THE OTHER BIG SECRET 3: SAFELY OUT AT SEA / CH. 5: PRESS RELEASE.

TUESDAY, 17TH JULY, 2277

“Hi, Tony. Thanks for dropping by. This one's not an exclusive.” Pete said, handing him the press release crystal, “But, on the other hand, you actually got here only five minutes after the courier left, and you're one of the few people with much chance of getting an interview out of Sarah, she and John took most of the pictures themselves, so maybe there's some advantage.”

“Hey, April fools day was months ago, Pete.” Tony said, looking at the first line of text, before scanning down to see the pictures.

“For further corroboration, see also military exclusion zone just introduced by the U.N. Security Council, and speak to the national government of your choice.” Pete said.

“This is utterly crazy, Pete.”

“Fun, isn't it! I really need to thank Sarah for getting me involved in this. Two major world-changing news stories in one lifetime! There ought to be something on the government news site about ten seconds after the first person calls for confirmation. It won't have any actual content, just report that following recent events, and in confirmation of information given to the press, a new embassy will be established on the coastline in the next few days.”

“Why are you distributing this on a crystal?”

“Three reasons: Number one, it keeps people like you employed, number two the network operators declined the idea of hosting a single site that the whole world would probably visit. Number three: there's a world-wide coordinated release time that if you use or plan to use any of the material you're contractually committed to. That's in the first paragraph that you probably didn't read yet. Oh, number four: it not being on some site actually makes it less likely that there's a substantial leak. Enjoy working with that data, there's probably enough for about three hours of programming there before you add in the commentators. And you've got water-sports angles, technology, historical, social, medical, industrial, cultural, the lot.”

“Sarah can verify this stuff?”

“She's been there. John too. This is a whole civilisation that last spoke to the rest of us around the time of the rise of the Romans. They kept their records safe, and have decided we're maybe civilised enough to talk to now.”

“When's the release date?”

“You've got until Friday to work it all out. To add to the excitement, if all goes well tomorrow, and the thousand year old fusion reactor (with some adjustments suggested by a late-Victorian, early-Edwardian steam engineer-cum-missionary) all works properly, then the city of Atlantis will start moving, and on Monday, there will be a limited number of tickets available for the press and maybe heads of state and the like to take a trip to see round the city for themselves.”

“At exorbitant fee, I presume?”

“Actually, no.”

“Then?”

“The transport fee has been set at ten kilos of high quality chocolate. Tickets are available to I quote 'Reporters of high moral integrity both in their professional and private lives. The oldest law of our people is that an oath-breaker is shark or shark-food, such people need not apply. Oaths must be kept.'”

“Shark or shark-food?” Tony asked.

“Happy reading. There's a whole section on it in the culture section.”

“Thank you, Pete. I presume there's some sort of covering letter for this little bomb-shell?”

“Oh, yes. Here it is. It just highlights the release limit and what to expect to see on the Palace network site as confirmation.”

“I wonder what Albert's going to say.”

“What I'm really hoping is you're going to offer me the chance to film him finding out.”

Tony laughed, “Come on, let's go and see what he thinks to the idea.”

----------------------------------------

N.W.N. OFFICE.

“Albert, Pete here wants to be spy on the wall while I deliver a little package he's been working on for the last few days.”

“Not on my own.” Pete said.

“By the way.” Tony added “On the way here I checked with the palace press office. So either their majesties' press office are in on the joke or it's real. I've also managed to arrange an interview with a certain publicity-shy millionairess to ask how she got the invitation to take most of the pictures. But apparently that's not going to be an exclusive either, sorry.”

“Release limited until 14:00 Universal Coordinated Time on Friday, I see.”

Albert said “Why then?”

“Almost all of the world is awake.” Pete said. “Note the small print that says organisations in countries where that's not the case may either delay, or pre-announce that a significant announcement in world history is going to be made at that time.”

“So, global coverage?”

“Yes.”

“What's in it for us?” Albert asked.

“Depends if we're a serious news channel or not, Albert.” Tony said.

“Oh go on, tell me.”

“No, I want you see your reaction to reading it, just like every other editor who's getting it by courier about now.”

“And would it be OK if I get it on video?” Pete asked. “Just to preserve the event. You don't need to agree to me publishing it or anything.”

“As long as I can claim total and absolute privacy later.” Albert said, dropping the crystal into his reader. A minute later, during which his mouth twitched once or twice, he said “Someone's put a lot of work into this. Tony, were you serious about the palace site, or is this just a local wind up.”

“I'm serious about the palace site.”

“Mrs Williams is a relative of Eliza, isn't she? I wonder how they persuaded his Majesty to agree to it.”

“I invite you to contact a number of the other governments of your choice, Mr Campbell.” Pete said.

“Eeeny meeny... Israel.”

