Above World (26 page)

She waded to the edge of the pool and hauled herself out. Something rustled. She peered into the shadow of a building and saw a short four-legged creature digging its nose through a pile of garbage. A dog! She’d seen animals like it at the Aviar stronghold, mostly begging near the eating tables or sleeping by the fires.

“What are you doing in this place, little one?” she asked him.

The dog paused in his hunt and looked up at her. A yellow stain covered the tip of his black-gray muzzle. His ears pointed straight up.

“Same as you,” the dog said. “Looking for munchies, dodging Gizmos.” He pointed to the pile of garbage with his snout. “This batch mine mine mine. Find your own.”

“Dogs talk?” Aluna said. None of the Aviar dogs had.

“Sure, yeah, dogs talk,” he said. “You been living under a rock, maybe?” He growled as he spoke, but it seemed more like a necessity of speech than a threat.

She shrugged. “Does under the ocean count?”

The dog’s tongue lolled out in a laugh. “Sure, yeah. Ocean even worse than a rock. Very wet. Very cold. Very bad.” Then he stopped and tilted his head to the side. “Wait. What Humans live in water?”

“I’m not Human. I’m a Kampii,” she said. “From the City of Shifting Tides.” And then, because he was still tilting his head, she added with disgust, “We’re mermaids.”

“Mermaids!” the dog said, his ears quivering. “Wait, no. What mermaid has legs?”

“We get our tails when we’re older,” Aluna said hastily. “You saw me come out of the water with your own eyes.”

The dog squinted at her, then bobbed its head once. “True, yeah. But no mermaids here. Not yet. You turn around and swim swim swim.” He motioned toward the pool with his snout. “Go now. Before he sees you and snatches you up.”

“No,” she said. “Fathom has my sister. I’m not leaving without her.”

The dog lowered his head and shook it sadly. “Many sorries,” he said. “My littermates all gone, too. Very sad. But Fathom is strong. Likes parts. All kinds of parts. Parts that make no sense. He takes and takes, even what he don’t need.”

“You know where he is? Can you take me to him?” Aluna asked.

The dog tilted his head again, thinking. It reminded her of Zorro.

“Sure, yeah,” said the dog, wagging his tail. His ears were perky again. “We goes now. Follow follow follow!”

H
OKU DIDN’T WANT
to enter HydroTek by the same route Aluna had chosen. He had no desire to confront Fathom head-on. That was Aluna’s way, not his. He and Dash and Zorro needed to find HydroTek’s nerve center, its technological core. Maybe restoring power to the Kampii’s breathing necklaces and defeating Fathom and his army would be as simple as pressing a button.

A boy could dream.

Prince Eekikee himself escorted them to the dome. A Deepfell warrior carried Dash so they could all swim faster. Hoku carried his satchel with the water safe. Zorro clung to his shoulder. The little guy didn’t need an air bubble and could swim well enough on his own, but not quickly. Besides, Hoku liked the feeling of Zorro’s small furry body clinging to his back. It made him feel less alone, and a tiny bit less scared.

Prince Eekikee hid them well in advance of patrols and killed a shark scout with only two thrusts from his spear. The Kampii hunters would do well to fear him; Hoku had never seen anyone so good with a weapon in his whole life. He was suddenly glad that Aluna wasn’t here to witness it as well, or she’d be talking about Eekikee’s prowess for the rest of their lives.

Eventually, they reached HydroTek, and Hoku’s heart soared like an Aviar. The very tip-top of the structure protruded from the water’s surface, but that glittery part didn’t interest him much. Not compared to what was happening underwater. There, HydroTek’s massive coils and artifacts pumped and hissed as if the great city itself were breathing. Intakes and outtakes moved water, creating a warm current that toyed with them as they got closer and closer to its maw.

But even as his chest swelled at the wonder, he had to ask: How could his ancestors build something so amazing when the Kampii could not? The city’s Elders knew how to maintain their artifacts, but they never made new ones. They could never build something like HydroTek, not even with all the Elders working together at once.

Unless . . . unless he found a way into the outpost and gained access to all the information Sarah Jennings had hidden. Then, maybe — if the Above World became a safer place — they could build something glorious.

“Alooooona,” Prince Eekikee said, and pointed toward the part of HydroTek above the surface. “You,” he said, pointing to the dome’s underwater innards.

Hoku grinned.

As they wove through HydroTek’s metal tendrils, Hoku touched everything within reach, marveling at how some metal was cold and some hot, how some artifacts vibrated and others seemed to hum. When they neared an intake tunnel barred with metal, Eekikee motioned everyone to stop.

The prince and the other Deepfell had little trouble bending the bars wide enough for Dash and Hoku to enter. They couldn’t get it wide enough for themselves, but that was fine. Hoku had never expected the Deepfell to enter HydroTek. Prince Eekikee had his own war to fight.

Hoku squeezed into the circular tunnel. Prince Eekikee helped Dash through the bars, careful not to break the breathing membrane over his face. Hoku nodded to Prince Eekikee and mouthed, “Thank you.” The prince smiled grimly in return. A moment later, he and the other Deepfell disappeared into the churning murk.

Without their guide, and confined in a dark metal tunnel, Dash seemed close to a panic attack.

Hoku pantomimed breathing slowly. If Dash’s breathing bubble popped, there’d be no one to make him a new one.

Dash swallowed and nodded, clearly trying to stay calm.

Hoku pointed to Dash’s eyes, then to his own feet. The horse-boy couldn’t hear him underwater, but he spoke anyway. “Focus on my feet, but don’t get too close. I don’t want to kick you in the head.”

