A Tale of Two Mermaids
  The Story of Sigourney and Rebecca
 
  Snore23
  May 30, 2013
     
 

     
 
 

Contents
  Chapter 1 3
  The Rescue 3
 
 
 

 
Chapter 1
The Rescue
 
 
  The tiny boat bobbed in the grey swells as seagulls wheeled overhead, filling the air with their cries. In the distance white-capped mountains could be seen, the near permanent snow on their peaks shining brightly despite the distance. The land below them could only be seen in the distance as a featureless grey-green plain. Other than the waves, wind, and birds, Mark and Loren were completely alone in the world.
  The fact did not bother Mark overmuch. He was an experienced SCUBA diver, and so was his sister, Loren. He trusted her to watch his back, as she expected him to watch hers. In the hundreds of dives they had accomplished together, perhaps fifty were cold-weather dives.
  Mark did one final check of the GPS attached to the dashboard of the speedboat he had rented. According to the grid reference, they were in the right spot. Their friend, Megan Foolswater had told them that this was the best fishing site on the Alaskan coast for spear-fishermen. Mark wasn’t sure, it seemed too far out from land and the sea floor was more than three hundred feet down. There was no way he could spear fish at that depth, but the monitor was full of fish at sixty to a hundred feet down, so perhaps he could harpoon something to put on the plate for dinner tonight back in Juneau.
  Pulling his head out of his musings, he did a buddy-check of Loren, making sure all of her gear was in the right place. Finding nothing missing, he gave her a thumb up and let her do the same for him. After waiting for her thumbs up, they sat on the low gunwales and tipped over backwards, landing in the water with a loud splash!
  Orienting themselves in the water, Mark and Loren quickly sank down to about fifty feet of water and began kicking away from the boat. They kept their spear guns close by and constantly looked in all directions for the fish promised by the fish finder.
  Mark was in awe at the life that teemed these Alaskan waters. Small baitfish darted in huge numbers, moving fast and seemingly darting in dozens of directions in tandem in a beautiful ballet. Larger fish moved through and around them, moving lazily through the schools of their smaller cousins. Dozens of fish Mark recognized; chum salmon, Dolly Varden, and a few that he didn’t, but turned out to be Sheefish and Arctic Char. He felt as if he had been transported to a different world, one in which he was a complete stranger. It was a familiar feeling; he got it each time he dove, and it only brought him back time and time again.
  He could tell that Loren was affected in a similar way, her masked head constantly turned around in circles, seeking views of all the different fish around them. Her spear gun hung loosely at her side, ignored for now.
  A flickering shadow at the edge of his vision caught his attention. He turned and saw dark shapes spinning and dancing in the gloom. He strained his eyes, but could make out no further details. He nudged Loren’s arm and pointed it out, and after a moment of she looked out and saw the same thing. He watched her write on her tablet and hold it up to him. DO WE GO LOOK?
  Mark couldn’t see why not, they were armed in case it was trouble, and most species avoided SCUBA divers. He was confident they could handle any situation they came across. He nodded.
  Together, they started in the direction of the figures. As they drew nearer, four of the shapes resolved themselves into speedy salmon sharks tearing at what appeared to be a seal. But something didn’t look right. Mark couldn’t put his finger on what it was, and decided to swim a bit further to get a closer look. Loren wasn’t quite sure about this, as she hung back for a moment before catching up to him. Mark eased his finger around the handle of the spear gun, just in case. His eyes strained in the dark water, trying to figure out what the sharks were after.
  The animal suddenly shot straight up towards the ceiling of the water like a cork from a popgun, trying to get up and over the sharks. They were having none of it, and two moved to cut her off while the third came from below to prevent her escape. Mark barely paid attention as he had finally gotten a good look at the prey and was stunned to his boots.
  It was a mermaid! Her body was not in the classic sense, with billowing hair and a human upper body. While humanoid, her skin looked to be similar to a dolphin’s rubbery skin, with no hair and a small ridge that ran down her smooth skull. Her eyes were large and filled with terror and exhaustion, and they darted in desperate need to find an escape. On her back was a much smaller mermaid that clung tightly to her mother, mouth open in fright, though no sound came.
  The mother had a huge wound on her flat, paddle-shaped tail that billowed blood in a red cloud. One of the sharks must have landed a bite early on and now she was fighting blood loss and shock, clearly struggling to stay ahead of the sharks. It was almost over now, and the sharks seemed to sense it. They were merely waiting for her to tire further before finishing her off. She let out a frightened bleat as a shark darted in and only just missed taking another bite.
  The sound was strange and haunting, high-pitched like a bat’s or dolphins squeak, yet with a longer tone rather than a sharp shriek. It was nearly past hearing, but the meaning was plain, it was a call for help.
  Mark could feel her desperation even here. He couldn’t sit idly by and let her get mauled by sharks and watch her baby be slaughtered! He had to do something! His hand clenched around the spear gun, and an inkling of a plan came to him. He had to get closer.
  Moving his spear gun in front of him like a rifle, he kicked his way closer, Loren imitating him. Though he hadn’t had time to tell her his plan, she mirrored his movements nearly perfectly.
  Closer they got to the action as the Mermaid swam in ever tightening circles as the sharks closed in. Already seagulls were landing on the water above, anticipating an easy meal. None of them took any notice of the clumsy creatures moving slowly through the water.
  Mark took careful aim, he was only going to get one shot at this and he didn’t want to mess up. One of the sharks was patrolling the outer ring to prevent the mermaids’ escape. He would make the perfect target. It would have to be the gills. Though the water was icy cold, Mark could feel the sweat on his forehead as he squeezed the trigger.