Tony found the Israel press office network site. “Five minutes ago, Albert.” he showed him the official press release:

'Significant archaeological find: treaty and trade agreement signed between King Solomon ben David, king of Israel, Hiram king of Tyre and the ruler of Ophir puts end to debate about historicity of King David. Carbon dating confirms date.'

“That's not the sort of thing they'd say as a joke, Albert.” Tony pointed out.

“No.”

“A copy of the treaty is included under the history section.”

“Get Jack in here.” Albert demanded. Tony smiled as he was on his way to do that. Jack was the Middle East reporter, who'd just returned from Israel.

----------------------------------------

“Jack, tell me more about what you heard.”

“Didn't make much sense to me. Enormous hulabaloo in the Knesset, all reporters banned. All I got was something about an old treaty or covenant, and what they ought to do about it. Trade and industry were involved, so was military, to guess by who was absolutely refusing to talk to anyone about anything.”

“Thanks, Jack. Now, exhibit one, press release from their government, about ten minutes ago.”

“Urm, OK. That's interesting.”

“Exhibit two, press release from our government.”

“I don't see the link.” Jack said.

“Exhibit three. Press release from grinning man with camera and unnamed others, delivered to Tony half an hour ago. Please tell me that in your best judgement this is purely coincidence, and it's all a big crazy joke.”

“You've got a copy of the treaty? How did that happen?”

“Part of the package, click back, scroll around.”

“I see other treaties, oooh, that's not very diplomatic from Rome. I notice a trend though. They've found an archive of some ancient, unheard of sea power? Egypt, Greece, Rome, that's pretty impressive.”

“You've heard of them, all right.” Albert growled. “That's what makes it so crazy. Click out to the top level.”

“Wasn't I there? Oh!” he swore “This has to be a wind up!”

“So, what are Israel doing, what's our government doing?”

“What does Athens say?” Jack asked.

“I've no idea.” Tony replied, looking up the Greek government's press releases. “Urm.. Albert? What do you think?”

Albert read aloud “Dozens of priceless works revealed, international treaty signed to enable rolling loan to Athens museum. A new renaissance in classical study expected to begin. Archaeologists, classicists and historians, and holiday makers are expected to be flooding to Athens over the coming years as a rolling loan scheme begins, in August, starting with the historical works of Andiclides of Athens, previously believed lost to the world. More details of the discovery will be released on Friday.”

“Well, they moved quickly,” Pete commented, “the last I heard that was just an idea.”

“'Holiday makers flooding to see the books' might be overstating it, I expect.”

“Depends how they handled other aspects, I expect, and what they managed to squeeze into the treaty.”

“It's looking real to me, Albert.” Jack said.

“You know, this might change the world more than the last one, Pete?” Albert said.

“I know. Fun time to be in the news business, eh?”

“Right!” Albert yelled to his secretary, “Cancel all programming for after two o'clock universal time on Friday, whenever that is. Call all top analysts and programme makers in here. History's about to be made and we're going to report it properly.

Tony, when's your interview?”

“One o'clock.”

“Great. Stay as long as you can. Pete, sorry I think we're going to need you gone.”

“That's fine, Albert. Thanks for the video.”

“Send me a copy, will you? We might want to do a 'behind the scenes' on this one day.”

“My pleasure.”

----------------------------------------

1PM, CONFERENCE ROOM, GEMSMITH H.Q.

“Hello, Myra. I didn't expect to see you here.” Tony said.

“That's a coincidence, I didn't expect to be here either. I was going to be doing a minor follow-on piece on a GemSmith subsidiary's purchase of a derelict campsite. Last week I arranged to meet the project manager on site, I couldn't contact him this morning to confirm, but went anyway and got redirected here by someone from Internal Security. Do you have any idea what's going on?”

“Urm, yes. World history is about to get a few more chapters, maps are about to go out of date, and all books on mythical creatures are now almost certainly incorrect. Oh, and anyone linking mermaids to dugongs is probably going to get sued for defamation, racism, or something.”

“You're not making a lot of sense, Tony.”

“Would you prefer me to say mer-men, mer-women and mermaids only wear tails to swim with? Or that Atlantis is due to start moving tomorrow, and there might be a chance to visit, starting on Monday. Sarah got back last week, apparently.”

“Tony, that's not funny.”

“No. But it's apparently true.” Tony informed a confused Myra.

Sarah entered, “Welcome, Myra, Tony. Sorry for the joint interview, but I thought there's bound to be some overlap. Myra, your channel's had a press release this morning, assuming the courier's not got lost. Your piece was going to go out on Friday, wasn't it?”

“Yes, why?” Myra asked.

“It's almost certainly not going to get run, sorry. Pushed off whatever slot it had by the press release, assuming your editor doesn't assume it's a total joke. Please consider this interview as a replacement.”

