THE OTHER BIG SECRET 1: MUST HE DIE? / CH. 3:NIGHTFALL
SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER THE 19TH, 1914. SUNSET
It had been Jacob's first party amongst the Sathzakara's people. He hadn't known what to expect, but he hadn't expected what it turned out to be.
There was music, and dancing. He'd sort of expected those things. But the music was all vocal. Sathzakara had sung an account of their trip across the plateau, of cutting the wire that carried 'talking spark'. She didn't mention Mabel, for which Jacob was grateful, or even of how the soldier had been incapacitated. What she spoke of was Jacob's use of his gift to see where the soldiers were and how they'd chosen the path they took, interspersed with a chorus about how silly she'd felt in the clothes which had people singing along by half way through the second repetition.
He realised after a while that it wasn't just an interesting way of telling the tale, but that it was also educational. Everyone who heard it would know about telegraphs, wedding rings, dress-codes among land-men, and last but not least, that the world was at war. He also realised that he'd not heard Sathzakara sing before, and was very pleasantly surprised by the quality of her voice. Perhaps he was biased, but he felt she was the best singer of the evening. He freely acknowledged bias regarding her unsurpassed beauty, but felt that was only to be expected. After taking their vows, and receiving congratulations from everyone, he asked her “Are you happy?”
“Yes, Jacob, very. I had not looked forward to being dragged anywhere in chains and being treated like a slave, even by one who felt affection for me. I had not looked forward to having to decide if I would try to kill a man for treating me like that, or stay with him just because he'd kidnapped me. I am very grateful you have reminded our people of this other way, and am amazed it ever died out.”
“Perhaps when it did people waited for a long time, as among my old people, and the young men grew impatient. And it is a harder decision, to take vows for life than after all, than to decide to take a companion until you bore of her. But I don't understand something. No, I don't understand many things.”
She smiled. “Yes?”
“I don't understand what you said earlier about you knowing things and not using them, I don't understand what you said about not using books much. I thought you didn't at all. I don't understand what the elders were saying about you training me to become one of you, either. Surely it can't be learned?”
“In part it is learning, preparing, but there is also something you must drink, a potion. It changes your muscles and your blood: they become darker. It is not pleasant for us, for you it will be probably be very painful. I don't know how long it will take for you. Perhaps there are records, I don't know. You never asked me what I was doing in that cave, and if you had I'd have refused to tell you. Now I can tell you: I was collecting an ingredient for the potion. As for the rest: we learned a lot of science from the Greeks, Jacob, and we were never taken over by the brutal Romans, or raided by barbarian hoards. I know you are proud of your steam engines, but the Greeks had them too, or at least the knowledge to make them. Some of our people continue to explore, but for most of us it is not relevant. The ocean is a hostile place and we are too busy staying alive to be civilised. But our great library was never destroyed, and we never had a dark age. So, we have books for things that most people don't need to know. They are not on paper, because it rots too easily, but on sheets that do not rot. And when our scavengers find a new device we pass it on to to be studied. Thus we keep track of the land-men. Now you have started to use spark, I expect the land-men will know most things our experts know, soon enough, which will make for some difficult decisions. Perhaps we will have to withdraw further, and there will be even less sightings of mermaids and mermen to liven up the fishermen's evenings.”
“Not to mention photography, and moving pictures.”
“Yes. We will probably withdraw eventually.”
“You don't think you will come out of hiding?”
“I don't think so. Perhaps a son or grandson of ours will travel in the world of land-men. It will probably not be too difficult still, but in every generation it becomes harder, and your diseases become stronger. Maybe when the land-men have conquered them, and when they no longer take slaves, or cut people up for being different, only then will we come openly from the sea.”
“I imagine it will cause quite a stir when that happens.”
“Indeed.” Sathzakara agreed, “But that's going to be a long time coming. More immediately, there's the little issue of us swimming or walking away somewhere.”
“Which is going to be rather difficult with soldiers all over the place, isn't it?”
“Slightly. Will you let me show you something that'll make that easier?”
“Of course. What is it?”
“You'll see. It's rather old, but still strong.”
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Jacob looked at the thing, bobbing in the water of the cave. It looked rather like a Grecian amphora lying on one side, except it seemed to be made of gold, and the proportions were wrong. And of course the size. It was about twenty yards long, and eight yards wide.