  SNAP! The spear shot out, propelled by the tight rubber bowstrings. It moved too fast for his eye to track it, but he was rewarded by the sight of it appearing in the shark’s gill slits. A second later a second dart entered its eye, Loren had always been the better shot and she had taken the more difficult target.
  The shark, caught by surprise, swam hurriedly away, leaking blood from its wounds. After going a short distance it started twitching madly before growing still, the spear in its eyes having pierced its brain.
  Attracted by its death throes and the scent of its blood, the other sharks abandoned the mermaids and went for the other shark, tearing great mouthfuls of flesh off it as it started to sink towards the black depths below.
  Mark was cheered, thinking that his plan was working. But when he turned around where he fully expected the mermaids to be gone, he was confronted by the sight of the mother starting to sink herself. The blood loss had nearly claimed her, and now she was unconscious.
  Without thought, Mark kicked his way over to her and grabbed her gently under the armpits. Loren grabbed the infant and together they began to swim like mad towards their boat. Mark thought briefly of surfacing, but knew they had to do a decompression stop on their way up or suffer the painful effects of nitrogen bubbles in the blood, known by divers as the “bends”. Speaking of which…
  Mark checked his air supply and cursed, the fight had lasted longer than he had expected; he was down to five hundred pounds of air and it was dropping fast as he worked to drag the unconscious mer through the water. He had no choice, he had to surface. Angling his body towards the surface, he slowly rose up.
  At fifteen feet he leveled off and continued swimming towards the boat. He needed to stay at this level for ten minutes while the nitrogen off-gassed from his system. Fortunately, he saw no signs of shark pursuit; it appeared the corpse of their brethren was keeping them satiated, for now.
  At last, his ten minutes were up, it had felt more like ten hours, and he began his ascent again. His needle was pegged nearly on zero, and he was working hard to pull air out of his tank and into his lungs. The shining barrier separating him from the sky was so close now, it felt like he could reach out and touch it. Yet when he stretched out his hand his fingers failed to brush the constantly shifting ceiling. A few more kicks, just a few more and he would be done.
  When his head broke the surface he spat out his regulator and took an invigorating gulp of cold sea air. Shifting his hold to one hand, he pulled the hose for his Buoyancy Compensator, or BC, and inflated it with a few breaths. Supporting two, he wasn’t as buoyant as he could have been, and every third wave washed over his head, but he wasn’t complaining. He could see his small boat bobbing less than a hundred yards away. He swam towards it, pulling the limp body behind.
  When he got to the boat, he shifted the mermaid forward. As she bumped up against the side of the boat, her beautiful golden eyes opened and looked at him blearily. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.
  “You still with me?” It was perhaps not the best thing he should have asked, but his mind was muddled a bit from dragging her and he had no time to think of anything better.
  A moan answered him. She didn’t slip back to unconsciousness on him, and that was something.
  Loren pushed the infant over the side into the safety of the boat before kicking her fins off and clambering in. Turning around she grabbed the older by her arms and heaved while Mark grabbed round the tail and pushed. The mother slid into the boat and Mark followed close behind. He was not going to stay in that water with those sharks behind!
  Safe now, Mark quickly shrugged out of his gear and took the wheel while Loren did the same. She crouched close to the wounded tail and examined it closely. Mark wasn’t sure what good she could do, there were no bandages big enough to encircle the large paddle, which he could see was as wide as both of his arms outstretched. He started the engine and pulled up the anchor as quick as a flash, while Loren grabbed some of their dry clothes and pressed it on the bleeding wound. The female hissed in pain and grimaced, but lay still. Mark spun the wheel and gunned the engine, and the small boat leaped like a race horse, engine growling loudly as they raced away.
  Mark reached for the radio, spinning the dial with one hand while he kept careful watch of the water for trees and other debris in the water. If he wasn’t careful, he could hull the boat, and they would all be in trouble.
  Finding the frequency he wanted, he clicked the transmitter and spoke loudly to be heard over the wind.
  “Sea Lion, Sea Lion, this is pleasure craft Water Sprite. Come in, over.” Static answered him.
  “Sea Lion, Sea Lion, this is pleasure craft Water Sprite. Please respond!”
  “This is the Sea Lion. We read you Water Sprite. Over.” A voice crackled through.
  Relief filled him, as well as a new, private worry. If he gave away a hint of what his passengers actually were, they wouldn’t let him get close to the ship. He needed a way to get close, and he had the perfect idea how.
  “Sea Lion, this is Water Sprite. We have an emergency on board. We struck a mother and her calf in shallow water. They’re badly cut up and need immediate veterinary aid. And we could use a doctor here as well.”
  Silence answered him. Then;
  “Understood, Water Sprite. What size craft are you?” A new voice asked. Where the other sounded young this on was mature.
  Mark frowned, unsure of the question. “Fifteen foot motor craft.” He said slowly. What could he want to know our size for?
  “Roger that. We’ll be waiting for you. Over and out.”
  Loren came up beside him. “Sea Lion?” she asked. She hadn’t been up when they had passed her.
  “A National Geographic cruise ship we passed about thirty minutes ago.” Mark told her as he kept his eyes on the waters ahead. “I figure it’s the best shot we’ve got to find a vet and a doctor this far out into the wilderness.”
  “Good thinking.” Loren admired. “I don’t think the mother has long.” She said quietly, peering worriedly behind her where the child had snuggled up to her mother and was watching them closely. The mother held her and was watching them worriedly through partially closed lids. “That wound…and those marks. She’s lost a lot of blood, Mark.”
  “I’m sure the vet will do his best sis.” He told her comfortingly. He wondered if he was trying to comfort her, or himself.  Pushing harder on the throttle, he eked a whole half-inch of movement in the joystick and drove harder.
 