“Sarah, what's going on? Tony was saying some rubbish about mermaids and Atlantis....”

“OK, Myra, Tony, let me fill you both in on ancient family history. You might have noticed that 'Emerald' crops up a lot in the GemSmith business, especially in the older parts. Some of the recent divisions have added other gems, but there's Emerald accounts services, Emerald consulting, and Emerald health insurance, and so on. That's because it was an emerald that saved my lots-of-great-grandfather's business. It was a family heirloom, a necklace with an emerald so big everyone assumed it had to be glass, or it'd be in a museum. Initially it was found, allegedly, in a chest of pirate treasure. The finder gave it do his daughter to play with, thinking, oh, some child's glass pretty thing. The man who was to become the brother in law of a further back grandfather of mine saw it, and offered his friend another necklace that had a one or two carat diamond in it, and then gave it to his future wife, a woman called Rose. She then passed it to her niece, Amanda, who passed it to her youngest daughter, who married, and then for a while it was passed from mother to daughter in law, with a rumour that it was real. Eventually, when the owner's husband was in financial trouble after his partner ran off with half the stock, they had it properly valued and sold it. Debts were wiped out, the rest got invested in what turned into became GemSmith.

“About three weeks ago I was contacted by a descendent of Amanda's second daughter, who filled me in with the pre-Rose side of the story. Her side of the family had been keeping very good records, all the way back to an English missionary's family Bible from the beginning of the nineteen hundreds. He'd felt called to leave home to find a specific isolated tribe and translate the Bible for them. Before feeling the call to mission, he'd been an engineer.

After he'd learned their language after five years a prisoner, he married the barbarian warrior woman who'd caught him in the first place, and had taught him their language. Are you with me so far?”

“Yes.” Myra agreed. “How did she know you were you?”

“Oh, they'd kept in touch with Amanda's side of the family, apparently, and suggested the emerald be sold... It wasn't very hard for them to work out who was the GemSmith heir.

“So, this missionary-engineer knew knew there were some odd things about his wife, that she could hold her breath a surprisingly long time, and she and her people often wore fish-tail-like skirts to help them swim. He also knew that her tribe claimed to have been isolated a long long time, although at the time they were on the edge of the Aegean sea. They called themselves mer. So, OK, he was marrying a warrior maid of the mer, who wore a fish-tail sometimes, and maybe he wasn't really sure if he was marrying an amazon or a mermaid or just a beautiful woman who'd shown him a lot of kindness over the years and had become a Christian. He had grand plans and hoped that more would respond to the gospel and that one day, he might be able to teach them some modern technology beyond their simple bronze-looking knives and spears, like the wonders of practical steam engines. Then, world war one rolled onto their beautiful island, and the village elders said something to the effect of 'Oh bother, we'll have to go to Atlantis, that's no fun'. And this poor man discovered that not only had he only seen the barbarian side of his wife's family and life, but they had fusion power when the closest he had to any relevant knowledge was an article or two he'd read about strange things called cathode rays and X-rays. He did see one thing in Atlantis that he understood. The city-submarine was moved by a set of the most humongous Sterling engine pumps you can imagine, which had real problems with starting properly when their regenerator was cold. Also, he discovered that although they had slide valves operated by the timing wheels they only pumped in one direction, which made stopping tricky. Pistons, levers, valves, high pressure gasses, now that was something he was really familiar with, whereas at the time the plasma and forcefield physicists' attitude was 'Hey, this is all ancient mechanics. The instruction manual says heat up the reactor to five percent power, count to five hundred and then kick there, and it mostly works after the twentieth try, so that's what we do.' He shook his head in disgust and went and talked with metal workers and engineers instead. He retrofitted the valves with something rather like a Stephenson link reversing mechanism to control the inlet and outlet valves, so they could apply reverse thrust, and added a massive cogwheel connecting the multiple pumps so that they had to stay in step with each other, which otherwise had been a bit hit or miss.

“He also did that rather cleverly, so that while the power cylinders were linked to the valves, the regenerators could be driven separately while they were heating, which largely got rid of a lot of problems with starting it all. The wheel's a lightweight alloy and runs on frictionless magnetic bearings, so that even if there's some problem with multiple ways of starting it from electric motors to compressed air, actually a few dozen strong men could start it. Here's a picture of his wheel, from a long way away. The reactor and pump chambers are deep in the rock, as you might have guessed, this is just the timing gear. Those little dots are people.”

“That's impressive engineering.” Tony agreed.

“His wife, meanwhile, had become a major leader of her people and a great evangelist. Quite an interesting style. She basically told the people, 'Remember our old neighbours, the Perizzites, Jebuzite, Amorites, Canaanites and Hivites who God destroyed before Moses? Have you noticed that our live-style has almost descended to their level? Have you noticed that we're so busy killing each other over honour or insult that we don't pay attention to most of our lessons? Shouldn't you at the back have been listening to me, without me having to use a blow-dart you?'”

