to ear.

“Humans are talented and gif
ted in their creative arts. We adore their music. As I said before, talking is ancient. We don’t sing as humans do. I’ll be right back.” Lily left the table and walked over to a bar.

I turned to face the glass wall, trying
to be on guard against thought projection. It seemed the more I tried to control it, the more my thoughts amplified.

S
he came back to the table with a tray full of a variety of food, and two glasses. “I thought you could use some wine.”

They have
wine? Why am I only finding out now?
This perked me up right away.

“Wine? Um, yes please, I love wine. I had no idea you guys h
ad such indulgences down here.”

“It’s not the kind of wine
you’re used to. We make it with the nectar from some of our flowers. It has a much sweeter and lighter flavor.” She placed a glass in front of me.

Intending to toast
the fish beyond, when I held the flute of wine up to the glass wall, I saw the liquid was pinkish-orange in color. The aromas of the flowers in the gardens wafted to my nose. Taking a tentative sip, I was pleased to find it softly sweet, a cotton candy without the heavy taste of alcohol.

L
aughing and feeling more at ease after a few drinks and some food, I watched as a few people got up to dance. Closing my eyes, I soaked in the happy feelings.

Lily went up for another tray of wine, and I drank one glass after another.
Thankfully, my consumption didn’t seem to be having any effect on me, yet.

“How do you make it day and night this far under the sea?” I asked
, giggling.

“We have cycles generated by
our Energy Center, which uses the earth’s energy, so we stay in a circadian rhythm.” She sipped her wine.

Lily
got up several more times for wine and food, while I relaxed and enjoyed myself, feasting on delectable bites of pineapple, pears, strawberries, and fish.