 
  Mermaids, like all people, have their own language and names. Their names are long and complex, and utilize notes and letters that have not yet been devised by man. So, to avoid confusion, they will be referred to only by the names they would be given by their human friends.
  Sigourney clutched her daughter Rebecca to her breast and eyed the two-legged creatures that held them warily. Every instinct in her body told her to get away, swim down to the safety of the dark and wait for the two-legs to go away. The wound in her tail throbbed, and darkness crowded the edge of her vision.
  “Mom?” Rebecca asked, frightened.
  Sigourney pushed back stubbornly against the darkness, and tried to smile at Rebecca. “What is it, sweet fish?”
  “Are you all right?” Her childish face shone with worry as she stared anxiously up at her face. Sigourney knew she couldn’t show her daughter her pain; it would only frighten her more. She had to be strong, for Rebecca.
  “I’ll be…hn…just fine.” She promised. In truth, she knew the wound she had would be almost certainly fatal. Even if she did recover from her injuries, her tail would be ruined, she wouldn’t be able to swim fast enough to catch fish, and would most likely starve before the month was out.
  Her daughter seemed to know that her mother was lying, but wisely changed the subject. “What do you think they’re going to do to us?” She asked of the two-legged mers.
  “I don’t know.” Sigourney admitted. She could feel her strength sapping; she needed to conserve her strength. She briefly entertained the thought of throwing her daughter over the side of the floater that they were in, but this was one of those fast surface floaters and she feared her daughter would be seriously hurt if she tried. So, she did the only thing she could, she held her daughter close and prayed that they would be safe.
 
