M.N. Arzu's Blog, page 2

Underground - A Merfolk Secret / Ch. 6

A visit to the doctor is anything but normal when you're a merman.

We're two days away from the release of Underground - A Merfolk Secret. You can read Chapter 1 here, and all the chapters in between as well.

6
From the Inside Out

Something about this place was making Chris nervous.

   The light-blue halls of Medox Medical Center looked spotless, and the many people who walked through the labyrinth that was the Labs area seemed not to pay him any attention, but from Christopher’s perspective, everyone was watching him, waiting for his scales to shift so the whole world could see what they already knew: a merman was walking in their midst.

   Stop it! he chided himself, as a young nurse smiled at him in an appreciative way. He tried to smile back, but he wasn’t sure if it came out more like a sneer than an actual friendly greeting. Beside him, Andrew nudged him with his elbow, as he’d noticed the exchange. In front of them, Gwen was telling Julian how things were going at her new job.

   “And I gotta say, I was very impressed with the head of traumatology,” Gwen was saying as she guided them through the third floor. “He’s a no-nonsense guy that every hospital needs. I was dreading some interrogation regarding ORCAS and my ‘celebrity’ status, but the guy barely mentioned it...”

   ORCAS. This place looked exactly like Christopher had imagined ORCAS to be. From the confinement of his bed, he’d stared at the double doors that led to his room for hours, and he’d imagined that corridors full of shadows and men in lab coats with scalpels awaited him out there. Most of the time, Matt had distracted him from his fears, providing an escape from his overactive imagination. But he’d never stopped wondering.

   Now, walking through an actual hospital, his body seemed to remember all too well what his mind had conjured seven months ago. He looked around, unable to dispel the feeling of being watched.

   “Mr. Brooks,” a short, bald doctor said as they turned a corner, stopping the entire group. “I’m Dr. Bennett. We spoke on the phone? I hope you’ve found everything to your satisfaction?”

   Despite Julian’s request that their visit be private, it was inevitable that at least someone from the administration would greet them. The trick was to minimize how many people knew they were there, even if only Gwen and Andrew were going to see the actual tests.

   “Dr. Bennett, yes. I thank you for your accommodations on such short notice. Dr. Gaston here has been giving us the grand tour. I couldn’t ask for a better guide.”

   Julian was one of the most prominent donors at Medox Medical Center, and although he’d been keeping up with the hospital for altruistic and research reasons, this was the first time he’d called in a favor. Medox had the equipment Andrew needed to form a better diagnosis on how to treat Christopher’s injured legs, and Julian had the resources to ask for a full day of uninterrupted use of the labs and the machines. From ultrasounds to MRIs, this day was going to last forever.

   “If you need anything at all, you just have to say the word. Many of our specialists are in the facility today, though I’m sure your son already has the best care in the world.”

   As the exchanged continued, Chris leaned on the wall. His legs didn’t seem to be cooperating today. And although merfolk didn’t sweat, Chris could feel the grip on his cane sliding. It was as if someone was draining his strength.

   “Are you okay?” Andrew whispered beside him, a slightly concerned frown on his face.

   “Yeah...just...thinking about how things were at ORCAS,” he answered.

   “Not as nice as here, I can assure you,” his friend joked. Chris barely nodded. “Everybody had all sorts of crazy shifts, and if you weren’t careful, you could walk right into an exit instead of the place you wanted to be. The cafeteria food was okay, I guess,” Andrew kept saying, making Chris’s two stomachs cringe. He couldn’t eat right now even if his life depended on it. “But I always looked forward to working with you.”

   “You were only there for three days,” Chris said, frowning.

   “And I looked forward to treating you every single one of them,” Andrew said, beaming.

   “So, if you don’t mind, we would like to start,” Julian was saying, cutting short Dr. Bennett’s grand speech.

   “Of course. I hope everything works okay,” the short man said, shaking hands with Julian, then Christopher, and finally Andrew. He waved at Gwen, and the four of them breathed.

   “I told him you wanted privacy. I wasn’t expecting him to come and talk to you,” Gwen said as she walked them through a couple of doors until they arrived to the MRI room. Chris swallowed hard.

   “That’s okay, Gwen. It’s the first time I’ve come in person, so I was expecting it. Now, the sooner we get this going, the less people are going to come in here to talk.”

   “Right. Andrew has a very detailed list of what he needs, and there are a few things I suggested that we both think would be good. Now, the question here is: how slowly can you shift?”

   “So you can study how the muscles move?” Julian asked. Both Andrew and Gwen nodded eagerly. “Can’t say I’ve timed myself. Our aim is to do it as fast as we can, so it becomes an automatic shift. I guess we’ll find out together.”

   “Okay, the gowns are in that room. Take your time to change while we set things up here.”

   Chris opened the door to a small room with nothing but a bench and a couple of hangers. “Dad?” he asked as Julian started to take off his watch and unbutton the cuffs of his shirt. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

   Julian looked at him, confused. “If I’m sure I want to do what? Help your doctors understand how to help you? That’s not even a question.”

   “But...doesn’t this go against everything we stand for? The secret we’re protecting?”

   “The secret that the whole world knows by now?” his father pointed out, smiling. “Chris, it’s okay. They need this because you need this. Spending a few hours lying down while they run their tests is the least I can do.”

   That’s what they did to me, isn’t it? They ran their tests while I was in a coma… So why does this feel so wrong? 

   “Maybe there’s nothing anyone can do for me, you know? Maybe what happened to my legs is irreversible, and I’m totally okay with that. I mean, Dad—we really don’t have to do this.”

   Julian stopped unbuttoning his shirt, and looked straight at his son’s eyes. “What exactly are you talking about?”

   “You’re putting your identity in danger for something that might not even help me at all. It’s not worth it.”

   Julian placed a hand on his shoulder, and for one moment Chris thought his father was going to desist, and they would leave this wretched place at once. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t risk for you, do you understand? If I had to walk out and announce to the world I’m a merman in order to save you, I would do so in a heartbeat. For you or any of your brothers.”

   “Dad…”

   “Now, stop this nonsense that I’m in danger. Gwen has the controls and you’ll be playing guards with Andrew to ensure no one opens that door. We’ll be home before you know it.”  

* * *

The last time Julian had had a physical, he’d still been living in The City. It was the last requirement to leave, actually, since they had to make sure he would survive the trip to the surface. Those leaving were guided by The City itself, to make sure there were no dangerous predators in the area. All they wore was a watch to illuminate the way, and a thousand hopes of a better, brighter future.

   “How long do you need?” he asked Gwen, looking at the MRI machine closely.

   “About twelve minutes between each phase,” Gwen said.

   Julian chuckled. “Phase?”

   “What do you call them? Stages?” Gwen asked, frowning.

   “Well, there are legs, and then there’s a tail. It’s pretty straightforward.”

   “We’ll take whatever we can,” Andrew said. “Just try to make it last as long as possible.”

   You can still say no… Chris whispered in his mind. For some reason, his eldest’s anxiety was still filling their connection. It was as if whatever had Chris anxious on a daily basis, had blossomed as soon as they’d stepped into the hospital.

   “Okay, how about we start easy?” Julian suggested. “We do the twelve minutes for legs, and twelve minutes for a tail, and then we’ll try the ‘phase’ thing.”

   And hopefully, we don’t spend five hours in here.

   With a plan of action, both Andrew and Chris got out of the room, while he and Gwen got ready to start. As he sat on the MRI’s narrow bed and Gwen gave him the earplugs to tone down the machine’s noise, Julian started to get a sense of what was making Christopher so nervous.

   “And then you lie down and don’t move. Easy peasy.”

   “Gwen? You ran these tests when Christopher was at your hospital, right?”

   “Some of them, yeah.”

   “Is there any chance he was partially conscious?”

   “Not as far as we could tell. Why? Does he remember anything?”

   “No, he’s just been…jittery since we arrived.”

   “A lot of people get jittery with lab tests. It’s perfectly normal. You’re in a strange environment, half the time you’re naked; there’s people poking and prodding you. There might be discomfort, if not outright pain. Look, the whole thing just makes you vulnerable,” she explained, shrugging. “Besides, isn’t this the first time you’re taking one of your kids to the doctor? Like, ever?”

   “I won’t confirm or deny that,” he answered, making Gwen laugh.

   “Don’t worry. I won’t call Social Services on you, Mr. Brooks. So, enjoy your time—and don’t move.”