“She'd actually blow-dart people who weren't paying attention?” Tony asked.

“Apparently so. A fast-acting muscle relaxant, harmless, but embarrassing, apparently. I bet some teachers would love to be able to do it to the kids who can't stop talking. One dart and then they can't do much more than flop on the ground and breathe for ten minutes or so. Anyway, once they'd made sure the talker at the back wasn't going to drown in his own vomit or anything like that she'd continue 'Shouldn't we pay some attention to God when he lets a war roll on top of us? Shouldn't we remember that we're supposed to be waiting for a serpent crusher, who'd bring God's belessing to all nations? Shouldn't we have noticed that he came almost two thousand years ago and we were so busy running away from land-men and each other that we never even paid attention?'

“Since they did remember what the Perizzites and co were like, that rather hit home, because they'd really looked down on them at the time. And so when she went on to tell them about Jesus, they turned to him. The entire population, eventually. There are some nominal Christians among them, but her husband had done a pretty decent job of the Bible translation by the second revision, and they took an oath never to return to idolatry. And oaths have to be kept, that's their most basic law.”

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

“So, anyway, my distant relative contacted me and said, 'Hi, cousin, we remember Rose's emerald, do you? And you know that interceptor? It's going to land on our city, maybe going bang, and our reactor and sterling engine is in bits for its twice-a-lifetime maintenance cycle, and when we put it back together we're going to have to move quickly. We've been hiding from you land-men an awfully long time, but we can't do that any more. Please come and help us work out how to not get blown up by some scared submariner sent to investigate strange heat signals, who we ought to talk to about not getting nuked, and anything else you can think of about emerging into the modern world without destroying each others cultures or economies. Speaking of which, are diamonds rare among you? What about gold? And is it true that chocolate isn't really worth its weight in gold up there?”

“You're exaggerating.” Tony said.

Sarah looked at Myra who guessed “Supply and demand?”

“Exactly. One or two chocolate bars, carefully dropped by people who'd left Atlantis to their relatives who were lurking under piers and such, compared to going to the estuary of some river which runs through gold country and moving some rocks.”

“So chocolate is really really valuable there?”

“Not any more. You know those people who'd left? They got called home too, each one thought they'd make their relatives rich with a suitcase full of chocolate. Lots of happy teenagers breaking out in spots, but no one got rich. It did prove one thing though. Trading controls are absolutely necessary. The economies are too divergent.”

“Really necessary, or just desirable?” Myra asked.

“You tell me. They've got three thousand years of practice using different alloys, and they've got some really really good ones. Their strongest and most corrosion proof one, they use as the outer most layer of the pressure hull on their submarines. In terms of properties, it makes steel look a bit like well, rusty useless stuff. It's got quite a lot of gold in it. So a tiny little one or two person sub takes three hundred kilos of the stuff, and say your average family run-about submarine, sleeps six people in reasonable comfort, more if you sleep on the floor, takes more like two tonnes. Everyone wants a submarine, of course, since there's no public transport infrastructure under the sea, and families want to get away on holiday to do some serious swimming in the sun. Plus, of course, with everyone a reservist, submarines are a vital part of their defense strategy. So, they use massive quantities of gold per capita. Their government encourages gold prospecting, since it effectively builds the military for no government expenditure. In a total free market, you'd end up with people swapping their submarine for a beach-front property. But that submarine is a defence secret, so they won't do that, but maybe they'd take the gold they've collected over the decades, and rather than buy a submarine, they'd find a nice home on the beach. They pay with their ton of gold. Everyone is happy. Except that they're not used to paying property taxes, they're used to paying for government services by public service, usually in the form of food collection or the odd bit of other manual labour. The land-government aren't going to like their tax paid in fish, or raw farm produce, and the average family man won't ever be able to find a job where he can afford the taxes on a house he bought with a ton of gold. Especially not without the submarine that they might have bought with the gold they don't have any more. And they can't borrow their neighbour's sub, like they do at the moment, because their neighbour is in exactly the same situation.

Take it to the extreme, and what do you get? An entire beach-front of mansions lived in with people who can quite happily support themselves by fishing, but can't pay their tax bills: a total culture clash. Accusations on both sides. You also get a defense crisis for the mer people because the gold they've been collecting is now flowing out of their economy. On our side of things, you get massive inflation in the beach-front property market, combined with a temporary collapse in the price of gold as people think this new influx of gold is going to last. Of course it doesn't. And although their per-capita consumption of gold is high, it is nothing to our total consumption of it. So they get an economic and defence crisis, and we new category of people living in beach-front paradise, indebted to a government where they're not citizens, who are never going to see all the gold they purchased their homes for because our appetite for gold has pushed the price up again, and the property prices have gone way down as the market realises that they're going to be selling soon.”

