The Waters Rising (68 page)

This meeting ended with her kissing her grandfather and promising to hold her temper.

“And I promise to keep the experimenters away from the subjects,” he said.

“They’re not
subjects
!” she snarled, forgetting her promise. “You see, even you’re doing it.”

Precious Wind and her colleagues were instructed to leave the sea-fertile people alone. Left alone, each one of the twelve managed to cope, either alone or with one another’s help. Over the next few days there was a good deal of group talk and group strolling and group eating and drinking tea, often with Xulai and Abasio. Within ten days six couples had coalesced from within the group, and Precious Wind had started to relax and spend more time with her wolves.

“W
e’ll have to take a ship to get back to Norland, won’t we?” Abasio commented to Xulai as they lay on their comfortable bed, looking out into the garden. “Blue was asking. He’s just recovered from being seasick last time.”

Xulai murmured, “We can’t really talk about going until you’ve made the sea change.”

His mind balked. He felt it happen. He’d seen Blue balk like that, stop dead when there was nothing much in front of him, and the comparison bothered him momentarily. “Why is it dependent upon that?” he asked. “You didn’t do it until you had to. Perhaps I won’t be able to do it until I have to, assuming it works at all. I’m the first male they’ve tried it on, remember.”

“That’s why,” she said rather sadly. “You’re the first one, and we have to know it works before I’ll go back. Why should I go, otherwise? Danger. Possible death. For what? I had a dream last night. I dreamed we got there and you couldn’t change. If you can’t change, it means giving eggs to the men may not work. You and my father have never changed even though you can supposedly father children who can change. Grandfather says the change part comes only from a sea egg. We need at least one man to change so we know they can!”

“It’s the sea egg that has the cephalopod genes in it, right?”

“Right. And I’m proof they work on at least one woman. Will it work on all men, or just some men, or any men at all? We need to know for sure. If it only works on ones like you and my father, then it presents another problem. Of course, Father’s going with us, too. You’re the only two we know of who are genetically . . . apt. If the eggs won’t work by themselves, we’ll have to put you both out to stud. If that’s the way it has to be, I’ve got to be emotionally prepared for it.”

“You’d put us to what?
You’ve
got to be prepared! By all that’s . . . You’ve been talking to Precious Wind!”

“Well, so? She just wants me to know what’s going on.”

Abasio rose and took his cloak from the back of the chair. “I’m going to see Blue,” he said.

“Abasio . . .”

“What!”

“Put on your trousers first.”

“I
t’s a compliment,” said Blue. “I don’t know what you’re so upset about.”

“Being put ‘out to stud’ is what I’m upset about. To talk that way about me, and about her father!”

“You’re looking at it from the wrong end. Usually, when horses get old, it’s, ‘Well, time for the knackers, old fellow.’ Being put out to stud is like the gardens of paradise.”

“I am
not
old. You don’t know what it’s like. You didn’t see what she turned into. What I’d have to turn into . . .”

“No, and I’ve been meaning to speak to you about that. It’s time I found out about what’s going on. My race is involved here as well as yours.”

“Very well. You’re perfectly right.” Abasio opened the stable door and bowed him out. “Come on, we’re going down to the shore. You can meet the Sea King.”

“From the shore!”

“Certainly from the shore. The shore is on an island, however. We’ll have to take a boat to the island.”

“Oh, no, no, no more boats! I’ve just gotten over being—”

“It’s not really a boat, and it’s not far. You’ll just have to put up with it if you want to know what’s happening.”

They went to the shore, where Abasio found a flat-bottomed barge sort of floating thing. He wasn’t sure what one might call it. A barn door with an edge around it, maybe. There were a good many seaside hangers-about available, several of whom were willing to row, scull, or pole the barn door out to the island. Blue was maneuvered aboard with some difficulty. He made the trip with his head down, refusing to look at anything but his feet. When they arrived, Abasio led him around the island and onto the little beach, where Blue kept on walking.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m walking. I’m going up and down this strip of sand in order to convince my insides that I’m on solid ground. Horses need solid ground. They need solidity. Stability . . .”

“Which is no doubt why they’re kept in stables.”

“Very funny, I’m sure.”

Abasio left him walking and went to the edge of the water, mentally rehearsing the words he had heard used before. When he had them well in mind, he shouted over the sea at the top of his voice, “Xaolat al Koul!”

Nothing happened for a time, then a dolphin came speeding toward the shore, thrashed himself up onto the sand, and asked, “You’re calling the Sea King?”

“Would you tell him, please, that Abasio would like to see him? I need to . . . discuss things with him.”

The dolphin squirmed back into the water and sped away. Abasio sat down to wait.

“He could be otherwise occupied,” said Blue.

“He could be very far away,” said Abasio. “We’ll wait.”

They did not wait long before the middle stone of a group of three just offshore began to move slowly toward them. The great mantle protruded above the waves, the huge eyes looked them over, the abyssal, echoing voice said, “You wanted to talk to me?”

“Yes, if you don’t mind,” said Abasio. “I’d like to introduce you to—”

“Ah. A horse. I have seen horses. What is your name, horse?”

“Blue,” the horse replied, clopping down to the waterside. “In certain lights this combination of black, gray, and white looks blue. Sometimes they call me Big Blue. You’ve seen horses?”

“Along the edge of the continent, yes. The horses there have been discussing what is important to them, so that if they are sea changed they will retain their essential equinity.”

“Horseness is important,” agreed Blue, nodding. “What have they decided upon?”

“They say speed is important to them. They say grazing is important to them. They say mating is important to them, though the stallions seem to believe it is more important than the mares do.”

“Oh, mares,” said Blue, shaking his head. “They always have to be whinnied into it. Or . . . subdued.”

“Why, Blue,” cried Abasio in an outraged voice. “That’s
rape
.”

