The Siren, the General's Daughter Book One (9 page)

“She showers, drinks… she needs saline?” Dr. Quimby stated, watching his daughter open her eyes. The three men observed the lemon sharks slowly swim by and stroke their bodies against her. Michael beckoned, signaling through the tank to applying the electrodes. Sam nodded, catching them as they floated down and hooking them to where her father pointed. Resting against the lower edge again, she ran her hand over the sharks as they slowly swam past her. Scott tossed the I-band in. Sam secured it around her throat and turned it on. The reading began to fluctuate and Michael bit his lip, pounding the glass.

“Take it off!” he yelled as the sharks changed their soft undulating to more intense hunt mode. She obeyed, pressed against the glass. The sharks slowly returned to a calm, lazy pace. Without exiting the tank, the girl handed the I-band back to her uncle.

“That was close. We need to reverse the frequencies.” Scott said, hand on Dr. Quimby’s shoulder.

“What is going on with her?” the man sounded frightened. He watched as Sam swam to the tank edge and pulled herself out. Soaked to the skin and shivering, the girl allowed herself to be stripped and wrapped in big towels.

“Feel better?” Michael asked, wiping her face as her father held her tightly.

“A little. I’m so sorry about your lip. What happened? I feel so strange. Daddy, what’s wrong with me?”

“I don’t know, sweetheart, but we’ll find out. In the meantime, salt water dunk every three days. Your readings still aren’t normal yet,” he answered, again assessing her. “You seem to be better hydrated. Let’s get a blood sample. Come on, it doesn’t hurt.”

“It doesn’t hurt you, you mean. Uncle Scott, are you ok?”

The man was unusually quiet as he followed them to sickbay. “If Mike wasn’t there to intervene, I probably would have blistered you for your behavior. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what would have happened then. I wouldn’t have allowed you in the tank either.”

“You aren’t the only one, buddy.” Dr. Quimby admitted, making a face when his daughter ‘owed’ the needle in her arm, “I was livid with what I saw. I had no idea.”

“Guys, listen,” Michael interrupted, “If I didn’t have that weird connection with her, I would have felt the same. We couldn’t have known. I’ll bet her adrenaline level was extremely high too, she was almost impossible for me to hold. I know it’s a lot to ask, in this weather, but I’d like to go out.”

“No way, it’s too dangerous out there.” Dr. Quimby said. Scott agreed.

Michael took a deep breath, standing to his full height. “Ok, I hear you. But let me rephrase this. This is an FYI. I’m taking her out, with or without your permission. The only way you can stop me is physically and I promise to hold nothing back with fighting you. I’m asking you politely to get the hell out of my way.”

Dr. Quimby and Scott stared in disbelief at the young man. Without another word, he gently scooped his sister up in his arms and took her to her cabin to get into wetsuits.

“Did you hear what I did?” Dr. Quimby finally asked out loud.

Scott took a deep breath. “Yeah, I did. I think our boy just got in our faces like a man. I just hope he’s right.”

“I’m still going to kick his ass for speaking to us like that,” the father said grumpily.

“Count me in. Let’s wait until they get back though. I’m in the mood for a brandy. Care to join me?”

“Make mine a double.”

***

“I’m so cold, Mike,” Sam whispered into her brother’s neck as he entered the cabin. He quickly removed the wet towel and helped her into the wetsuit. Wrapping blankets around her, he excused himself to change. She was shivering when he returned, yet burning with fever. Praying he was doing the right thing in defying his family, he carried her to the outside deck. Rain and wind blew furiously around him as he climbed into the rail. To the horror of the on-looking watches, he tossed her overboard and then dove in behind her.

Once penetrating the high waves, the ocean’s mood changed and became quiet, calm and soothing. Michael met his sister on the bottom shelf, about 60 feet down. She was exhaling slowly.

“Still cold?” he asked, pushing her floating hair from her face.

“Yes, but not as bad. I want to go deeper.”

Michael followed her down to nearly 300 feet before he stopped, unable to go any further due to his own gear restrictions. It was pitch black at this depth, the sounds eerie and mystical. Even the taste of the water was strange. It was peaceful, but also frightening, and Michael could only see a few feet in front of him with his light. Sam continued down, an occasional bubble to tell him she was well.