Then he realised that there was a pair of propellers at the tip. Where the neck would have been, there was a rounded end, with what seemed to be a series of pock marks, which he realised could be port-holes. There was what looked unmistakably like an airlock on top.
“A submarine! It's not actually made of gold is it?” he asked.
“Not really. There's a gold skin though. The Spaniards did seem to like overloading their treasure ships. Very handy metal, gold, when you're underwater.”
“It is some sort of submarine, isn't it?”
“Yes. Not very comfortable, not very new, but the elders say we can borrow it to start our little trip.”
“This.... When I first met you, my Sathie, I thought you had no technology much beyond fire. How does it move? Handles? Some kind of compressed gas?”
She smiled, “We're a constant source of surprises aren't we?”
“You are.”
“You'll have to ask the experts. It might even work by spark for all I know. All I know is that the scavengers use it to bring back stuff they can't carry. It can go for about a day there and a day back, much further and you end up pushing or trying to persuade a whale to help you get home. That's no fun, I assure you.”
“Persuade a whale?”
“You land-men use horses, and dogs to pull things, don't you?”
“Yes, but...”
“Whales are much stronger and smarter. We are not impressed with you land-men for killing so many of them, by the way.”
“Urm, I don't know what to say. I guess it never occurred to us that someone else found them useful.” He thought a bit, about how the buffalo trade had been carried out. “And I expect that a lot of people wouldn't actually care, unless you proved you could beat us in a war or ten. Land-men are like that, I'm afraid, our governments are too concerned with national pride and getting an advantage over the other nations. We learned too much from the Romans, I guess.”
“If we were to choose to fight you, you've got numbers on your side. If we choose not to fight you, you'd see it as weakness. Hence we avoid you.”
He looked at the control surfaces, the periscope, and what might be a snorkel.. “And you have a submarine, which looks very functional. How old is it?”
“A few hundred years old.”
His draw dropped. “You've had submarines hundreds of years?”
“Oh, longer than that.” she said dismissively.
“We've not had them very long at all, not useful ones. Well, I guess we've got ones that are more useful than this if it can only go for a couple of days. Ours have internal combustion engines now, so they can go thousands of miles.”
“Internal combustion engines? Are those the smelly noisy things which leave smoke behind them?” Sathzakara asked.
“They are noisy, yes, and they make smoke.”
“This is a quiet boat, and we like quiet. There are some which go further, of course, but this one does all we need. At least, I hope it does. Shall we go in?”
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“Where's the crew?”
“The what?”
“Who's going to drive it?”
“We are. Come on, it's not hard.”
“Where are we going to go to?”
“I wondered about that. Is there anyone on the island where we first met? That would be nicely circular, don't you think?”
“I'll check.” He did, and found one, investigating further he found it was a young man, watching sheep while thinking lustful thoughts about not being alone here.
“There's a shepherd there, watching sheep.”
“Oh, that one. He's not likely to visit the beach.”
“How do you know?”
“Sheep don't eat sand.” she pointed out reasonably.
“No.”
“And he's learned that coming too near the beach is bad for his sheep, too.”
“Bad for his sheep?”
“They seem to have a habit of vanishing.”
“You steal them?”
“Not exactly, no. Do you call it stealing when your people catch a shoal of fish in the deep ocean?”
“But... fish are just fish, aren't they?”
“Some of them are, others aren't. And sheep are just sheep: tasty and nutritious land animals. We are teaching the man a proper respect of our beach. We don't go onto the other side of the island, but if he comes into our territory then he pays with a sheep.”
“But he doesn't know you're here.”
“His forefathers will have told him. It's been our policy a long long time.”
“I still don't really understand why anyone would keep sheep out there on an island.”
“It keeps them safe — as long as they stay on that side, and it's good grazing land, too, I guess. Did anyone try to tell you not to go onto the beach, by the way?”
“Oh yes, they said that it was a bad place, and there were dangerous creatures that lived there. I asked what sort and one of the fishermen said sharks and another said no it was wolves. I asked if anyone had ever seen them, and the third said he didn't know what lived there, but whatever it was I probably wouldn't come back. But since they'd have to look for me, could they have more money please? I gave them what they wanted, said I was expecting to meet some people, and didn't need looking for. I also told them it sounded like a lot of superstition and I was an educated man, and wasn't afraid.”
