Page 30 of Lover from the Waves

But his unease about this building lingered; this was neither the place to reflect nor to act upon his feelings for her.

Turning back to the collapsed piece of furniture, Ector tilted his head. Though many of the sticks were broken and likely out of place, they were arranged in a large, vaguely rectangular shape with a deep pile of debris filling the middle—mostly leaves, but a few bits of what might’ve been fur were mixed in. Thicker branches—logs, really—lay near the corners of the formation. His brow furrowed. Somehow, this ruined thing seemed familiar to him, as though he should have known what it had once been.

Kathryn’s footfalls were quiet save for the occasional creak of hidden wood as she approached Ector. She crouched beside him. “I think this was a bed.”

Now he could see it, now he could rearrange the pieces well enough in his imagination to visualize the shape it might once have held—a frame with thick posts standing at each corner.

A strange, gloomy mood overcame him in that moment. Generations of kraken had lived and died on this world, but were they to vanish, what proof of their existence would remain? How would anyone know who they had been or that they’dbeenat all? What had been crafted by kraken hands and tentacles in all that time?

The gloom fled quickly, chased away by a resurgence of pride. Perhaps such thoughts were suitable a generation or two ago, but no longer. There would be a kraken legacy left behind thanks to individuals like Arkon.

A thoughtful look settled on Kathryn’s face. “If someone did live here, I wonder why they isolated themselves.”

Carefully, Ector extended a tentacle into the debris gathered at the center of the fallen bedframe, sifting through it. “I can understand a want for solitude. It is my people’s nature. But I wonder now whether it is actually a desire for…privacy, not isolation.” He turned his head to look upon her again. “I find no value in isolation.”

A soft smile curled on her lips. “It’s okay to be alone sometimes…but no one wants to be lonely.”

The light in her eyes gave those words immense meaning, rekindling that warm, tight feeling in Ector’s chest. Perhaps two or three years ago, he’d have mistaken the sensation for something negative—alarm or fear, perhaps. Anxiety. But he knew this was different. It was far deeper, far more complicated…and there was nothing negative about it.

“Come on,” she said, placing a hand on his forearm and rising to her feet. As she stepped away, she trailed her fingers along his arm, up to his shoulder. “Let’s head back to camp.”

He nodded and was withdrawing his tentacle from the debris when it bumped into something hard and cold beneath the relatively soft pile. Brow furrowing, he looked down at the pile and curled his tentacle around the object; it had four flat sides, smooth beneath the grime clinging to them. Ector lifted the object free. The rotting debris rained from atop it to reveal a small metal box.

From front to back, it was as wide as his hand was long, and twice as big from side to side. He shifted it into his hands and rose, turning to face Kathryn. Holding the box atop one palm, he brushed away some of the dirt from its lid with the other. He’d seen boxes just like this more times than he could count—they were all over the Facility.

“Look at this,” he said.

Kathryn paused, her body silhouetted against the light coming in through the gap in the wall, and turned her face back toward Ector. Her brows lowered. She cast another look at the room around them before her eyes fell on the box. “Well, that certainly doesn’t belong here.”

Ector tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

She gestured vaguely around the room. “Look at this place. It’s all crudely built, made by hand. Everything here was made from materials available just outside, and it’s all rotting away and being reclaimed by nature.” She pointed at the box. “Everything but that.”

He trailed his gaze around the space before returning it to the box. “And…anyone who had access to this should have had access to more advanced tools. Should have been able to build things like your people have in The Watch.”

“Or someone might have found this place like we did and hid that here. Though that would still leave the question of who built this to begin with. All the colonists should’ve had access to the same tools, right?” She stepped closer to him and brushed the tips of her fingers across the box’s lid. “It’s going to start getting dark soon. Let’s get back to camp, and we can try to open it there. Maybe there are some answers inside. And anyway, we still need to take care of that cut.”

“That seems as good a plan as any,” Ector said, smiling at her again. The cut had already lost most of its sting; had she not mentioned it, he probably wouldn’t have remembered it at all.

She returned the smile and gestured toward the opening in the wall. Ector tucked the metal box beneath his left arm and preceded her through the gap. Thankfully, he avoided cutting himself again. Once he was clear of the opening, he moved aside to allow Kathryn space.

The fallen rocks laying across the entryway clattered softly as she emerged. She stopped beside him and brushed her fingertips over his wrist. “Hopefully those hinges aren’t rusted closed or anything.”

Ector turned his head to look at her. “We will figure it out one way or another, Kathryn, even if—”

A harsh hiss cut off Ector’s words. Kathryn started, jerking back from the sound, and both she and Ector snapped their wide eyes toward the source.

Two yellow eyes gleamed amidst the foliage not five meters away. The leaves and branches shook as a creature emerged. Its body was sleek and powerful, with a long neck and tail, and each of its four legs ended in wicked talons. The beast was covered in dark scales in shades of green and violet that matched the surrounding vegetation. It opened wide its jaws, which were lined with sharp, curved teeth, and hissed again.

“A vriga,” Kathryn whispered.

Ector extended an arm and swept Kathryn behind him, skin going crimson. He released his hold on the box. Its fall was muted by the blanket of leaves on the jungle floor.

The creature hesitated in its advance and lowered its head, yellow eyes locked on Ector. A long, thin tongue darted out from its mouth and whipped through the air. It slowly moved one of its legs forward.

“A predator?” Ector asked, keeping his voice low.

“Yes,” Kathryn replied. “It probably scented your blood.”

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