   “Yes, ma’am,” Julian said under his breath as he lay down. The earplugs felt uncomfortable, and as the bed moved inside the long tube, he had the sudden need to scratch his knee.

   It’s all in your head, he told himself as he took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. This is going to take a long time, so you better get comfortable.

   It was easy to wander in the boundless space of his mind. Chris’s brilliant blues were a bit more energetic than usual as he tried to get his nerves under control. Andrew had picked up on his mood, and was chatting his ear off, probably trying to distract him. Further away, his other two sons were having a discussion at the school library, one Julian skipped over. Unless he was feeling a distress signal from either of them, he avoided overhearing their conversations. It was bad for parenting, apparently.

   Further still, Diana’s vivid purples jumped from one point to the other. She was excited about the UN talks, and if he had to guess, he would say she was talking with Nathan right this moment. She hadn’t declared her intentions for their human ally, and frankly, he wasn’t sure if she actually loved him or merely cherished him as a good friend, but there was no denying the strong feelings she sent every time she was talking to him.

   And not far away from her, Drake’s dark energy moved like a caged panther. Unlike Diana’s happiness, Drake was far more reserved with the outcome of these talks. And before those talks even happen, he has to deal with Major White.

   Part of Julian felt guilty that Drake had made a deal with the major on behalf of his family, but he understood Drake’s decisions. They would’ve had to deal with the government eventually. He just wished it hadn’t been this soon.

   Having fun at the doctor’s? Drake asked as he stopped reading some reports.

   Can’t say I’m thrilled, but at least Gwen makes this bearable. How are things going on your end?

   I’ve been getting some flags from the Navy. It seems they have some interesting theories regarding Brazil. I’m sending Mireya everything I’ve got. Her Portuguese is far better than mine ever was.

   How did it go with the major?

   I’m leaving first light on Saturday. They can’t wait to do a real deep diving test, and the sooner this is over, the better for all involved.

   “Okay, Julian, we’re good with this part. Ready when you are with the tail.”

   That’s my cue.

   Good luck. I’ve never liked shifting out of the water, Drake said as he faded out of Julian’s mind. His friend had a point: Tails were meant to be used underwater. Even sitting at the edge of a pool was uncomfortable, let alone shifting while lying horizontally on an extremely narrow bed.

   He was used to doing it fast, but that was with the aid of water. As he started the fusion from his hips down, the flat surface of the MRI bed slowed him considerably. He joined his knees, which made him arch his back, and by the time his ankles merged into his tail, he’d had to put his hands on the curved wall to steady himself, since his lateral fins were completely useless for the task.

   “Everything okay in there?” Gwen asked from outside the MRI, where Julian’s tail was brushing her arm. She sounded far away and distorted through the earplugs, but he could still understand her.

   “It’s just…tricky.”

   “I bet. The section we want to study is not large, but I would love to get a closer look at those hips of yours, if you don’t mind.”

   “Since I’m your captive audience, you mean?”

   She laughed, and although Julian couldn’t see her, he felt her covering his tail with a blanket. If anyone did enter the room, at least he would have enough time to change under the cover.

   Lying there in merform felt vulnerable in a way that lying there with legs didn’t. When Christopher had been trapped inside ORCAS, he’d shared plenty of fears with his son, but now that it was him inside, even if he was here willingly and in no danger, he still got a claustrophobic vibe. The idea that humans could cage him and essentially treat him as a lab rat felt too real, and it gave him a renewed purpose for dealing with the UN and the government in the best way possible—or to run to the other side of the world if he couldn’t.

* * *

“Does he seem tense to you?” Andrew asked Gwen as Chris went deadly still inside the MRI two hours later.

   “Funny, Julian thought the same thing. He said he was going to keep Chris’s mind out of it, but that I should ‘hurry it up’. As if you could hurry this baby up,” Gwen said, patting the monitor in front of her. It had been almost an hour and a half before Gwen had let Julian go, and it had taken Andrew that long to convince Chris that this was a good idea.

   “I wasn’t expecting that being here would be this distressing to him,” Andrew commented, as Chris marginally relaxed.

   “Well, you gotta factor in this: Being attacked was not the worst thing that could happen to him. Waking up at ORCAS was, and I can see why he would associate this place with that place. Your subconscious mind can be such a bitch sometimes.”

   I have to make you start talking to me about this… Andrew thought.

   “How did it go with Julian and the shifting phases?”

   Gwen barked a laugh. “He did try, I’ll give him that. It was a lost cause, for the most part. We might have better luck with the ultrasound later.”

   On the monitor, Chris’s legs showed up distinctively not human. Merfolk didn’t have human-like bones. They were more like cartilage, if one could fuse cartilage together, of course. They appeared dimmer on the screen than femurs would, and although the cut to Chris’s tail had not touched the structure, Chris’s impaired walking was taking a toll on his knees.

   “I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Gwen said as the test proceeded, “why didn’t you want an EMG done? Aren’t his muscles the problem?”

   An electromyogram was a fancy way of describing electrical torture. Andrew had been subjected to one when he’d been a teenager, and boy, did that thing hurt. An EMG measured the electricity running through the muscles to discard muscular or nerve problems, but it required needles to be inserted at various points in the leg so electricity could flow, measuring abnormal electrical activity. The side effect was painful electrical shocks.

   “I would have done it the first week he came to see me if it had been possible. He can’t stand the electrical current.”

   “He’s hypersensitive?”

   “From what he told me, I think they all are. Apparently, if I were to apply any real electrical stimuli, it would trash his shifting capabilities and I would end up with a strange mix of man and merman. He made it sound gross,” Andrew said with a frown, “but it’s also the main reason why his recovery has been so hard. Electro-stimulation is one of my main tools to treat muscles, so I’ve been working with a hand tied to my back, and no tests to fall back to. At least he tolerates ultrasound therapy.”

   “No wonder you were so excited over the phone when you called me.”

   “Hey, it’s not every day a merman offers to shift under an MRI. And, you know, they can use the information, too. These are the first images of the inner workings of their body that any of the younger Brookses have ever seen in their lives. How cool is that?”

   “I don’t think Matthew and Scott are going to be interested,” Gwen said with raised eyebrows. “But maybe Alexander will. He’s always struck me as the smart one.”

   “How smart do you think they really are? Like an average IQ?”

   “I have no idea. But one thing I can tell you is this: I’d rather have Drake on my side any day than a moron from the Pentagon.”

   “Word.”

 

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Underground - A Merfolk Secret / Ch. 5

Making deals and uncovering the past can be a tricky affair. What is everyone after?

You can read Chapter 1 here, and all the chapters in between. Underground - A Merfolk Secret is coming out next Tuesday, July 17th.

5
Conspiracy Theories

For the first time in seven months, Kate was not looking at a story featuring Julian Brooks, his kids, his company, or his genius way of getting off of the front page. She had new prey, and it felt strangely relieving to set her sights on another target.

   “Patrick O’Connor has been one busy bee,” Jeff said as he typed on his computer at light speed.

   “Tell me something I don’t know,” she said, highlighting a passage on a printed article. “This guy has been following stories for twenty years, and has four Pulitzers to prove it.”

   He’d started his career smoking out politicians, and then he’d moved on to bigger, global issues. From human trafficking to improper industrial waste disposal, the man had an eye for stories that pit human interest against corruption and power. He’d been dabbling in Wall Street stories five years ago, and then had taken a sharp turn into environmental issues, but that was the tip of the iceberg.

   “Whoa, he’s survived three assassination attempts, and has been taken hostage twice,” Jeff said, whistling.

   “You don’t get to uncover so much dirt without making a ton of enemies,” Kate said, reading one of the few interviews he’d given for the National Geographic magazine two years ago. “He says he wouldn’t love his job so much if it were easy,” she read out loud, chuckling. He sounded more adventurer and explorer than actual journalist, but she guessed that both skills worked well together if there was a clever pen behind them. “I wonder why he’s suddenly interested in merfolk.”

   “What’s not to like?” Jeff asked, raising both eyebrows. “A new intelligent species living in the ocean. Shady handling of Ray’s death. Government conspiracy to keep it quiet. Add to the mix rumors of bodies and hunters that go missing in the night, and there’s plenty to look into.”

   “Yes, but the whole thing has thousands of reporters looking into it. Patrick doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who goes for the story everybody’s after.”

   “Well, he’s not really going after merfolk, Kate. He’s going after you.”

