Authors: Jenn Reese
Above World (24 page)
“Good,” Hoku said. “It still has work to do in your lungs, but the worst is over.”
She hugged him tight, afraid to speak. The ocean was hers once again.
Click.
Aluna, Dash, and Hoku looked over at Zorro just as the lid of the water safe sprang open.
A
S SOON AS
the water safe popped open, Zorro tried to shut it again.
“No!” Hoku said, prying himself free from Aluna and rushing to the animal. “Stop!”
The raccoon tilted his head and perked his ears.
“Zorro, stop,” he repeated more clearly. “You’re all done, boy. Good job.” He gave the raccoon a big scruffle between the ears. Figures the little guy would focus on the combination part, not the actual goal of opening the box. In a way, that was Hoku’s favorite part, too.
But now that the mermaid box was open, all he could hear was the pounding of his heart inside his chest.
Please, oh, please let it be something worthwhile!
“What’s in it?” Aluna asked.
Hoku memorized the numbers first, before anything happened to reset them:
704404.
Then he took a deep breath and lifted the silver mermaid lid all the way open.
Three items sat inside: a handwritten letter, an old photograph, and a small carved wooden dolphin.
Where was the powerful artifact that was going to save them all? Where was the perfect weapon for defeating the Upgraders?
“Well?” Aluna said.
He looked in the box, searching for a good answer and trying to quell the disappointment that threatened to overwhelm him. “There’s a letter,” he said. The paper was faded and wrinkled. Someone had written all the words by hand, except for the top part. He read,
“FROM THE DESK OF DR. KARL STRAND, DIRECTOR, BIOMEDICS.”
“Can you read the rest of it?” Aluna asked.
“Of course,” he said. Just because it took him a long time to figure out
biomedics
didn’t mean he couldn’t figure out the rest. Then he remembered that she couldn’t read at all and felt sorry for his reaction.
“Please,” Dash said. “I also am interested.”
Hoku cleared his throat and started at the handwritten part. Luckily “Karl” had used a steady, even hand when he wrote it, or Hoku’s job might have been much harder. “‘Dearest Sarah —’”
“Sarah Jennings! Your grandma was right!” Aluna interrupted. She turned to Dash and explained, “Sarah Jennings — known as Ali’ikai — founded the City of Shifting Tides. She was the first Kampii.”
“Shhh,” said Dash. “Do not interrupt a word-weaver.”
“He’s not making up the words,” she said. “He’s reading them. It’s not the same.”
“Perhaps not to you, but —”
“‘Dearest Sarah,’” Hoku repeated, louder this time. When Dash and Aluna settled down, he continued:
“You say you’ve made up your mind, but I can’t let you go without trying one last time to persuade you to stay. I will start with this: We
do
have a future. We have a future both as a race of people on a struggling planet, and as a family.
Even now, in my own lab, Ratliff and Nazarian are close to the cure. Not only can they stop the spread of Super-Z but they can make sure nothing like this ever happens to humanity again. They want to keep testing, but I know, in my heart, that it works, and that it will save us all. In fact, we’ll be stronger than ever before.
If only you were willing to give me more time. . . . Ah, but I know you. When your mind is made up, you are a bulldog. (There won’t be bulldogs in your new underwater colony, will there? No bulldogs, no fireplaces, no long, slow hikes at dusk. . . . Can you really give up all those things? Will your new race of Kampii ever love you as much as I do?)
I’ve enclosed two items with this letter. Do you remember the photo? We’d taken Tomias to his first soccer game. He ate two hot dogs and cheered for both teams. He was so healthy then, and we had so many plans.
The second item you will also recognize. It will pain you to keep it, knowing that I carved it with my own two hands. But you will not be able to throw it away, knowing how much Tomias loved it. Knowing how he put it under his pillow at night and insisted on bringing it everywhere he went. Do you remember that night in San Diego when we spent nearly four hours scouring the beach for it?
Tomias is gone, but we can have that happiness again. We can have another child, or two more, or even six! I can guarantee they’ll be safe. I can guarantee that they’ll live forever. I’m not giving you empty promises. Not anymore. Not ever again. I can make miracles now.
I can, I will, do anything for you, Sarah. Just don’t leave me.
With more than an ocean of love,
Karl”
Hoku pulled the photograph out of the box. Three faces smiled up at him, presumably Sarah Jennings, Karl Strand, and their son, Tomias. Sarah was tall and brown skinned, a much younger version of the sculpture on her monument in the Kampii city. Her crinkled hair was pulled back but not quite contained in a bushy ponytail behind her head. The grinning boy was about six years old and held a spotted black-and-white ball in his hands.
Karl had a shock of brown hair, nicely mussed, and wore the biggest glasses Hoku had ever seen. The man stood slightly shorter than Sarah and had sand-colored skin. One of his arms was around Sarah’s waist, and the other rested on his son’s shoulder. They stood on a field of green grass, with a blue cloud-spotted sky behind them. It was hard to imagine a more perfect vision of Above World family bliss.