“How are you now?” he asked as she returned after several minutes.

“Finally comfortable. Are they mad at me?”

“Not at all, although I can’t promise the same about me,” Michael confessed his defiance.

His sister looked afraid. “What are they going to do to you? You don’t think—”

“I’m not going to get strapped, don’t worry. I think they finally agree I’m way too old for that,” he chuckled. “Nah, they will probably meet me in the gym and kick the crap out of me.”

“You’d let them? Without fighting back?” She sounded terrified for him.

He squeezed her hand. “Maybe fight back a little. Believe me, last time this happened, I wish I had gotten strapped. I was bruised from head to toe. See? I’m not perfect.”

“But you did it for me.”

“Just like you came back under for me. We’re even now,” he insisted as he elbowed her.

She shook her head. “Nah, I owe you much more. I’ll tell you what, let them fight. With both of us. You know even they can’t beat our team.”

“I will definitely consider it. I will need all the help I can get. Besides, they haven’t sparred with the two of us lately. We have some good tricks up our sleeves,” he snickered, placing his arm around her shoulders and holding her close. She felt so small and fragile in his embrace, especially surrounded by the blackness. He felt her stiffen. “What’s wrong?”

“Shark, a big one, coming towards us,” she whispered. He stared at her then began the quick assent towards the surface. They saw the large fish coming quickly behind them, right before it was intercepted by an even larger black and white whale. Ton quickly dispersed the monster, sending it swimming away to find less aggressive prey. Sam held his snout, verbally thanking him over and over. Michael floated a few feet away, staring in disbelief.

“How did you do that?” he whispered.

She turned from the whale, touching her neck. She was not wearing the band. “I don’t know. Michael, I’m scared. Take me home,” she admitted, leaving the whale to grab her brother’s hand.

He patted the whale’s blowhole. “Thanks boy. I don’t know if it was you who gave the warning or if she called you somehow, but we are grateful.” He almost thought he caught an image of penguins in his mind. Nah… but his sister was smiling.

“I know, stupid land walkers. I’ll talk to you later. Thank you again,” she said to Ton before he swam off.

“Let’s get back on board and face the music. We need to find out what’s going on. You feel ok still?”

“Actually, I feel totally normal now. I wonder what those blood tests are going to show. Mike?”

“Yeah, sis?” He helped her up on the platform.

She hugged him. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from them. They will have to go through me to get to you.”

“Then I have nothing to fear with you covering my back,” he grinned. “Let’s go find them.”

The two ventured over the ship before finding Scott and Dr. Quimby in the officer’s lounge sipping brandies. They jumped to their feet to embrace their young charges. Questions swarmed, too many to answer at once. Finally, Michael raised his hand. “Let us get dried off and we’ll meet you back here. Then we’ll answer all your questions. Yes, she’s fine now. Pour yourselves another drink, you’re gonna need it.”

The two returned 30 minutes later, Michael in sweats and his sister, in all things, her Pooh Bear pajamas and fuzzy slippers. With her hair in two high ponytails, she looked like she was six years old. Her intent, Michael was certain. He had to admit, she was adorable like this, so innocent and sweet. Sitting in front of the older men, the two relayed the dive and findings, Michael speculating on the shark incident. Sam piped in with a question.

“Mike, I need to know something. When you find me, how to you do it?”

“That’s always been a mystery. Why?”

“Did you catch the image of penguin when Ton was insulting us?” She eyed him closely.

He stared for a moment before nodding. “I thought that was just a memory of what you had told me previously.”

“No, it was either from him or me. I suspect our neurosystems are becoming more attuned to him, but I think it’s because of Ton, not us. We have no idea the extent of brain function the cetaceans have, but what if they are able to communicate with each other beyond sonar? What if he is learning to incorporate thoughts to us? I want to ask him if he will allow me to get a brain pattern study on him. He might not, he doesn’t trust land walkers.”

“We should also do a study of Mike when trying to locate you. There has got to be a common variable here,” Scott added, interest peaking.

Dr. Quimby rolled his eyes before draining the brandy from his glass. “Hello, people? Do you recall we just escaped another potentially fatal situation? Elevated temperature, dehydration, and hypoxia induced agitation? Resolved by what? Open water or depth? No narcosis from either of you?”