“And you weren't.”
“No.” And feeling not at all afraid, he ventured to kiss her.
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Inside the submarine wasn't as splendid as the golden exterior might have suggested. It was functional, spartan, even. Mostly it was cargo space, with nets and baskets to hold scavenged treasures. There were plain wooden seats, polished with use, in front of a series of levers and four gauges. He guessed that one would be depth, others, perhaps, might be air supply, speed, direction? He couldn't really guess. The port-holes weren't very large, but it was clear that they provided quite a good view around the sub, including behind and below, he saw.
He'd half expected to see pumps and gears and rocker-valves, but there wasn't any of that. He realised how Sathzakara hadn't been able to tell what powered it. He couldn't, either — there was just no way to tell, without looking behind panels that Sathzakara told him he shouldn't touch.
“When we get back, I'll introduce you to the people who feed and water this little baby, Jacob. In the mean time, don't poke into its secrets. You might not understand what it is and break something.”
“But just looking....” he pleaded.
“Could actually kill us both, if you accidentally open something with the sea on the other side, couldn't it?”
“Yes, beloved.” he sighed in resignation. “How can I help?”
“Crouch down just there, and look out of those three windows,” she pointed “and tell me if there's anything or anyone in the way.”
“Yes, Maam.”
She had been right, the submarine was very quiet. It slipped below the water with hardly a sound except some hisses as she adjusted some controls. He was entirely convinced that the submarine wasn't powered by any technology he recognised. No hiss of steam, no explosions, not even the whine of a turbine. He couldn't even hear the hum of a motor or grinding of gears that he'd expect with an electric drive, yet somehow they were moving.
Low speed compressed air? It was possible, he supposed. And yet they were already moving quite fast.
“Is this how you brought me? I know you gave me some kind of sleeping draft, but I felt like you'd tied me to some kind of barrel.”
“Good guess. I did.”
“And you always carry a sleeping draft with you?”
“No. I mean, it's a standard stuff from our medical kits, but I don't remember why I had a medical kit with me. Can we say it was God?”
“Of course.”
“No, stop grinning up at me, and look where we're going!” she chided “I don't want to end up in someone's fishing net, and you've got the best view.”
A minute or so later he said “What's that? Anchor cable? And another one?”
Sathzakara stopped the propellers, and looked from porthole to porthole tracing the cable up.
“It's not a boat.” she declared, there's a funny looking sea-urchin on the end of each cable. They're new.”
“A mine?” he guessed.
“A what?”
“Anti-ship explosive. Probably set off by something touching one of the spikes.”
“Why might they put them here?”
“They don't want enemy ships coming here. I guess they don't want any ships coming here. Do lots of ships come along this channel?”
“No. It doesn't go anywhere except our village.”
“But the cliffs above your village do have good views, don't they? I can imagine someone deciding it would make a good military outpost. Maybe even a gun emplacement.”
“So why the mines?”
“To stop people attacking the planned outpost?”
“I don't like the thought of this.” Sathzakara said, then asked “Can you find out if it's true?”
Jacob thought for a while “Maybe. I'll look for people who think your village is in a strategically important place.”
“Who aren't mer.”
There were hundreds, thousands even. Both armies that were lining up to fight thought it. [{image}See, dearest one?]
[{fear} It is bad enough that armies fight on our hunting grounds, and now they put explosives in the water to kill ships and any mer near-by, and they seek to claim our cliffs too? We must return, and quickly!]
[Would it not be faster if I spoke to the elders?]
[Please Jacob, do.]
[So much for our honeymoon...] he thought regretfully.
[We will have to sleep sometime, my life-bonded.]
[Yes. I just pray it will be private.]
[It had better be.] she agreed.
Jacob called the elders [Respected elders of my adopted people. Sathzakara and I have found metal things like enormous sea-urchins floating but with anchors, at the entrance to the channel from the village. They are explosive devices, intended to kill ships who seek to get into the channel. If they touch one they will explode and will also kill any life in the water caught nearby. The reason for this can only be that the channel is so important to them that they want no one in it, even their own ships. I have looked, the soldiers who will do battle tomorrow hope to win the cliff above the village. Surely they will have seen the caves in it an will seek to use them to place big guns in, to kill ships in the main channel. Should we return?]