Hoku picked up the wooden dolphin. It fit nicely in his hands. Although it had been crudely carved, certain places along its nose and dorsal fin had been worn smooth. He ran his thumb along the wood, imagining the child Tomias doing the same thing centuries ago.
Hoku closed his eyes for a moment and felt his mother’s arms around him. The sounds of dying Deepfell faded into the warm memory. He could smell her hair, could hear the sound of her voice when she was trying to scold him about something she didn’t really think was too bad. He could picture her as she talked, trying to keep her face stern, trying to keep the smile from her lips. He didn’t always make her proud, but she always loved him. Always, always. And he had left her without even saying good-bye.
“Hoku!” Aluna said.
He snapped his eyes open and the real world came crashing in around him like a tidal wave.
“What else is in there?” she asked. “Weapons? Secrets? Anything we can use?”
He shook his head. “No,” he said, dropping the dolphin back into the box. “Nothing except the dreams of dead people.”
A
LUNA TOOK A STEP
toward him. “Hoku —”
He shoved the water safe into her hands. “I’m going for a walk,” he said, afraid that if he didn’t get away he might do something humiliating and unforgivable, like burst into tears.
He turned his back and headed off before she could stop him. Zorro started to follow him, but Hoku shook his head and said, “Zorro, no.” The raccoon sat back on his haunches immediately, eyes pulsing green. Hoku kept walking.
He wound his way along the edge of the cave wall, his brain a jumble. He wanted nothing more than to be back in his family’s nest with a big net of fresh clams, planning his next experiment and listening to his parents talk about their day.
A strange squeak invaded his thoughts. He looked around for its source and saw a wounded Deepfell lying on the sand. She squeaked again, louder, and looked straight at him. He headed for her pallet, careful not to kick sand in her face as he walked.
She couldn’t have been more than a few years older than he was. Most of her torso was wrapped in cloth spotted with blood. Even for a gray-skinned monster, she looked pale and frightened.
“Akkikoki,” she squeaked. “Okok kikka kikka.”
He shook his head. “I don’t understand.”
She reached out a webbed hand, and he took it in his own. Her flesh was smooth and rubbery. It should have been firm and slick with water, but here in the cave, it was dry and soft. Almost frail. He never thought he’d say that about a Deepfell.
He dropped to his knees and stared at the wounded girl. Her eyes were wide and black, set farther apart on her face than his — probably so she could see in more directions while she swam. She didn’t try talking again. She sat there and held his hand. He watched her breathe. Her body jerked with each inhalation, as if even the act of drawing in air was painful to her.
He pictured his mother in the Deepfell’s place, pain contorting the lines around her eyes and mouth. He pictured Calli, her huge smile replaced by a grimace as she tried to be brave for him. He pictured Aluna, always so strong, barely able to keep her grip on his hand.
He dropped his head and cried.
The Deepfell girl did nothing. She just lay there, breathing slowly, her hand in his hand. Then, ever so softly, she started to whistle. The sound was high-pitched and faint, the melody haunting.
The Deepfell was singing to him.
He cried while she sang. All the danger and running and fear — it had all been building up inside him. The letter from Karl had made him sad. Sad for Karl and for Sarah Jennings and for their son, Tomias. He was worried about Calli, out there in the Above World all alone, because of him. He was scared, not just for himself, but for everyone he loved.
None of these things were terrible by themselves, but together, all at once? Crushing, as if he’d swum too far into deep ocean.
Eventually his tears stopped and only the Deepfell’s song remained. It was beautiful and melancholy, but there was a note at the end of each verse that lifted his spirits. A single note that offered hope. How could the whole song be redeemed by such a small moment?
He thought about Aluna and Dash, Calli and Zorro. They were just like that: small notes in a great big song of despair. The Above World felt vast and cruel and hopeless, but maybe their actions could change the tenor of the world’s song. Maybe they were those little notes of hope.
When the Deepfell finished her song, Hoku squeezed her hand gently.
“Thank you,” he said, looking into one of her deep, dark eyes. He’d never meant the words more.
Grandma Nani had always said that the Deepfell gave up their humanity to live in the deep ocean. Nani was wrong.
The Deepfell let go of his hand and smiled.
Thinking about his grandma sparked a memory. When she’d given him the water safe, she’d said,
Maybe it holds her memories of the Above World. Maybe it holds far more.
The space inside the box should have held much more than just a letter and a picture and a wooden dolphin. What if those items were decoys? The whole water safe seemed designed to look sentimental: the silvery mermaid on the lid, the letter, the photo. Grandma Nani said Sarah Jennings was smart. Well, he was smart, too.
He waved good-bye to the wounded Deepfell girl and sprinted back to the others.
W
HEN HOKU GOT BACK
to the command center, he ignored Aluna and Dash and even Zorro and headed straight for the water safe.
“Are you okay?” Aluna asked. “Did something happen?”