* * *

Major White looked out the window at the street below. Melting snow banks and bare trees met his eyes as he searched for Drake’s tall figure walking among unsuspecting humans. It was still early for their meeting, but Drake always arrived before time.

   In the kitchen, Dr. Higgs finished preparing tea, a tradition he’d picked up at Cambridge thirty years ago. His apartment had become the neutral space between humans and merfolk, which worked perfectly fine for the Pentagon. It was in the middle of New York City, easy to contain, easy to patrol, easy to secure.

   “You look concerned,” Higgs commented as he brought a mug for White. He was a perceptive man, especially at the most inconvenient of times.

   “People are getting impatient in Washington,” White said, sitting down. “They want me to ask for more than Drake’s willing to give.”

   “You can always ask nicely,” Higgs said with a smile. “Besides, I’m sure Drake’s expecting you to ask for things you both know won’t happen. That’s how diplomacy works, isn’t it? You pull and push, offer and demand, and somewhere in between, you find common ground.”

   White sighed, thoughtful. “There’s so little we know about them.”

   “At least the little we do know seems normal enough. Except for the part where they turn into fish,” Higgs said with a shrug.

   The Brookses acted remarkably human, and White doubted they were putting on a show. But six months of surveillance had not yielded a complete picture, not even a blurry one, especially when it came to their “City,” and much less to the extent of their skills, both mental and physical.

   “They speak our language, eat our food, breathe our air,” Higgs added.

   “They hack our spy satellites, build mega-corporations, and breathe our water,” White pointed out. “They’re far from innocent creatures. They’re smarter than we are, and have the resources to cause some real damage.”

   “And so talking to them instead of shooting at them is the smart way to go.”

   White let out a rare smile. “The miracle here is that they want to talk to us.” He sipped his tea, taking his time to enjoy the sweet flavor. “Christopher was an accident, I have no doubt about that. But why didn’t they disappear afterward? Why did they choose to stay?”

   “Perhaps you’re asking the wrong question, Major. ‘Why can’t they disappear?’ might have a far more interesting answer.”

   White frowned. He’d thought about this—obsessively so—and he’d always favored the idea that merfolk had chosen now so they could have some control over how to go about their first contact. It had never made sense that staying on the surface was their only choice.

   “Some in Washington think they’re not as dangerous as we think, that they can be easily overcome,” White said instead.

   “But then you remind them that they can hack into your spy satellites and build mega-corporations, and you’re not so sure,” Higgs finished with a knowing smile, raising his mug for a mock toast.

   “What do you think the answer is, doctor? Why do they stay?” White asked, curious.

   “Something about the surface has to be better than under the sea, to the point they’re not willing to let it all fall down and come back to it later,” Higgs said, pensive. “We know they live long lives, but building empires takes more than a few decades. I wouldn’t want to start over, either.”

   And that adds more questions, doesn’t it? How long do they live? And why would they want to build an empire? What’s their end game?

   That last question was particularly prominent in his mind after reviewing the two dozen accounts of unexplained incidents the Navy had given him. The ships targeted didn’t seem to fit a pattern, but it was plain to see that merfolk would have no problem provoking each and every one of those incidents. Was Brooks Inc. sabotaging the competitors? Or was there something more sinister going on?

   The doorbell rang, and both men turned to look. “Speaking of the devil,” Higgs said, standing up.

   “Showtime,” White breathed as Drake came into the apartment.

* * *

Two months ago, Drake had sat on the same chair at the same table, discussing plans with Major Jonathan White. Since then, they’d spoken only twice, but he had so much information on the man that he hardly felt like a stranger. A potential ally, maybe. A dangerous enemy, definitely. Right now, they were navigating the murky waters of gaining each other’s trust.

   Two months ago, with Scott taking a shower and a reporter with their secrets on the loose, Drake had played a dangerous move in the hopes of keeping his nephews safe from Jason Calder, while Wallace roamed free. In so many ways, the whole thing could have backfired, but at least White had come to the negotiating table with a practical mind. In time, the Council had decided to give the Pentagon enough to keep them busy, but nothing that would come back to haunt them. The diving suit represented a competitive advantage, but nothing that would destroy the world down the road.

   “The prototype was tested two weeks ago successfully,” White was telling him, images on a tablet showing a group of men in lab coats and one in a black diver’s suit. “I’m bringing you all the lab results as you asked. I can tell you, everyone was impressed.”

   “I told you, if you follow the instructions, the suit will perform as designed,” Drake said with a pointed look as White handed him the tablet. “How’s the open sea test going?” Drake asked as he started reading the reports. “Are we still on schedule for next week?”

   “Yes. We’re ready to meet your requirements. The Navy will issue a consultant status, presenting you as the suit’s designer. We’ll have a suit ready for you, and you’ll accompany the marines during the dive.”

   In theory, the diving suit had been properly built, but humans had a tendency of getting creative, especially with new tech. For the first real test, Drake wanted to make sure everything would work fine. After all, if anything failed, it’d be merfolk who’d be blamed.

   He wanted to be there to supervise, yes, but also to reassure the US military that they were playing fair. For a few days, Drake would be a willing “guest” to the Navy, though Major White was expected to attend as well.

   “How’s your leg healing?” White asked once Drake finished reading the preliminary report.

   Eight weeks ago, in order to stop Wallace from murdering Julian and Scott, Drake had shouted at White to shoot him, so the pain would distort their telepathic link. The distraction had worked, and not only had White taken care of Wallace’s body, he was now earning some of their secrets.

   “Dr. Gwen did an excellent job patching me up,” Drake said. “I won’t have any problems diving with your men next week.”

   “I’m relieved to hear that,” White said. “You know that we’re capable of accommodating any medical needs you might have.” The major turned to look at Dr. Higgs, and so did Drake. Caught in the spotlight, the doctor stopped sipping his tea and lowered his mug.

   “You can send your people to my doorstep any day of the week,” Higgs said with a broad smile. “How’s Scott doing?” 

   “He’s a tough kid. It’ll take some time for things to settle down, but thanks for asking.”

   “I’m sure he can sleep better knowing Wallace is no longer chasing you,” Higgs said, thoughtful.

   “We are all thankful that the whole thing is over,” Drake answered with half a smile.

   It was the first time White had caught him in a lie.

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Underground - A Merfolk Secret / Ch. 4

It's time to see what the other members of the I-Know-A-Merman club have been doing...

You can read Chapter 1 here, in case you've been missing all the fun!

4
Unannounced

Andrew Summers’s life had drastically changed in the last year. Not only had he been called to treat a merman by the United Nations back in September, he now was the personal physiotherapist to one of the richest families in the world, which meant little when compared with the fact that he got to work with merfolk on a daily basis.

   He loved Chris’s enthusiasm and dedication to his rehabilitation, and he also loved the tight friendship he’d developed with the other human members of the I-know-a-merman club, but if there was one thing that still felt awkward, it was dealing with Chris’s dad, Julian Brooks.

   At least you’re not meeting with Drake, he told himself as Julian’s senior secretary guided him to Julian’s office. In the months since he’d been working with Christopher, Julian had had few words with him, and never in private—much less at his office.

   “He’s finishing up a meeting, but he’ll be right with you,” the older woman said, opening the door to an office that was twice as big as his apartment. For someone who had lived at least a century, Julian’s sense of style was quite modern. A tinted glass wall gave way to an impressive sight of New York City, and black sofas invited him to sit and admire it.

   The air conditioner was set at its max here, as it was in their home, because merfolk needed cold environments to thrive. By now, Andrew’s wardrobe had a healthy amount of sweaters to deal with that.

   “Mr. Summers,” Julian said a moment later, as he finished signing something his secretary was holding.

   “Mr. Brooks,” Andrew said, extending a hand. Julian shook it with a ghost of a smile.

   “It does make us sound too formal,” he said, as the doors were closed behind him. “Can I offer you something to drink, Andrew?”

   With the way Andrew’s heart was racing, he wanted to say yes, but it would hardly look professional. “Just water, thank you.”

   “I’m sure this meeting came as a strange request,” Julian said a moment later, handing Andrew a cool glass of water. Sitting down, it somehow felt as if he was about to be given an employee evaluation, and he had no idea how it was going to go.

   “I can’t say I’m not intrigued.”