“No Sir, the gear protects us very well. It was odd, though, she didn’t relax until we hit 300.”

“300!” Dr. Quimby shouted, “I designed that gear for a normal dive at160 max!”

“I, uh, did some alterations, Dad,” Michael admitted, seeing his father’s face redden. “Listen, I know I didn’t clear it, but Sam takes those depths so I need to be able to follow. It made sense.”

“And I monitored him carefully when we experimented with it to make sure he was ok. You
know
I go down that deep now. Please, Daddy, don’t be mad at him. He was looking out for me, just like he promised to.” She blinked her large blue eyes at him as she climbed into his lap and kissed his rigid chin.

Scott tapped his glass, seeing his friend’s distress, fuming as well. “Michael Scott, if you weren’t so big, I’d take a strap to your backend right this minute,” he warned. “You are really pushing us today, young man. How many times have you been told not to tinker with things without our ok? I can recall at least 5 or 6 incidents.”

“I had to do something to keep her guarded, and you two are always so cautious. You know I would never do anything to jeopardize her, myself or the trust you have in me. Surely I’ve proven that to you,” Michael sounded a little panicked. It wasn’t like him to get defensive, but then, he rarely got himself in this type of predicament.

“I think we need a visit to the gym,” Dr. Quimby growled, glaring at his son.

His daughter popped off his lap and stood in front of her brother. “Not without me you won’t. He did this for
me
. If you want to get on his case, then you have to do it through me!”

“Sam, its ok,” Michael said, seeing his father’s eyes narrow with his neck vein starting to pop, as well as Scott’s jaw twitching. They were beyond pissed.  That was not good.

The girl stomped her foot. “No, it isn’t. If you want to get him, then you get the team. We may not win, but we will certainly show you that we can take good care of ourselves.”

“I suggest you watch your tone young lady, right now. We are not getting into a match with you,” Scott commented, in a low growl.

“Why? Because I’m a girl? Or because you’re afraid I might embarrass you out there?” she demanded, ignoring her brother’s hand on her arm. Oh yes, she knew the right words to get her way.

“Fine, you want to challenge the two of us? You got it, little miss. We might be older, but we are far from flabby. Meet us in the gym in 20 minutes and be prepared to eat your words,” Scott snarled, standing over her. She tried not to swallow hard. He frightened her! Her heart sank when he was joined by Dr. Quimby.

“I believe you just made a huge mistake, youngster. If you think that beating Scott gave you hurt, you are in for a surprise.” With that, the two left.

Michael, still sitting, shook his head. “Are you crazy? They are going to turn us into pulp. What got into you?”

“Stubborn Quimby pride mixed with Stupid Jenkins temper. Sorry,” she said sheepishly.

Michael tugged at her pajamas. “Go get changed. Might I suggest something a little conniving?” His blue eyes twinkled as his lifted his sweat shirt. He was wearing his wetsuit. The chemically saturated fibers acted like shock absorbers and would protect them from much of the impact forces needed to harm muscle or bone, thus enabling them to tolerate a longer and more intense fight. They could still feel superficial sensations (like the surface of a punch or kick) and sustain capillary damage, but overall, the suit provided excellent protection. Sam grinned back.  She was wearing the wetsuit under her clothes. They were ready.

Scott and Dr. Quimby were stretching out when the two walked in. Fierce pride marked the faces of the siblings as they readied themselves to show their parents the strength of their team. True to the speed of gossip on the small vessel, the word got around and the room filled with crewmen eager to watch the show-down. A lot of laughing was heard regarding Sam’s attire, too. She knew looking cute would elicit support from the onlookers, and possible sympathy from her parents.

This was a rare event, a sparring match of this caliber. In training, they were all equal. The older team had more experience and bulk and the younger team encompassed speed, determination and a bond that none could compete with.

Michael took his sister aside to warm up. “Listen, no matter what happens we need to let them win. Give them a good run, but when it’s time, throw in the towel.”

“No way, Michael, I never throw a fight! Besides, what makes you so sure we’ll win? They’re terrifying me,” she whispered back. She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen such expressions on the older men’s faces.