“So, you'd see trade restrictions as desirable for us, necessary for them?”

“I think it's necessary for both sides, to keep the peace. Since gold is a strategic defense resource for them, they've taken a simple step: trade in physical gold is now outlawed for them. Gold used to be one more barter item, now, the government has started a national bank that will accept gold and issue money, which they've named the Pearl. The Pearl is intended to eventually be internationally traded, but the amount in circulation will be linked to the physical amount of gold in the reserves, and the price of the submarine will be linked to the amount of the gold in it. So, in some ways it will be linked to the gold standard, but it will be the mer gold standard, not ours, with them envisaging a permanent barrier between the two. For the moment, the Mer government is suggesting that in the interests of not confusing everyone, the Merfolk use whatever they like amongst themselves, and land-currencies when dealing with land-folk.”

“Does that mean that they may not buy and sell jewelery?”

“No. But the value of jewelery has normally been higher than the value of raw gold. But even then, use of jewelery as just trade-goods has been banned.”

“Normally?”

“There have been times among them when raw gold was more highly valued, as it was normally pretty pure and jewelery might not be. It depends on supply and demand, as you can imagine.”

“You spoke of barter, and this currency as an unusual thing. Do I understand that they are unused to a currency-based economy?”

“Yes. They are used to bartering gold for chocolate, diamonds for favours, fish for music lessons, and so on. In the past they have had currencies, but they prefer the simplicity of barter.”

“So... how do they save up a ton of gold? Surely not under their beds!”

“No. Well, not everyone. They are well aware of the concept of promissory notes.”

“But a family would not perhaps take out a loan for a boat?”

“From where would they borrow the gold? From another family who are also trying to collect enough to build a boat next year, or this year if they find a good pocket?”

“But you must be aware of economic value of credit.”

“Yes, of course. But until now there has been no central bank. There has been no need for a police force, standing army, or most other expensive aspects of government. The needs of researchers, teachers, doctors and archivists are met by the community service of those who are not in this category. The needs of engineers, metal-workers, and so on are met by their fees for what they produce. They in turn may pay others to do their community service.”

“So there is effectively a tax of work?”

“Yes.”

“So what of the poor?”

“What poor?”

“I'm sorry... are you suggesting there no poverty among them?”

“Not as such. Everyone healthy is able to catch fish, very effectively, or go gold prospecting assuming they can hitch a ride with someone. The sick or elderly are looked after by their families, or if they are without a family a friend or neighbour will step in.”

“But what of wealth creation, small businesses, and so on?” Myra asked.

“Myra, to put it their words, they are a high technology hunter-farmer-gatherer society, where they only introduced mass production two hundred years ago and they're not sure they're going to keep it. I asked a lot of them what their ideal life looked like, and universally their initial response was 'catch some fish, swim without being afraid of being seen, scare away the sharks.' after that it was a little more varied: 'teach the children, pick up some gold or gems, make pretty stuff, find stuff out, get this to work better, work out how to manipulate that atomic force.”

“But...” Myra objected.

“They are a small nation, the sea is large, and they are farmers and apex predators in a way that we've never been. They have been horrified at our wastefulness, our wanton environmental destruction, and our pollution of the land and sea. Now, one of the things they're hoping to do is persuade us to stop polluting the sea.”

“They don't fear that there'll be massive immigration, if life is so good under the waves?” Tony asked.

“How long can you swim for underwater, Tony?”

“Urm, maybe a length of a pool.”

“In terms of time?”

“Oh, a minute or two, maybe.”

“They have biological adaptations that make them certain they're a separate sub-species. They can swim up to fifteen minutes under water, and navigate by echo-location. One of us land-people might be able to learn to swim with one of their tails, but in this... what I guess we might as well call defining mark of their culture of being able to go out there and grab enough fish for the day in half an hour, we'd never be better than badly handicapped. They're aware of that, and unfortunately for any young men and women wanting to marry their way into the Mer culture, they're also aware of the risk of excessive intermarriage on the grandchildren.”

“You said you yourself had some family link to the Mer. Could you expand on that intermarriage aspect? How did that happen if they've been so isolated from us, hiding away in Atlantis?” Tony asked.

“The whole people living there only happened about two centuries ago. Before that, they'd always been living in isolated spots around the world's coastlines. Before the massive population boom of the twentieth century, that was fine, but then with more and more tourism, it was becoming difficult to hide. In quite a few places around the world, they set up dive centres, often with a Mer theme, and employed local actors to dress up as Mer. That was really quite clever: it meant that if one of their friends or relatives was seen, they'd just be dismissed in people's minds as one of the actors or actresses. But the time of no privacy hit them hard. People had early wrist units, or other communication devices which could take pictures good enough to identify people, and the computers were recognising people who weren't staff. Hiding in plain sight like that wasn't working, and they withdrew to Atlantis. But during that time, there'd been numerous occasions when trusted staff members had met some of the real merfolk, and quite a few marriages resulted. That helped with people getting I.D. papers and such like, but part of the reason that my lots-of-greats grandmother stayed on land when her family went to hide in Atlantis was that she couldn't hear where fish were, or drive one of their submarines safely.”