   “I’ve been meaning to talk with you for a while, but things seemed to keep happening,” Julian started, choosing his words carefully. “I’ve been watching Chris, and he’s still struggling. He keeps saying everything’s going fine, but I can see he’s in pain. I know I’m putting you in a difficult position between disclosing your patient’s information and helping him out, but if there’s anything I can do to help you, I’ll gladly give it to you. And it might not even be something tangible, but rather ideas, any questions you might have that only a merman can answer…?”

   The question lingered in the air, expectant. Andrew had heard similar questions from parents of children, and he had to remind himself that, in merfolk society, Christopher was still considered a minor. Julian was gracious enough to understand that Andrew might very well refuse to share any details that Christopher might not want him to disclose, but he also had a point: Chris was a unique patient, and Andrew had no resources to use and no colleagues to compare notes with.

   “Chris is a wonderful patient,” Andrew said with all confidence. “He does his exercises, and he keeps with the routine. He’s invested in his recovery like no one I’ve ever worked with before.”

   “But…” Julian said, having no problem reading where Andrew was going.

   “But like you suspect, he’s stuck in his progress.”

   Chris hadn’t made any significant improvement in the past couple of months, but it wasn’t for lack of trying. “To be honest, Mr. Brooks—”

   “Julian, please.”

   “—to be honest, Julian, I’m running out of ideas. I know how the human body works, but all I have are educated guesses of how your bodies work. We’ve been working with his tail instead of his legs in the past weeks, and it does feel promising, it’s just that I don’t know how to guide him there. Your tails are not sea lion tails, or dolphin tails. I just don’t have a point of reference.”

   “You need to study how a merfolk body naturally works, without injuries.”

   “That would be ideal, yes, but I—I understand,” he added, not wanting to sound like a greedy mad scientist. “You don’t want your secrets exposed, and with the government knowing about you—”

   “Let me worry about them,” Julian said, slightly amused. “Before we go into detail about what you need to help my son, there’s something else I was hoping we could discuss. Have you noticed a change in his mood recently?”

   “With his therapy?”

   “In general. I know you didn’t know Chris from before ORCAS, but that might mean that you’re better qualified to notice it.”

   “Chris is one of the most positive people I’ve ever known,” Andrew said, frowning.

   “It drives his brothers insane, that’s for sure,” Julian said with affection. “He hasn’t been sleeping much lately,” he confided a moment later. “He’s trying to be subtle about it. He’s been trying to catch up with napping after you go in the afternoons.”

   “He’s been worn out, you’re right,” Andrew said, thinking back on the last couple of weeks.

   “Distracted,” Julian added. “He’s been…quiet. Not enough that his brothers have picked up on it, but…”

   “But he’s your son, so you’ve noticed.”

   Julian nodded once, exhaling as if admitting this was a heavy burden. “Maybe I’m imagining it, and this is not something I want Chris to worry about. I just thought that if someone would notice it at all, it would be you.”

   “I’ll pay closer attention.”

   “Thank you. I really appreciate everything you’ve done for him. We don’t take lightly the fact that you’ve kept our secret.”

   “It’s not been a problem at all.”

   “And I’m not taking lightly Chris’s full recovery, either. You said you needed to study a healthy body. What, exactly, do you need?”

   A long list of what he needed flashed in his mind, and he was sure that at least half of it was not going to be met with such eager eyes. “I think…I think we need to call Gwen.”

* * *

Around Gwen Gaston, six of her new colleagues listened to her every word with rapt attention. Gwen had been part of the Medox Hospital staff for ten days, and as much as she’d tried to avoid talking about Ray, the merfolk, or life as a semi-celebrity, she’d caved in to the pressure of awkward stares and silent questions.

   “So, he was still moving?” a young nurse asked, half horrified, half excited.

   “No, he was already in a coma. He never recovered.”

   The official story was that Ray had died without ever gaining consciousness. After seven months of repeating it, there was no question she hadn’t answered, and no conspiracy theory she hadn’t dodged.

   “He wasn’t put in a tank?” a resident asked, frowning. “I mean, that’s like the obvious answer. He was a merman.”

   “He breathed air. Putting him in water was just going to be one more complication in treating him.”

   “For all the good that did,” the guy said with disdain. “I bet if you’d submerged him in water—”

   “Was he cold and slimy?” the nurse from before interrupted, sensing Gwen was about to strangle the resident.

   “No. He wasn’t an eel,” Gwen said, now just praying for patience as the stupid questions started. She’d once told Chris the most outlandish beliefs people had about merfolk… She’d never seen him laugh so hard before. He was always eager to hear what people say to her, eager to complete a picture of what his existence meant to the world, she guessed.

   “What about his teeth?” the woman pressed. “Were they razor sharp? You know, like a shark’s, or a piranha’s?”

   Chris’s perfect human-like smile flashed in her mind. A lot had been discussed about the shape of Ray’s teeth by the “experts,” because they revealed what his diet was most likely to be. Sharp teeth for eating fish, was the standard answer, but it always made her pause.

   “They were—” Her phone interrupted the conversation. “Later,” she told the group as she answered the call while exiting the room. “Andrew, you’re a lifesaver.”

   “Happy to help,” he said. “Now, I hope you’re sitting down, because I’ve got one bombshell to tell you.”

* * *

“Hey, Alex!” Gill McKenzie called him as he was exiting History. “Wait up!”

   Alex slung his backpack on one shoulder, and waited as she put her laptop on its case, the SWIMMER sticker starting to peel off at the edges. After their presentation on merfolk and legal personhood a couple of months ago, half of his class and his teacher had all signed up to the Sea Watchers International for Men-Merfolk Equality Relations organization, which meant he got to see the SWIMMER sticker a lot around class. If I ever find out who came up with that idiotic name…

   “What’s up?” he asked. She looked more energetic than usual.

   “Dad’s taking a case about merfolk,” she whispered, suddenly blushing as she intently looked at him. “You know, trying to prove they deserve rights?”

   “I thought your dad didn’t want to take cases where he knew he was going to lose?” The main reason they had been able to write such a convincing paper was because Gill’s dad was a lawyer with a deep interest in merfolk and their theoretical rights.

   “I know! It means he thinks he has a real chance with it. He wants to clear up all these conspiracy theories and alleged murders, and maybe—maybe even file charges against Roy Wallace.”

   Oh the irony, Alex fleetingly thought. Sure, Gill, give us rights so one of us can be charged with murdering another one of us.

   “No one knows where Roy Wallace is,” Alex said, feigning ignorance.

   “That’s not the point. He wants to launch an inquiry into what happened to Ray. No one ever asked for it, but a lot of people—including some scientists from ORCAS—are coming forward with information that contradicts the White House and UN’s declaration. Don’t you see it? Ray might be alive!”

   Alex stopped in the middle of the hallway, feeling as if every student around was watching him. He opened the door to the closest empty room, with Gill in tow.

   “You can’t do that,” he admonished.

   “I can’t do what?”

   “Your dad can’t do that. Ask about Ray and what happened to him. He died, Gill. Leave it like that.”

   She frowned, confused. “What are you talking about? Don’t you want to know what happened—”

   “I know what happened. Look, the world knows what happened, and we’d like them to keep believing it happened that way. If your dad or anyone else goes asking questions, you’ll just put innocent people in danger—including Ray.”

   Her eyes opened up. “Ray’s alive?” she whispered in wonder. Which was the opposite of what his inner voice was whispering in his ear: Shut up, you idiot!

   A rash started to spread across the back of his hands and up his arms. Cursing silently, he hid his hands in his pockets. “I’m not—I can’t tell you anything else. Just don’t encourage your dad. Don’t encourage others to join the SWIMMERs. Don’t—”

   “Talk to you?” she asked, her eyes dreadfully watery.

   He felt like the worst merman on the planet. “That’s not—that’s not what I meant. You’re the one who told me you didn’t want to know so you wouldn’t say anything to the wrong people. And that’s the bravest, most considerate thing anyone in your position has ever said. And as much as it pains me to say this, there is no men-merfolk relations. There’s only ‘you and me’ relations—”

   Whatever else he was planning to say died as Gill lunged at him and was suddenly kissing him. The electrifying contact sent a bolt through his body, scales shifting from the back of his neck to his lower back, following his shoulder blades at the soaring speed of his heartbeat. His rash was obliterated as the back of his hands also shifted. He lost his balance, colliding with the whiteboard, Gill’s lips still locked with his—or maybe his with hers? Stupidly, he realized that he was now the same height as Gill, who had her eyes closed while her reddish curls framed their faces.

   The bell rang, snapping them both out of it. “I’ll stop him, you can count on it,” she said breathlessly. Two seconds later, she collected her things and fled the classroom, leaving Alex frozen in place.