  She cursed the desperate hunger that drove them to separate from the pod. Her baby girl had been starving, and the old mer that led the pod had lost her wits a while back. Sigourney had seen what no one else had; that the old cow no longer knew the direction to the feeding grounds that sustained her people in the warm months. The others refused to leave, the stubborn fools, and so desperate was she to find food that she abandoned her pod to find it.
  It had taken them days of searching before they found a rich hunting ground a short distance from land far from the deep waters normally favored by her people. Of course, like all rich hunting grounds, other hunters had gathered and those that came to hunt often found themselves prey instead.
  It was foolish of her to let down her guard, especially after making a kill, but Sigourney had been tired. No danger could be seen and the sharp throw-stick had killed a large Salmon that had been hunting one of the smaller fish of the sea. Blood billowed from its gills as she grabbed the harpoon and began cleaning it too feed. Then the eat-all fish, which we as humans call sharks, appeared.
  They had come at her from below, where she could not see them. The first got a bite on her fin but let go after she jabbed at it with the harpooned fish. Another took the fish and harpoon from her hand in one bite, just missing the outstretched digits. Rebecca screamed; two were upon her as well. Despite the pain and shock of her wound, Sigourney swam for all she was worth. She grasped her daughter and rocketed away from the sharks, which quickly pursued.
  She hadn’t gone far before another appeared out of the gloom in front of her, snapping at her with its teeth. Sigourney dodged left and the shark followed. Her tail was throbbing, and she was already slowing. The sharks, however, showed no signs of stopping their attack, and were drawing ever closer. Sigourney’s eyes darted around, seeking any place to escape but finding none. The appearance of the last shark in front of her nearly made her give up in despair. They were all around her now, coming ever closer and darting in, trying to take another bite of her.
  Rebecca pressed herself tightly against her mother, frightened out of her wits. Sigourney could feel the fear from her and wanted to find words of comfort and assure her that they would be all right, but none came. Fear held her tongue shut, and darkness crept in at the edge of her vision.
  Without warning, the sharks broke off their attack and went a short distance before biting at one of their own. Sigourney watched in stunned surprise, wondering what had made them turn on one another. Her daughter’s gasp made her turn around and see the two black creatures that approached, air bubbling out from them every other second. What were these things? Sigourney had to get away, protect her daughter. A stroke of her tail sent a blinding pain up her body and at last she knew no more until she woke up in the fast water-raft that the humans would teach her was called a boat. Rebecca was already aboard, and they were working on bringing her in as well, and moving quickly lest the sharks return.
  Now, of course, they were speeding over the water, the wind in her face as she clutched her daughter and wondered where on Oceanous they were going.