Page 27 of Whispers of the Deep

She couldn’t respond, anyway. His achromo had one of the tools he’d brought her in her hands. Flicking it on and off, she moved it back and forth between her hands before holding it out to him.

Arges did not take it. He knew well the dangers of the achromos’ weapons, and he had no interest in them. Apparently, it was not the right response. Again she gestured with it, then pointed at herself. Pointed at the weapon, pointed at herself, then pointed at him.

“Do you want more junk?” he asked, his lip curling in disgust. “You want me to bring you more broken things?”

She clearly had no idea what he was saying, but he understood her request.

“All right, achromo.” His gills flared again before he could stop them. How could she know it was the correct mating ritual for her to request that he bring her treasures? “I will bring you more junk.”

With a flick of his tail, he sank beneath the waves and fled from that golden light. Fled from the thoughts in his mind where he had thought, for a moment, she might understand what she asked.

Eleven

Mira

Mira had no idea how long she waited for him. Only that she stared at the wall for hours on end before she had the first whispering fear that he might not come back. And maybe, just maybe, now was the time for her to plan her escape.

She’d tried to search through all the gear for flippers. Any kind of swimming fins would do, but unfortunately, she had little luck. Most of the items left down here were rusted beyond repair. And even then, there was nothing made of rubber or plastic.

How old was this place?

Given a little more time, she might be able to parse it out. But she was more likely to sit and wallow at this point.

She’d officially reached the “depression” stage of being kidnapped days ago. Denial had taken quite a while, and then she wasn’t sure if now this was acceptance or if she was back to drowning herself before he came back.

Eyeing the glowing yellow water, she had to admit, death by drowning at this point sounded better than what she was doing now. There were a few fish in there today—if it was day—and she could only guess that was because her undine hadn’t been around in a while. Otherwise, they all scattered for many hours.

She’d tried counting once. There were tiny marks on the floor where she’d used a pebble to scratch out every minute that ticked by. But then she’d gotten bored with all that about six hours in and abandoned the project.

Even now, cross-legged on the floor with the console panel’s base ripped open, wires decorating the ground around her, she couldn’t find the curiosity to keep digging. Apathy hung over her head, dripping down the back of her skull and into her spine with wet plops.

What was the point? Why try to fix the console when she knew there was nothing she could do to get it to work? Not down here. There weren’t any components to add to the sodden thing, not to mention nothing she could use to fix the rusted wires or bolts that had long since crumbled into dust. The only working tool she had was the damned welder, and that thing was at least six models old.

Sighing, she banged her head against the metal doors in front of her. Once, twice, three times, enough to knock her skull around and maybe make her see a little reason.

Mira was not the type to give up. She did not wallow in self pity. She needed to get up, make a plan, and start…

The strange whale sound of the undine’s speech interrupted her thoughts. Pausing in her banging, she told herself to just keep going. Maybe if she hit her head hard enough, she’d forget that any of this had happened at all. She could be a vegetable that he rolled around and did whatever he wanted with.

But that wasn’t the right way to think, either. She couldn’t give up, not when he was making that horrible noise over and over again. It was like he was singing to her, and she didn’t like any guy that pinned her down and tried to sing.

Of all things.

Sighing, she turned around, ready to glare at him or maybe argue for a little while. That might feel nice. She wouldn’t mind doing that.

Except she froze when she saw him. Because he was holding in his arms the single most useful item, he could have gotten her from the bottom of the floor.

“Oh, you brilliant monster,” she muttered, launching her body toward him with her arm outstretched. “Where did you find this?”

The hunk of metal might not look like much, but she recognized an android when she saw one. Her father used to tinker with these in his spare time. Relics of a time long past, they had been first used to scope out potential areas of the ocean where the cities could easily be built. It looked a bit like a square box right now, but she knew how to wake it up.

Frantically grabbing it out of the undine’s arms, she turned the android right side up and set it onto the floor. “Please don’t be waterlogged. Please don’t be rusted. Please fucking work.”

The undine watched her with a curious gaze, and she wondered if she should let him see this. The robot he’d brought her could be dead, after all, but it also could be her salvation. It might even send a message to the surface if it was one of the newer pieces.

“Ah, you can watch, I suppose,” she muttered, casting a suspicious glance in his direction. “It’s not like you understand me, anyway.”

The undine had made zero attempt to converse with her. For the most part, he’d just vaguely gestured at her and then did whatever he wanted, anyway.

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