   He was in so much trouble.

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Underground - A Merfolk Secret / Ch. 3

It's never a quiet day when you're a Brooks. Here's chapter 3, as we get closer to the release date for Underground - A Merfolk Secret.

Read Chapter 1 and Chapter 2.

3
Trade Off

Scott’s hunger never seemed to recede. As inescapable as the tides, it threatened to drown him if he wasn’t constantly eating. He could go as much as three hours without food, but everything after that was just a painful black hole eating at him from the inside out.

   He’d known hunger before. His short stays on the streets between foster homes had taught him how to live with it, how to survive. But this hunger, this ever-present need for constant feeding, it had to be wrong somehow. Everybody around him assured him it was perfectly normal, and Scott had no way of prodding into their memories to confirm if it had been like that. Without his telepathy, he was reduced to trusting their word—and reading their body language.

   For years, he’d relied on his ability to read humans to survive, so it was back to the basics even among his own kin. Sitting in front of the penthouse pool, Scott ate chips from a large bag—the kind of food that Chris didn’t approve of—and watched Matthew practicing his butterfly style. Privately, Scott thought it was stupid a merman was trying to be a butterfly in the water, but out loud, he just opened his mouth to let more chips in.

   His new family was so weird.

   Matthew trying to be a swimming butterfly was actually the least puzzling aspect of all his siblings. Alex had been avoiding the pool for weeks now. At first, Scott had thought that Alex didn’t want to be in the pool where Scott spent half of his free time trying to regain any spark of telepathy he could. But eventually, he’d realized Alex was avoiding it no matter who was—or who wasn’t—swimming. If Scott wanted to be really suspicious about it, he’d argue that Alex was hiding something. Among merfolk, avoiding water was the safest way to keep any secrets intact.

   “You know, there’s a lot of real food in the fridge,” Christopher said behind him, suppressing a yawn. Wordlessly, Scott walked to the kitchen, the bag of chips in hand. Chris had been sleeping more and more during the afternoons, too. His oldest brother—and newest food policeman—was having trouble sleeping. He’d been tossing and turning at night for months now, practically since their escape from ORCAS.

   Scott could relate. He’d been dreaming about Wallace since becoming a Brooks, but for the past few weeks, he’d actually fallen asleep for entire nights, only to be woken up at dawn by a gripping hunger. Free of Wallace’s mind and menace, he actually slept deeply and soundly. But Chris wasn’t sleeping at night, a fact that Julian was increasingly noticing.

   And that might have been the greatest surprise of them all: Julian’s quiet interest. Scott had caught him staring at his brothers when they were not looking, and Julian would usually smile or wink at him. I see you watching me, it seemed to sheepishly say as Julian wasn’t used to being caught, and Scott never knew how to answer that.

   As he ate the last chip and trashed the bag, he heard their father coming home. Two months ago, Scott would have sensed Julian coming from a mile away, but now all Scott had left were his ordinary senses. He refused to be anything less than an extraordinary merman, though, so he squared his shoulders and chinned up. He was going to figure out how to fit in with the Brookses one way or another. He just had to find what exactly his place as a silent merman was in this family.

   * * *

Matt woke up with a start. For one agonizing moment, he thought he was trapped inside a fish tank, with twenty faceless doctors pressing their gloved hands against the glass, all hungry to touch him. With his heart still pounding, he buried his face against the pillow. Chris was having another nightmare, and Matt had been going along for the ride.

   For weeks now, Matt had been getting more and more attuned to Chris’s mind, which was cool in the waking hours of the day, but not at 3:19 a.m. on a school night. He guessed that since he’d connected to Chris’s and Scott’s minds so often and so deeply to spy on the Council when Wallace was still alive, he’d been left with a hypersensitivity to Chris’s thoughts.

   Thank God I can’t hear Scott, he fleetingly thought as he tried to get back to sleep. Granted, the kid didn’t deserve losing his telepathy in order to get justice, but Scott’s mind was a place better left to the imagination. His little brother had issues that Matt was wholeheartedly happy to leave untouched.

   The curious thing was that Chris didn’t remember his dreams, or the fact that Matt was in them. He often dreamt of being trapped, sometimes in tiny cells, sometimes behind glass walls. Matt always shook them off after a few minutes, and kept them to himself. He was not going to tell his older brother about this, because then Chris would freak out about disturbing poor, little, innocent Matt.

   It would take more than a few scary dreams to disturb him, for sure, and without a second thought, Matt went back to sleep.

* * *

“Dad, I need to tell you something,” Alex said for the hundredth time to the mirror. Close to eight weeks had passed since his classmate Gill had figured out he was a merman, and yet Alex couldn’t bring himself to tell Julian.

   Between Scott’s fried senses, the aftermath with Major White, the fragile trust with Veritas Co., and the UN talks, the last thing Alex wanted was to bring one more trouble to the table.

   Besides, Gill is not a problem. She’s not.

   No, the problem was that he had no idea what Gill believed at this point. She’d told him she didn’t want to know anything regarding merfolk so she wouldn’t betray him—words that still echoed in his head every time he saw her—and so far, she’d been true to her word.

   By this point, Alex was far more concerned with her affiliation with the SWIMMERs, the fanatics around the world who had all these crazy ideas about merfolk. Ideas like magic was involved, castles were built underwater, and mermaids wore shell-bras. The whole thing was insane, but Alex couldn’t forget that those same crazy people had helped him find Scott when it mattered the most. Yet the more he delayed on disclosing this, the worse it was going to be with his father. He tried again with the mirror.

   “You know how I was able to find Scott so fast when Wallace shot him?”

   “Yeah, what about it?” Matt answered as he entered the room, nearly giving Alex a heart attack.

   “What the hell are you doing here?”

   “You just asked me if I knew how you found Scott two seconds ago,” Matt answered, completely confused. “I was on my way to grab something to eat, if that matters,” he added, looking at Alex as if he were crazy.

   “I wasn’t talking to you,” Alex said, prompting Matt to look around the empty room.

   “Right.”

   “I was just practicing how to ask Dad for something, okay?”

   Now this got Matt’s attention. “Is it something risky?” If someone had any experience asking for risky things, that sure was Matt. From parachute classes to driving fast cars, he had a knack for getting Julian’s blood pressure to the roof. But…Matt usually got what he wanted.

   “Maybe,” Alex answered, thinking about Gill, and their secret, and how he was already in over his head.

   Matt sat on the bed. “Okay, the first thing you need to do is to plan for the right moment. He needs to be sufficiently distracted with work, so the first time he hears it, he won’t automatically say no. He’ll think he heard you wrong, and ask for a repeat.”

   Alex sat down as well, now intrigued.

   “So, the second time,” Matt went on, “you start with a story of how you found out about it, and why in the end it makes sense for you to do it.”

   “He won’t shoot you down at that point?”

   “No. Julian likes to listen. He goes in as if you were negotiating. You go in thinking your life depends on it, and that no is not an acceptable answer.”

   Alex’s stomach sank, but he still managed a somewhat strangled, “That easy?”

   Matt arched an eyebrow. “Who said anything about easy? It all depends on how much you want it and how confident you come to the negotiation table. Remember, you have everything to lose, he doesn’t.”

   Alex looked at Matt. We all have everything to lose, he thought. He would talk to Julian tonight. He couldn’t keep waiting for everything to fall apart.  

* * *

The elevator doors opened to the hall leading to his home, and Julian took a moment to collect everyone’s thoughts. He didn’t have the special skills that tracers like Drake did, but he had a father’s intuition that had been honed after years of dealing with teenagers.

   Surprisingly, Matt’s mind was the smoothest of them all. His red and orange colors shone brightly in Julian’s mental currents, in a general good mood. Not two years ago, this would be a cause for celebration. Teenhood had certainly been a volatile time for his son, but with a little luck, he hoped those days were gone.

   Alex’s greens and yellows were muted. They had been for a few weeks now, and although Julian had dismissed it as Alex trying too hard to catch up on school work, he wasn’t so sure anymore. Something was weighing heavily on his introspective son’s mind, and Julian was growing concerned at the prospect of what it might be.

   Further down, Chris’s usual vibrant blues were also muted. Like Julian, Chris worried about the big picture, about diving into The City just to be met with hostile politics, and the situation on the surface with the UN and Major White. But lately, sometimes, Julian thought he caught glimpses of something else, something more insidious and subtle that he couldn’t name. Until he was sure, he didn’t want to bring it to his eldest son’s attention.