“Because of intermarriage?” Myra asked.

“Yes. She had a land-folk father, and a mother who was herself more than half land-folk. That was too much, in her case. I don't think you'd be able to call it racism, but... they'd routinely check for common descent to avoid inbreeding — they'd consider marrying a third cousin incestuous — and most Mer won't want to risk their kids being what we'd call normal, unable to hear where fish are, not being able to hear thoughts properly or not being able to hold their breath long enough.”

“But you don't think it's a racism or racial purity issue?” Tony asked.

“No. For the simple reason that they'd have no problem with someone who was of pure merfolk blood marrying someone of pure landfolk heritage. It seems that all the mer-genes are dominant, so that doesn't cause a problem. It's in the later generations that problems are more likely.”

“You said 'not hear thoughts properly'?” Myra said, “Could you expand on that?”

“Yes. About sixty percent of Mer are thought-hearers. There's a rare condition among thought-hearers, which seems to be sex-linked, no one knows why, which gets called 'the pain'. With 'the pain', the woman's thought-sensing ability is too sensitive; she hears too many decisions being made, and the part of the decoder or filter that the brain uses to ignore most things it hears are overwhelmed, resulting in feeling a debilitating pain in crowds. The merfolk are more sensitive thought-hearers than we are, but don't suffer the same problem. It seems that in the mer, their 'filter' is better than ours. The pain was unknown among the mer until what you might call the cross-breeding experiment of three hundred years ago, which is roughly when it was first experienced in land-folk too: it's another result of intermarriage.”

“Thank you. So, returning to a business point of view, would you expect them to be a ready market to any particular type of products?”

“Other than coastal property, you mean? Actually on that point, I expect that what will happen is that the Mer government will be negotiating deals that include some sort of residency rights, along the lines of trade enclaves. That seems the more likely option than a free-market approach to land purchase, at least initially. In the medium term, I expect governments will be very careful to explain to the merfolk what the annual costs are likely to be for entering the housing market.

Otherwise, I'm not at all sure. From what I've witnessed, food and drinks that you don't get from the sea would certainly be a novelty. Oh, now they're not hiding I expect there'd be an interest in wrist units, assuming they're waterproof, by which I mean if they're good for water-skiing and scuba diving.”

“That's quite a high level of water protection.” Myra said.

“Yes, but we're talking about people who can swim under water fast enough to leap out of the sea like dolphins. I don't think anything without a guarantee that it will stand up to that sort of water pressure is going to sell to them at all. And they'll view any attempt to not honour the guarantee as fraud.”

“Thank you. Oh, the reason I'm here... what is going on at the campsite?”

“Oh, well, you know I said that the Mer used to live secretly along isolated stretches of coastline? It turns out that at some time the coastline of Carbon-carbon's recently purchased isolated campsite was one such place. The two governments and I have reached an agreement that the campsite will open next year, with some modifications, but part of it will become an embassy, and potentially a trade enclave for the Mer.”

“What sort of things do you expect the Mer to be trading?”

“Well, eventually there are any number of ultra high technology, low volume products that might reach our markets. Their fusion generators are considerably more advanced than ours, as are their advanced alloys, for example. But, initially, I would expect them to be in the tourist industry, for example tourist trips to Atlantis seem a distinct possibility. There will also be some activity in the gem and jewelery industries.”

“You sound more certain of that.”

“Yes. I met a number of people there who are quite adept at gem cutting and polishing, they seemed interested in learning their hobby could be quite so profitable.”

“Their hobby? Gem-cutting?”

“The mer are an extremely complex and ancient culture, Myra. One thing that I discovered is that they categorise things differently than we do. Gem cutting is a hobby, as are trading and gem-collecting. People do them in their spare time. Advanced physics, engineering, archiving and so on are a hobbies the state thinks of as useful. Submarine building is a job to some and a hobby to others, as is farming. Fish collecting is just part of life and keeps you fit. The difference between a job and a hobby is that if something's a job, you may not want to get up and do it in the morning, whereas if it's a hobby you might do it even if the doctor told you to rest. I think that if you were a Mer, you'd probably consider being a reporter as your hobby, and you'd be sad if no one let you earn your living doing it.”

“Aren't you just redefining a profession as a hobby?” Myra asked.