Blue snorted. “I have long observed that human people do not care what they do in front of livestock, and believe me, what some humans do during mating makes horses look absolutely . . . gentle by comparison.” He stalked away and stood, front legs crossed, nose up, facing the sea.

“Isn’t Abasio your friend?” the Sea King asked him.

“Friends do not call their friends rapists,” said the horse without turning around.

“I’m sorry,” said Abasio. “Really.”

“You are getting more judgmental,” said Blue. “You need to watch that. Elderly people do get more judgmental.”

“Elderly!”

The horse turned to the Sea King. Pointedly ignoring Abasio, he said, “I should think hooves will be important. And teeth, for fighting.”

“Will it be necessary for you to fight?” asked the Sea King.

The horse looked embarrassed. “Usually there’s one stallion to a herd of mares and young,” he said. “Which stallion is a matter of who has the best hooves and teeth, usually.” He thought for a moment. “Though . . . with the waters rising, eloquence may become more important. It is with people like him.” He snorted in Abasio’s direction. “He probably just
talks
them into it.”

The Sea King asked, “Is mating strategy what brought you to talk with me today?”

“No, certainly not. Abasio came to talk with you today because Xulai doesn’t want to go back to Norland until she’s sure he can do whatever it is, change into something.”

Abasio interrupted. “I told her maybe I couldn’t do it until it became necessary. She didn’t do it until she had to, but she says it’s pointless to go without knowing . . .”

Blue snorted again. “But she wants to know he’s seaworthy before she goes for a cruise on him.”

“Blue! Really!”

“Well, she does. And I don’t blame her.”

“Let it go for now,” said the Sea King in a thoughtful and very soothing tone. “You sound very tense. You need to relax, Abasio. Do you swim?”

“I swim human-style, yes.” He had learned as a child, in the river. On the farm.

“Well, if Blue doesn’t mind waiting—and I think there’s some grass among the rocks at the back of the beach—you can get out of your clothes and come swim with me. One of the shell fishers left his face mask last time he was here. Over behind those stones, I think?” He pointed a tentacle. “Yes, that’s the one. It was one of the oystermen I believe, or maybe an abalone-ist or a mussel-eer. At any rate, he won’t mind your borrowing it.”

Abasio dropped his clothes behind the rock and donned the mask before somewhat apprehensively walking into the sea.

“Just swim alongside me,” said the Sea King. “I want to show you my castle.”

“You have a castle?”

“It’s a joke. I told Xulai all about it. She thought it was very funny.” He started away, rather slowly, letting Abasio thrash along behind him, turning his head every stroke or so to gulp air. They went out beyond the nearer rocks, not really very far. “Can you dive just a little so you can look?” said the Sea King.

Abasio took a breath, dived, went back up to laugh, then came down again.

“I didn’t build it,” the Sea King said through the water. “The dolphins did. They talked the corals into doing it. Though frankly, I don’t know how a creature that doesn’t have any brain at all can be talked into doing something. It took them quite a while; corals don’t grow overnight. The dolphins may merely have put food here, where they wanted the corals, I mean. Corals will grow toward food. The eels came all by themselves . . .”

Abasio had gone up for a breath. He came down again.

The Sea King continued. “There are lots of little deep holes in the castle for my children. That is, I suppose they are mostly my children. The other males of my species don’t come into this area, out of respect, but many of the females choose to anchor their egg cases here.”

They swam over the castle, seeing in the doors of its narrow tunnels many tiny octopi, who greeted them variously: “Who’re you?” “It got hans!” “Whasit?” “Wasse doin?” “Whasitname?”

The Sea King replied, “I’m your father, yes he has hands, he’s a drylander, he’s swimming, his name is Abasio.”

“Already very vocal,” said the Sea King with satisfaction as they moved away. “Breeding true, almost all of them. Come along, I’ll show you some of the laboratories.”

They dived deeper and Abasio was amazed to see lines of huge transparent bubbles anchored to the floor of the bay, each occupied by one kind or another of unfamiliar creatures.

“These are third-generation seadogs,” the Sea King said proudly.

“They have skinny tails,” Abasio exclaimed. “Not very good for steering.”

“For wagging. Notice the articulation of the front and rear legs. Sitting and wagging were specified by the canine design committee.”

“The design committee?”

“Of dogs. It seems to be a species thing.”

“How do they breathe?”

“See the gills all along the sides?”

“They have fur.”

The Sea King sighed. “Yes. They felt strongly about fur, as well. The fur does rather hide the gills. It cuts down their swimming speed as well, and the large ears are no help. In time, perhaps they’ll give the fur and ears up, though seals seem to have kept the fur with no problems. Seals are still dryland birthers, of course, which these will be, too. We can’t get away from that just yet. Young mammals have to suckle.”

“Whales manage. And dolphins.”

“Yes, but they’ve mastered that whole business of pushing the young to the surface to breathe, over and over. You know, whales have developed kinship or friendship bonds between mothers, daughters, and sisters so that one helps the other for the first few days until the single baby does it instinctively. Dogs, however, have litters, six to ten at a time. It presents an entirely different problem, and we haven’t figured out how to handle that yet.”

“They have flippers instead of feet.”

“They can walk on them very nicely. If, as I understand Xulai has suggested, there are ice floes in our future, the seadogs might bear their young on ice floes as seals and walruses and otters do now. Ice floes melt rather rapidly, however. They might not last long enough.”

“Sea King, Xulai has been talking about ice, yes, but not simply ice floes. I am told there is still more or less permanent ice as one goes to the far north. People used to live on that ice in the Before Time. The new oceans are less salty than the Before Time oceans. They should freeze even better than the old ones did, and Xulai wondered if there might not be room for people to live there. Out of water.”