   And through all three of them, he got a picture of Scott. His mind was as silent as ever, but through the lenses of his three sons, he got a sense of what was going on in Scott’s life. His youngest was still finding his place in his new family, sometimes by claiming too much distance and space, sometimes by overreacting to the slightest transgressions. At least school kept him busy, and slowly—so very slowly—he was starting to take an interest in family activities. The fact that he was mentally blind was a hard adjustment for all of them, and Julian had to keep a check on his parental anxieties when he couldn’t find Scott with a flick of his mind. If Scott had been a challenge before, now Julian had graduated to the professional league of parenthood.

   As he opened the door, he fleetingly marveled at human parents. He had no idea how they could manage their offspring when they had to rely on their sons and daughters talking to them.

   “Spying on the younger generation?” Drake asked from the living room as Julian entered the penthouse.

   “Spying is such a strong word,” Julian said with a smile, undoing his tie. “And you’re one to talk. I didn’t sense you at all.”

   “I can’t shake the feeling that someone’s watching us,” Drake said, looking strangely unnerved. Wallace had played a hard one on his best friend, and nothing would shake his conviction that someone else had been involved with Wallace two months ago. Someone who hadn’t made a move ever since, if he was even real.

   On the other hand, whoever attacked Chris has been equally silent, and that was seven months ago.

   “Well, do what you need to do. These are dangerous times to be unguarded.”

   “I liked it better when our biggest concern didn’t involve the Pentagon and the next news cycle.”

   “Can’t argue there,” Julian said with a smile. “I certainly liked it better when The City didn’t blame our children for their problems.” Anything with “The City” and “our children” in it made his skin turn into scales. Ever since Jason had so honestly told them that The City blamed surface kids for a sudden need to migrate, Julian’s distrust had skyrocketed. If he could, he would forbid Chris to go down for his own safety.

   But I can’t, and he will go, no matter what.

   “We’re getting old, Julian,” Drake said with mirth. “We’re already nostalgic for the good old days.”

   Dad? Alex asked tentatively, and both Drake and he turned to look in the direction of his room. Are you busy right now?

   Drake looked at him with a raised eyebrow. Whatever Alex had been mulling over was apparently about to come out.

   I have about ten minutes before the Council session starts, he said, looking at his watch. He also yearned for the time when Council meetings were once a month, not every other day.

   Oh, it can wait, then. Alex sounded half relieved, half hesitant, which only puzzled Julian more.

   “Ace used to do the same,” Drake said, a rare mention of his son. “He would work up all this drama, bottle it up for weeks or months, and then just casually spill his heart out at the most inconvenient times,” he said with fondness.

   “It’s probably something to do with school. It’s the only thing that gets him like this.”

   Drake frowned. “Alex is fourteen—”

   “Fifteen. Almost sixteen, actually. He’s just short for his age, but he’s catching up now.”

   “Almost sixteen is usually synonymous with girl trouble. You might have dodged the bullet with Christopher, but Matthew and Alex are still fair game.”

   “You know what? With all we’re dealing with? That would be a welcome problem.”

* * *

“It all starts with one gift, and then it cascades into us losing control,” Aurel warned on the screen, the bright Tokyo skyline looking impressive behind her. Drake had seen the colors of dawn change into the blue skies of midday on the other side of the world, and there was no sign this meeting was going to be over anytime soon. He thoroughly disliked long meetings.

   “It’s not a gift,” Drake said, “it’s payment for helping us keep the kids safe and dealing with Wallace.” There was something that unnerved him about Aurel, but it seemed to change from day to day. And right now, it’s not that she’s absolutely right, but that you don’t like how it sounds coming from her.

   “There are no guarantees they won’t keep asking for more,” Aurel said, her face hard.

   “There are no guarantees they won’t storm my home and take us all prisoner,” Julian said, looking grim. “All that is between freedom and prison is Mayor White’s word that they won’t, as long as I and my family stay exactly where we are. Those are the terms we agreed to.”

   When Drake had sat down at that table in Higgs’s apartment, he’d worked out a deal with White: Keep his family safe, no questions asked, and in return, Drake would give a practical technological advance. Nothing big, but substantial nevertheless. White had agreed with one condition: Julian Brooks and his family did not disappear. A show of good faith, the major had called it, while offering to reduce the surveillance operation significantly.

   “I’d have disappeared the very next hour after he asked you to stay,” Aurel said, an old argument by now.

   “They would’ve hunted us down, all of us, with no hope of ever doing this right,” Julian countered, “and we need to do this right, for the sake of the future generations and those already on the surface.”

   “Okay, we all know what happened,” Mireya said, always the voice of conciliation. “White offered protection for your children, and in exchange, Drake offered to share a new shiny toy. However we feel about this deal, it’s done. White has kept his word, and we have kept ours. But I’m with Aurel on this one.” That made Drake groan inwardly. It never helped when the ladies rallied against the gents. “They won’t stop asking for more, so we have to be smart about this.”

   “What do you have in mind?” Julian asked.

   “Right now?” Mireya said. “Let’s see what they do with what we have to offer. We can keep them happy for a long while with relatively low-impact technology. It’s when they get greedy that things will start getting sour.”

   “White’s a smart man. He’s been making smart moves,” Drake argued.

   “But White is not the man at the top of the chain of command,” Mireya said with a pointed look. “He’s a glorified secretary most of the time. A smart one, sure, but we need to follow up on who’s calling the shots here.”

   “If we’re talking about chains of command,” Lavine said, speaking for the first time in the discussion, “shouldn’t we be making an active attempt to contact The City?”

   All four of them groaned in one way or another. Lavine was the only one completely against the UN talks, the deal with the Pentagon, and anything and everything related with talking to the human race, basically.

   “Lavine—” Aurel started.

   “No. We are five people. Five. And you want to make decisions that affect ten thousand individuals in the depths of the ocean.”

   “We want to make sure the five hundred who are up here are as safe as we can, and you’re not helping when all you bring to the table are fears and signs of doom!” Aurel countered.

   And there was no turning back. This was going to be a long meeting indeed.

* * *

Alex looked intently at the kitchen door, waiting for the right moment to talk to Julian and spill his darkest secret.

   “Don’t,” Matthew said behind him, as he raided the fridge. “Whatever they’re discussing behind closed doors, it’s bad news. Now is not the moment to ask.”

   Alex turned around, stunned. “How do you even know I was thinking about it? Are you pulling a Scott on me?”

   Matt closed the fridge door, half a dozen eggs balanced in his hands. “I don’t know what you’re thinking about, but I can sure feel your anxiety creeping all over my brain.”

   “Is that how you know Julian got bad news?”

   Placing a pan on the stove, Matt frowned at him. “You don’t feel it? For real? The whole house is vibrating with…that. How can you not feel that?”

   “Maybe because Scott didn’t ninja-train me like you two,” Alex said, narrowing his eyes. He still held a grudge against the three of them for not letting him in on spying on the Council.

   “Well, trust me. You don’t want to talk to Julian tonight, especially when you’re so anxious. Sheesh, even your scales are showing,” Matt said, pointing an egg towards Alex’s hand. Surprised, Alex looked down as the scales disappeared, leaving a fleeting rash.

   “Weird,” he whispered as he lightly scratched it.

   “Stress is going to kill you, Squid.”

   Alex glared at his brother. “How come you’re not spying on the Council right now?” he asked instead, while Matt started scrambling his eggs.

   “Can’t without Scott. He was the one who would sneak us in, but I’m nowhere near his skill level. Plus, Julian kinda made me swear, with blood, that I would never do it again.” Matt shrugged nonchalantly, leaving Alex wondering if Matt would eavesdrop if he could, regardless of if he should. “Anyway, I’ll let you know when the right moment to talk with Julian comes.”

   Alex nodded, dejected. One more day. Just one more day.

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Underground - A Merfolk Secret / Ch. 2

A couple of months ago, you got a preview of chapter 2. Here's the entire chapter as exclusive content before Underground - A Merfolk Secret is released next week!

You can read Chapter 1 here.

2

Uncharted Territory

Major White had a problem: the expectations of what he could gain from the merfolk were growing by the day. He was the only officer who’d sat down and talked to one of them, and the only one Drake wanted to negotiate with, a fact that secured White’s position as the Pentagon’s spokesman to the merfolk community.