“No. They'd still consider medicine, law and teaching as professions. Things where people depend on you to know your stuff, and to be there. I'm not saying that engineers don't know their stuff, but as long as the workshop's not left empty, then one of them taking the morning off to do some fishing doesn't normally cause a major problem.”

“Urm, OK. But I'm fairly sure I don't understand all the implications.” Myra admitted.

“That's OK. Nor do I. But just think... once the trade enclave opens its doors, there will be merfolk coming who don't need to trade in order to eat, eating is easy, if you're a mer. No, they'll be coming to trade because they can't think of anything they'd rather do than make new friends, persuade them how wonderful what they're selling is and how much better or cheaper it is than you'd get elsewhere, and convince them to give them something of equivalent value. They're bringing the wonderful things that others are making or finding, and of course they're passing on a fair price at the other end, otherwise they won't have the opportunity to sell more. And just for you, they'll make a special trip to commission the piece if what they've got doesn't suit you, assuming the price makes it worth their while of course. But they do want to make you a happy customer, because the happy customer comes back.”

“I take it, then, we're not talking of bulk trades.”

“Well, it depends what you want, the Mer aren't a people who like mass production. Custom-made craft-work is a much higher value for them. I found it interesting talking to the gem-cutters. They take quite a different attitude to ours. They'd see cutting a gem as bringing out the natural features in the stone in all their glory. And they do. It's a very different approach to what you'd get from one of our cutters, who tend to cut away flaws. To mer-folk eyes, the ideal diamond has one or two of almost invisible flaws in it, and the cut should encourage you to hold it at just the right angle to make them suddenly shine. To them, that proves it's a natural stone, not an artificial one. It will be interesting to see how the market responds to the different approach.”

“So, they know artificial diamonds?”

“Yes, they've had it for ages, but for many applications they've found something even better. Artificial materials is one of the areas they're getting a surprise about how far ahead of us they still are. They thought that we'd almost reached parity.”

“Better than diamond, how, exactly?”

“Just as transparent, more shock resistant, and stronger. The only thing it doesn't do is transport heat better, actually it's quite an insulator, but for a construction material that's an advantage.”

“A construction material?” Myra asked.

“Yes. See the pretty towers? The colours are a partly a coating they put on the inside, for privacy.”

“Towers made out of something harder than diamond? How do you hang up pictures?”

“They tend not to, actually. But they can cut it. That's another area they're good at, cutting tools. Which reminds me, they're pressing for a world-wide ban on dropping explosives into the ocean in general, and an absolute ban on depth-charges in the specific. That's something certain industries should be well aware of.”

“I'm confused about the link.”

“They like natural, they like long-lasting, they haven't had any wood for the last few hundred years. Therefore they've taken to using stone, and the average do-it-yourself enthusiast, which apparently means roughly half the men as well as a fair portion of the women, has a hand-held device which will enable him to cut rock considerably faster than an electric saw will shape wood. It's amazing, really. It's got some kind of cut-depth setting, so you can use it to cut only part way into the rock. I never found out how that works, sorry. Also, it can extend a forcefield into the hole you've just made that'll keep the cut perfectly straight, so it's drill, saw, and plane all in one go.

“The link to the depth-charges was that someone who'd lost family to some realised that since they weren't hiding any more they didn't need to need to just sit there while their kids were maybe about to get killed, and that if someone had his swiss-army-knife rock-cutter with him then he might well feel justified in using it on a boat or plane that was indiscriminately dropping bombs on the school or family outing. Their queen agreed that was quite an appropriate form of self defence, so long as the response wasn't intended to kill, but to warn and protect, so maybe cutting bits of superstructure off, that sort of thing. Of course if the warning was ignored, and the only way to defend your family was to put big hole in the ship, or cut a wing off the plane, then fine, because randomly dropping bombs on civilians has been banned for a long time.”

“You're saying that half the population walks around with some great-big laser sword?”

“Who said anything about it being big?” Sarah asked, with a wry smile. “It's about the size of a flashlight, and doubles as one, too.”

“And it can cut steel?”

“I certainly saw someone slicing a lump of granite to make a table top with one. One cut was about a metre deep. He then switched modes and did some beautiful fiddly engraving with it. I suppose that's another thing they might want to trade, actually, their rock-work. I'm told that you can also set the rock-cutter to long range, in case you need to cut down some dangerous overhanging rock, or cut some hand-holds into a cliff. In that mode and in water there's automatically a forcefield tube for the laser to go down, which extends as the laser makes itself a vacuum, so the beam energy isn't lost.

Don't ask how they do that with forcefields, like I said, they're way ahead of us in some ways.”

“Did they tell you how it was powered? It seems impossible to put that much energy into anything.” Myra asked.

“They said 'mostly it's fusion'.”

“Hand-held, fusion-powered lasers.” Tony said, his mind boggling.