Dash nodded and smiled weakly. A good sign.

Hoku started up the tunnel, using his hands to feel his way along the metal. It got darker as he swam, and soon even his Kampii eyes couldn’t find enough light to see the way.

“Zorro, make light,” Hoku said.

Crouched on his back, Zorro obeyed. His eyes glowed green to acknowledge the command and then yellow to illuminate the tunnel.

“Good boy,” he whispered. He had no idea how much of Zorro was animal and how much was machine, but he knew the little guy enjoyed a compliment and a good scruffle once in a while, so that’s what he got.

They made their way in silence. Hoku stayed focused on the tunnel in front of him. How many hours had they been swimming? Were the darkness and the cramped tunnel playing tricks on him? Were they heading straight for some kind of ancient industrial grinder?

Calm as Big Blue,
he told himself. That’s what Aluna would say. She never panicked at times like these. She wasn’t here now, so it was his job to stay calm all by himself. Besides, Dash needed him. And somewhere out there, Aluna and Calli and all the Kampii needed him, too.

Eventually the narrow tunnel joined with three others into a larger waterway. The prince had drawn him a diagram of this intersection, and he started breathing easier. They were going the right way. Maybe he wasn’t going to get them both killed after all.

Not long after that, they emerged in a place the Deepfell had called the Moon Pool. The air in the small room felt pressurized — just like the ocean — which seemed to keep the ocean from filling up the tiny chamber.

Dash popped up beside him, looking pale and wild-eyed. The horse-boy popped his breathing bubble with obvious joy.

“I hope I never have to do that again,” Dash said, and paddled with one hand toward the edge of the pool.

The room was brightly lit and contained piles of equipment — lots of unmarked crates and weird clothes that looked way too big for a person to actually wear.

“Swimming clothes,” Dash said. “For people who can’t breathe water.”

Hoku swam over to the lip of the water and pulled himself out. Zorro, eyes still glowing, hopped down onto the metal walkway.

“Zorro, stop making light,” Hoku said, and the raccoon’s eyes flashed green before he obeyed.

Dash, who had been drying himself off with a piece of cloth he had found, suddenly stopped and lifted his head. The motion caught Hoku’s attention. It looked as if Dash were sniffing the air.

“I hear something coming,” Dash said. “Something with eight feet.”

“Eight legs?” Hoku asked. Dash nodded.

He hadn’t heard anything, but he had long since learned to trust Dash and his odd skills. The horse-boy disappeared behind a large suit of swimming clothes. Hoku was about to do the same when a round hatch dilated open behind him.

T
HE CREATURE
that scuttled into the room was Human from the waist up. A Human girl with skin the color of dead coral and round black eyes with no irises. Her pale white head was bald, except for a patch of metal wires in the back that were gathered in a bunch.

Below the waist, the girl’s body became a crab. A giant red, evil-looking crab. A crab with eight chitinous legs for running and jumping and walking, and two huge claws for fighting and gripping. One of the claws held a large metal wrench.

“Ooh!” the crab girl said when she saw Hoku, and she dropped her wrench. It clattered against the metal floor so loudly that it made him cringe.

Hoku glanced over to where Dash had been, but the horse-boy stayed hidden. Hoku took a deep breath and tried to stop himself from screaming.
A Dome Mek,
he told himself.
She’s just a Dome Mek.

“Don’t hurt me!” he said. “I’m a friend!”

She raised her left eyebrow. “Friend?” she said. “I don’t have any friends.”

He felt a sudden pang of sympathy for this bizarre crab creature, but not enough of one to let his guard down.

“Well, I’m not a friend yet,” he said quickly. “I meant that I’m not an enemy. I don’t mean you any harm, and I hope you don’t mean me any, either.”

She lowered her eyebrow and clicked her eight legs a little closer to him. She had arms like a regular girl, but it was one of the big crab claws that swooped down and recovered her wrench.

“I’m not here to fight,” she said very matter-of-factly. “I’m here to fix a clog in drainage pipe alpha-six-foxtrot-four-one-zebra.”

“A clog?”

“Yes,” she said. “Water hasn’t been moving at the appropriate rate for the last hour. I was activated to clear the pipe and restore proper flow.”

He had a feeling he knew what had been causing that “clog,” namely him and Dash. But he wasn’t about to tell the Mek that, at least not while she was carrying a big wrench.

“You said you were ‘activated.’ What does that mean?” he asked.

The girl frowned, and her shoulders hunched slightly. “When we are not needed, Fathom turns us off in order to conserve power,” she said. “If my internal clock is correct, I was last activated more than eight-point-three-six months ago, to install a new lens in one of the camera sharks.”

“Camera sharks?” That must be what he and Aluna had seen in the waters around the Kampii outpost, the night before they left the city. Great White had been recording them! Then he remembered what else the crab girl had said. “You’ve been asleep for eight months? How long were you awake before that?”

“It took exactly thirty-three-point-seven-zero minutes to complete the installation,” she said with a sigh. “During the last two days I have been alive, three-point-three-six years have transpired.”

“That’s terrible,” Hoku said, and he meant it. Machine or not, no one deserved to be turned off.

The girl skittered closer, her eight legs moving in quick succession. “We used to be alive all the time,” she said. “We love the dome, and we love caring for it. Our ancestors built it. We are happy to dedicate our lives to its maintenance.”

Hoku kept his position as she got closer, despite a strong desire to jump back in the pool and hide. “What happened?”

“Sea Master Fathom,” she said. “He activates us only when there is a problem, and then only for as long as it takes us to fix it.” She definitely looked sad now.