   Truth be told, White wasn’t sure if Drake had wanted it that way, or if it had been a matter of being at the right place at the right time. It all had started when an unexpected injured Scott had shown up at Dr. Higgs’s apartment along with the press, followed a few minutes later by Drake himself.

   The hours the major had spent debriefing the entire incident were nothing compared to the hours his superiors had talked to him about what was in store with a future partnership—or a future takeover.

   “In almost six months of surveillance, your intelligence team has hardly gathered any solid facts about these people,” Vice Admiral Johnson’s grave voice pointed out to the room full of high-ranking Navy officers, where Major White felt completely out of place. The Navy was conducting its own investigations, and not a day went by when he wasn’t asked questions here and there.

   “That’s harsh, Johnson,” Admiral Coleman said with the familiarity of a long-time colleague. His clever green eyes and bald head seemed to glow under the conference room lights. Of all the people White had talked to who weren’t scientists or Military Intelligence officers, Coleman was the most interested in understanding all the details surrounding merfolk, from society to biology, from family to business, to the point he’d requested all the transcripts gathered regarding the young Brookses’ school activities. “There’s a six-hundred page report on Julian Brooks and Brooks Inc. already waiting in your office. I’m sure one of your subordinates has read it by this point.”

   Nervous laughter ran through the dozen men in attendance. “Besides,” Coleman continued, “you can’t expect a full dossier in six months, especially when your subjects talk with their minds, and have security systems more sophisticated than ours.” The laughter died as suspicion took over the room. “I’m actually eager to know how things are going with the project, Major.”

   The project, as was whispered in the halls of those who knew about merfolk dealings, was White’s crowning moment of achievement so far. When Drake had requested protection for Julian’s children, he’d offered in return a piece of technology at the merman’s discretion, and once Wallace’s body had been taken and the Brooks household had regrouped, Drake had come forward with a clever idea: a special diving suit.

   It could go deeper and faster than current designs, and best of all, it was virtually invisible to sonar. With the amount of pressure everybody was putting on it, it had to succeed. Not only was White’s reputation on the line, but the merfolk’s intentions were being measured by the project itself. If it failed, Drake would lose any credibility for the merfolk community. If it worked, then it was the first project of many to come. Or at least that’s how the Navy wanted to see it, especially since they had the most to gain.

   “The prototype has passed all initial testing, as you’re aware, sir,” White answered, while greedy eyes met him all around. “They requested that the final testing phase be conducted under their guidelines, though. They want to be present.”

   “We’ll let a group of them onto our base?” Vice Admiral Johnson asked, surprised.

   “The final phase needs to be tested in open sea, Vice Admiral,” White answered. “I think Drake intends to be the only one to inspect it, but he would be on one of our ships. I’ve been working on securing the right vessel—”

   “You’ll get the right one, Major,” Coleman said with all the authority in the world. “This is too important.”

   “This might be the only opportunity we have to study one of them in a real-life environment,” Johnson chimed in, a predatory smile on his face.

   “With all due respect, Vice Admiral,” White said, “what they’re willing to share depends on what we’re willing to give back. And that also counts for respect. Drake is one of the highest-ranking members as far as we’ve been able to map. Disrespecting him is not in our best interest.”

   “They can also dive at least a mile and a half, and are smart enough to be a real game changer in underwater warfare,” Johnson pressed. “Not to mention that mental talk they do guarantees complete radio silence. The more we know about them, the better we can plan contingency strategies.”

   “You seem to be forgetting something,” Coleman interrupted. “Brooks Inc. is a multimillion-dollar company with dealings in many of our top-secret projects. Merfolk are not stupid, Johnson, and are not unprotected. I bet they’re also not gullible.”

   At least someone read the six-hundred page report, White thought with an inward sigh of relief.

   “All I’m saying, Admiral,” Johnson said with a sore expression, “is that we should weigh the pros and cons of having one of them willingly coming to us. We may never get another chance.”

   Especially if all you want is to find ways to exploit them.

   “Hmm,” Coleman grunted, thoughtful. “I’m sure we can come up with something.” It didn’t matter how much White opposed it, the Navy would do whatever the Navy wanted to do. “There’s another matter we wanted to discuss with you, Major White,” the admiral said, redirecting the conversation. “As our expert on merfolk skills, we’d like your opinion on a separate matter.”

   “I’ll do my best, sir.”

   “There’s a current Navy investigation going on that you might not be aware of. For a few years now, we’ve been hearing about some rather strange incidents at ports all over the world.”

   “Unexplained incidents,” Johnson emphasized, the room suddenly too interested in the conversation. This is why they really called me here.

   “Half of them have been explained,” Coleman said, annoyed at Johnson, “albeit in a less-than-satisfactory manner. We would like you to take a look at our records of these incidents and report back on any theories of possible merfolk meddling. We also expect that, in the future, you may extrapolate what you know about merfolk to see if it’s possible they’ve been behind most, or all, of these incidents. The better understanding we have, the better hindsight we’ll get.”

   The admiral extended a silver flash drive with the Navy’s insignia engraved on it. “It goes without saying that this is for your eyes only, Major.”

   “I’ll get to it right away, sir.”

* * *

On her Wall of Truth, Kate Banes added a line about a news article speculating whether Brooks Inc. was considering taking over a small group of companies in Alaska. Since she and Jeff had discovered that “David Brooks” hadn’t aged a day, they had started wondering when Julian Brooks was going to announce his early retirement, and if that meant Christopher would take over the boat empire.

   On the left side of the whiteboard, she had a special space reserved for her ongoing investigation: What happened in Brazil?

   Major White had implied the incident was real but not related to Wallace, as David Brooks had told her. A lot of reporters had pursued that story, and half believed it was a hoax, while the other half believed it was a Brazilian government cover-up. She knew it was real, she just didn’t know where the dots would take her.

   A knock on her door brought her back to the here and now.

   “Your ten o’clock is here,” Jeff said, bringing a package to her desk. “And here are all the stories about Brooks Inc. from the past six days. You’re slacking off, Kate,” he joked. She’d been following so many leads that she was getting behind on her daily Brooks reading, but that was nothing a good cup of coffee and the weekend couldn’t solve.

   Ever since Julian Brooks had come into her office and nearly seen her Wall of Truth, Kate didn’t allow anyone into her four walls. She met everyone in a conference room, and the man who had requested a meeting today was no different.

   Patrick O’Connor was an independent top journalist who did research for major newspapers all over the world. She’d met him once a couple of years ago at a journalism ethics conference in Seattle, but that was as far as their paths had crossed. However, Kate had no doubt that Patrick was here for one reason alone: merfolk.

   Veritas Co. was the news company that had out-scooped everyone when it came to merfolk stories. Even now, their speculative articles on merfolk life on the surface—presented as theories and not real life, even if they were one hundred percent accurate—had an active social media community and a wide range of readers. They had also been the ones to bring Roy Wallace, allegedly the first known merfolk hunter on the planet, into the light, and that had set the virtual world on fire.

   As she entered the conference room, she wondered where Roy Wallace really was, and what would happen to him when the merfolk found him.

   Patrick stood up to meet her, forcing her to look up, up, up. The guy was easily six feet tall, and as he shook her hand with a smile, his baby-blue eyes were already calculating how he was going to sweet talk her.

   “Miss Banes, it’s so nice to finally meet you,” he said, as they both took a seat.

   “Kate, please. I have to admit, your e-mail sounded rather intriguing. You said you wanted to share some sensitive information?”

   He nodded, bringing a briefcase to the table. “I’m sure you must be bombarded every day with questions to reveal your sources—”

   “Tons. But the ones threatening to expose me as a hack for fabricating that merfolk are real are the ones that truly make my day.”

   Patrick took out a manila envelope, along with a pack of enlarged photographs. “I gotta say, what I find the most fascinating about your news coverage is that, for all you’ve managed to uncover, it must be very frustrating that you never got to see the merman in real life.”

   The image of Scott Brooks glaring at her from the back seat of her car flashed into her mind. She’d seen the pale scales on his face—had driven him to Dr. Higgs so he wouldn’t bleed out, as a matter of fact—but Patrick here was right about one thing: She’d never met Christopher Brooks. His father, his “uncle,” and his little brother, sure, but not the merman himself.

   “Well, you know how it is. I’m just happy there is enough evidence for the public to know. I can only imagine what we’ll discover tomorrow.”

   Something about his smile made her uneasy.