“Yes. I asked about whether they expected them to be a trade item. The response was interesting.”

“Yes?”

“Karella, their queen said 'It is a tool and not a weapon, but any cutting tool can become a weapon in the hands of a criminal, a desperate person or a soldier. We have no interest in supplying you land-folk with more weapons; you have too many already, purpose made. But to those few we can trust to only ever use them as tools, and keep their vows, we might eventually supply a variant that is less of a weapon.'”

“They don't trust us. But then again, I wouldn't trust us, either.” Tony summarised.

Myra opened another tack, “You mentioned tourism, I'm presuming you can't book a romantic weekend away at an Atlantis hotel yet.”

“No. We're probably talking about individual home owners letting out a room. And the romantic option is only ever going to be husband and wife couples. They take oaths seriously.”

“Otherwise, you're 'shark or shark-food'?” Tony asked.

“Exactly.” Sarah agreed.

“Pardon?” Myra asked.

“It's the foundation of their law and culture: 'an oath must be kept, for an oath-breaker is shark or shark-food.' They follow it up with 'Not all sharks need to be killed, just the dangerous ones.'”

“That's comforting. “, Myra said. “Could you expand on what they mean by shark-food? And on shark for that matter.”

“Urm, shark-food means that there's a shark happily munching on them, or some other fatal accident has happened to them. They've brought divine judgement on themselves by breaking an oath, and should have expected what comes next. They don't ascribe all shark attacks to divine retribution, and they normally look out for one another, but no one would put themselves in harm's way to protect a known oath-breaker. What would be the point? If it's not this shark it'll be the next, they're doomed anyway. A dangerous shark of the two legged variety, is someone who, ignoring laws, customs, and divine retribution, is going to get other people hurt and maybe it's safer for everyone if they get executed. 'Not all sharks need to be killed' means that there's plenty of space in the middle between oath-breakers who are dead and can't hurt anyone, and oath-breakers who need to be executed. Someone might easily be known to be an oath-breaker, but not actually doing anyone serious harm. So, just like you don't need to go exterminating every shark in the sea, depending on what sort of shark they are, you might be able to ignore them, or you might need to watch any that come close, or you might not know what sort of shark they are and so watch them very closely with your knives ready. An oath-breaker might be executed, exiled, or shunned. Or they might continue to live among the Mer. But they have no right to expect protection, and no right to have any oaths they make taken seriously for quite a long time.”

“So there is some hope of redemption?” Tony asked.

“Sort of, yes. I asked, in terms of tourists, what their attitude was to various different sorts of people visiting Atlantis, say, someone who'd perjured themselves in court, or had been unfaithful to their spouse, or a not-yet married couple, a reformed thief, a reformed murderer, or a confidence trickster who hadn't been caught yet.”

“And?”

“They said that a confidence trickster, or would-be thief were dangerous sharks and should expect to be treated accordingly, whether they'd broken an oath or not. A couple who couldn't wait for their marriage dishonoured each other and might find themselves given the choice of having an Atlantis wedding followed by a honeymoon, or going home on separate boats. The perjurer and previously unfaithful spouses would be permitted to visit so long as they accepted an oath-breaker's mark and in case of accident they expected to be left for the sharks to eat or to bleed to death, and any assistance they did receive was purely up to someone else's generosity.”

“Do I dare ask about someone who was looking for a holiday romance?” Myra asked.

“A holiday romance as in meeting someone special you might want to spend the rest of your life with? Or a little immorality away from home? The first option they wouldn't find that odd. The second? Don't go to Atlantis looking for sin.”

“You mentioned an 'Atlantis wedding.' Could you expand on that?” Tony asked.

“Yes. The normal practice is that couples spend a long time 'walking together' as they say, working out if they're really going to get on with each other the rest of their lives. Then, they decide, call some witnesses to their making vows to each other and off they go on honeymoon. Sometimes the engagement lasts up to a week or two, if they want some particular relatives around for the party, otherwise it can be a matter of hours.”

“No engagement rings, then, I guess?”

“No. They might arrange for wedding rings afterwards. But they've taken a life-long vow, and everyone around them agrees it mustn't be broken.”

“What happens in the event of divorce then?” Myra asked.

“What divorce? That would be breaking an oath.”

“Urm... ok... what about cases of abuse, or violence?”

“The vows they take exclude that, and include a line that says 'If you need to wound me to stop me from abusing you, then let any curse of oath-breaking fall on me.'”

“Oh. And if a couple decide they just can't stand each other?”

“They'd normally get help before it gets to that point, because an oath must not be broken. They recognise that there probably aren't as many ways to die horribly on the land, but they are pretty amazed that we ever venture near the sea, actually.”

“So they don't consider the whole idea of divine vengeance for broken oaths as superstition?” Myra asked.

“No. They'd see it as observable fact.”