[Light is failing.] declared the chief elder [Not even your life-bonded could navigate you back in the dark, spend the night where you can and return in the morning, it is enough. We will not be needing the little boat tonight.]
After Jacob had passed that on to Sathzakara, he asked “Beloved, what do we do, then? Can we stop near here, or shall we go on to the island?”
“We go on. The beach isn't far and it's a safe place to spend the night, this is not.” She started the propellers, slowly edging towards a gap in the mines' anchor lines, and staying as close to the bottom as she could.
“I had planned to cook for you on this trip, but...”
“But there will not be time.” she said firmly. “And cooking is something we can do in public. The elder was right, it's getting dark quickly, keep your eyes to the outside please. Are there any more hazards?”
“What looks like a sunken ship coming up, slightly to the left.”
“Good, we're close then.”
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Sathzakara gently guided the submarine into a little alcove in the beach, and said, “Time to take a little swim, my love. I need to tie our boat down. We're about a hundred yards from the beach. Do you want to go ahead and start looking for some dry wood, or wait for me here?”
“I'd like to swim with you, my beloved. I know it's not as efficient, but...”
“But this evening isn't about efficiency is it?” she smiled back at him.
“No.”
“But speaking of efficiency, you'd be able to swim a lot better, and would dry quicker, if you adopted our dress.”
With the screams of his up-bringing against going native echoing in his mind, reluctantly, he agreed, “I suppose you're right. But I don't think I'll be able to swim without kicking my legs, not without a lot of practice. I'm not sure now is the time, really.”
“I'll teach you, my live-bonded, but you're right. A hundred metres of deep water isn't the best place to practice. You do know it's not real fish-skin, don't you?” she asked, with a little smile.
“It's not?”
“No. It's a sort of rubber, the scales are just traditional, well, they are supposed to help too, but mostly it's tradition. We haven't used real fish skin for a very long time. And you, my life-bonded, have the right to put your hands on me to feel it's not real slimy smelly fish skin.” She reached towards him with both hands and firmly put his hands on her hips. She was right, it didn't feel like fish skin. He tried to work out what he felt about standing so close to her, touching her like this. She was his wife, they'd be closer than this later on, he was sure. But... it still felt like he was trespassing; even though he knew he wasn't. They belonged to each other now, so he pushed his reticence aside and held her. As he breathed the wonderful perfume of her hair, he thought [I love you, my Sathie.]
[That's good, Jacob. I love you too.]
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The village needed to move, that was the decision of the elders. If there would be soldiers exploring the caves, which were used as living quarters, then either the caves would need to totally emptied or there would need to be rock-falls to hide their presence. All trace of the mer-people must be gone. It was a terrible thought, but everyone knew it must happen: there was no real alternative if they wanted to remain undiscovered.
The only real questions were how, when and where to. When... the best time, they decided, would be during the coming battle. Hopefully everyone would be concentrating on that, and not see unusual activity at the water's edge. Where to... there was only one place of refuge large enough, unless they wanted to move just down the coast. Some people spoke in favour of that, but really, everyone knew it wasn't going to happen. The thousand mer refugees would need to pick up all they had and travel to the place few had seen: they called it Atlantis, after the ancient myth. The mer-university, centre of learning and manufacture, which also became a refuge in times of trouble. It was where the brightest and the least adapted to the semi-barbarian village life went. Some of those who left returned to village life as people set apart — technicians or “experts “. But going to Atlantis meant change. Atlantis wasn't a friendly place for refugees, but it was the place for discussion and planning of what to do next. There would be no comfortable coves or peasant pastures to walk in, for Atlantis was never near a coastline. As long as they stayed, they'd be assigned roles as food gatherers, factory workers, or guards, and their lives would be mostly lived in the alien domes of the submersible, mobile city. It had the space, but most people preferred to live away from that strange place. This time, though it might be different. This time, it might be that the mer would change oceans as they had once before. Perhaps this time it was time to move even further away.