   “Well, Kate, I’ve been doing my own research for the past six months, and I think there’s much more to the story than you’re letting on.”

   She blinked, feeling an imaginary spotlight encasing her. “I’m not sure I’m following you.”

   “I was late to the party, I’ll admit that,” he said. “By the time I arrived in Maine, the town was already talking about commissioning a statue to preserve the exact place where Neil Thompson found Ray, the merman.” He paused to show her the first image of the beach, now a tourist trap that sold everything from keychains to magnets, towels to umbrellas, all printed with mermaids, mermen, fins, or scales. “So you see, I had to backtrack through a lot of rumors, misinformation, and nonexistent witnesses. Even the hospital staff has clamped down after months of harassment.”

   “There’s only so much you can say about an event,” she said, thinking back to the day when the hospital doctors had called a press conference to declare that merfolk were real.

   “Exactly. So instead of treading where everybody treaded, I decided to tread where you treaded.”

   An alarm bell rang loud and clear in her head. “I’m sorry, what?”

   “I’m sure I sound like a stalker, but hear me out,” he continued, presenting the next photograph of the hospital ER, a trauma room, and a blurry image of a hall. “There’s a reason why Veritas Co. broke this history-changing event first, so I reframed my research into understanding why. And to answer that, I went looking into what Veritas Co. was doing at the time of these events. Interestingly enough, you were in that exact same town in Maine the days after Ray arrived in the human world, but before it became worldwide news.”

   “I was following an ‘internet hoax’ video,” she said, leaning against the back of the chair. “I thought it was a clever story, but ultimately, we wanted to unmask the truth. And we did. It just turned out that it wasn’t a hoax. Nothing but us doing our job, I’m afraid.”

   He nodded, but she knew he wasn’t convinced. “Of course. I found traces of your own research as I did mine. It turns out a couple of hospital employees remembered you when I showed them your picture. One nurse in serious need of people skills, and a chatty janitor named Johnny.” He showed her the next photograph of an older man wearing a janitor uniform, holding a card with her name.

   Johnny had stolen Christopher Brooks’s watch when it had been discarded in the ER, and sold it to her for ten grand. She’d given him the card so they could arrange the payment, and then she’d taken the watch to an expert, who had ultimately told her it belonged to Julian Brooks.

   “You recognize him,” Patrick said with a smile that did little to settle her stomach. “He told me this incredible tale about a merman who wears watches. Diving watches, if I’m not mistaken.”

   She leaned against the table, nodding. “He did sell us one very expensive diving watch. But we could never back it up. It’s not in the videos. Not in Neil Thompson’s original video, and not in any of the hospital videos other patients shot. It was a dead end.”

   He nodded again, thoughtful. “I thought the same. I mean, I watched all those videos to the point I can recall them second by second. The things we do for our job,” he said, shrugging.

   “I’m sorry, Patrick, I just—I’m not sure what you want me to say. I still don’t know what you want or why you’re here.”

   “Honestly? I was hoping you would let me see the watch.”

   She shook her head. “We no longer have it.”

   “Not even pictures of it?”

   “Between you and me? Let’s just say that buying potential stolen property is not exactly something my editor wants to admit, or cares to have a registry for. It’s as if it never happened.”

   “It was a long shot,” Patrick said, smirking. “But even without the watch, maybe you’ll want to shed some light on some of my theories. Maybe you’ll want to add something else to this crazy merman story.”

   “This ‘crazy merman story’ is unfortunately also my story. I can’t share any information with you, I’m sure you understand.”

   “Right. We have such competitive jobs,” he joked, slipping his pictures back into the briefcase. But just when Kate thought this thing was over, he opened the manila folder he’d left out. Printouts and more photographs followed, along with receipts and handwritten notes. When he showed her the next photograph, she saw the fancy hotel where Julian Brooks had taken up residence while plotting how to get his son out of ORCAS. “So I went back to stalking you. The day Ray became known to the public, you checked into this five-star hotel for three nights, a far cry from your motel when you were just following an internet hoax.”

   It took her a second too long to come up with a suitable explanation, and he held up his hand before she could even start a reply. “Wait, let me finish. I think by that point you’d discovered something really big, big enough for Veritas Co. to foot the bill.”

   “You think so?” she asked, with a nonchalant air. She reminded herself that if Patrick knew the entire story, he wouldn’t be telling it to her. No, if he knew the truth, he would be selling it to the highest bidder. “But, I’m afraid that’s none of your business.”

   “Come on, Kate, knowing is our business. So, here I am, staying at this fancy hotel of yours, thinking: ‘How does a merman get a diving watch, and how does that connect back to this hotel?’ So I researched diving and Maine, and do you know what was dominating the news cycle in those days?”

   Christopher Brooks’s diving accident. The words flashed in red bold letters in her mind at the same time Patrick said them.

   “Shouldn’t you be talking to Christopher Brooks, then?” she asked, unwilling to let him see how much he was rattling her.

   “He’s kind of a hard guy to find. Plus, research has been…well, consuming. Now, I have all these theories about how Christopher Brooks’s diving accident resulted in a merman wearing a diving watch in the ER the next day, and how his absurdly wealthy father was able to cover that fact up. And then I also have all these other theories as to how you found out, and somehow worked out an agreement to get these exclusive stories before anybody else.”

   She laughed, unexpectedly and a little too high pitched. She’d sat down with Julian Brooks for one very short dinner to say almost the exact same thing, except she’d known the merman was Christopher, and at that time there was no deal on exclusive stories. If Patrick had followed another set of breadcrumbs to arrive at a dangerously similar conclusion, then she was doomed.

   “So, what?” she asked, slightly apologetic for her outburst. “You think I’m part of some sort of cover-up by a multimillion-dollar company and the government to hide merfolk?”

   His eyes lit up. “Who said anything about the government?”

   “Isn’t that a standard checkbox for all conspiracies?” she replied smoothly. “Look, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but how and when we find our stories here at Veritas has nothing to do with secret deals. We work hard, we follow leads.”

   Patrick looked at her, his hands resting on the stack of papers and photographs. “I know where my leads are taking me, Kate. I might not have all the pieces, but I have enough. You’re a good journalist, and I don’t have to tell you how important this story is. Don’t be greedy now, this is bigger than you or this news outlet. Whatever your reasons to keep hiding things, I’m giving you this chance to come clean before this whole thing falls on your head. And don’t think for one moment it won’t.”

   His words lingered in the air for just a little bit too long.

   “I think you should leave,” Kate said, standing up.

   He nodded once. “I’m sure we’ll see each other around.”

 

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Underground - A Merfolk Secret / Ch. 1

With the third book in The Under Series coming out next week, I'll be releasing a new chapter from Underground - A Merfolk Secret every day this week, so you can have an exclusive first look about what's next for the Brooks family and all the people around them.
 

1

Deep Waters

The snowy peaks of the Saint Elias Mountains in Alaska reflected themselves on the perfectly still lake. High in the sky, the sun did little to bring warmth to the surroundings, making this place a perfect getaway for a merfolk family.

   Beneath the tranquil waters, three young Brookses moved undetected while Christopher watched from the pier, waiting for his father to join them. He knew—just as Julian did—that this trip was more than just a spring break vacation: they were looking for places to hide.

   The world was fast becoming a dangerous place to be a Brooks. They were the only merfolk known to the US government, and although they were holding a fragile truce, things were unpredictable enough to warrant an escape route—or a few.

   Most merfolk were already making plans to move and disappear. Many were seriously considering going back to The City, the safest place on Earth for their kind. And that was all good and well for adult merfolk, but children and teens simply didn’t have the strength to make the dive deep into the Pacific Ocean to reach it.

   That placed Julian in an impossible situation. Three of his sons couldn’t swim back to The City until they were older, which meant he needed a place on the surface to hide his family. Right now it was just a contingency plan, and Julian was subtle about it. Chris doubted his little brothers had caught on the meaning of this trip, and they both liked it that way.

   Alaska was a reasonable place to settle in. Familiar to an extent, and with perfect weather for their needs. He knew Drake was pursuing Iceland, an equally reasonable place. Both Drake and Julian were working hard for the UN talks to work—and to keep the US relatively happy—but the world was large and vast, and too many interests were suddenly looking at how to exploit merfolk.  

   “Christopher?” Julian said behind him, in a way that implied he’d been calling him a few times.

   “Sorry, I was just thinking about moving to this place. It’s beautiful.”

   “It’s quite rural,” Julian said with a thoughtful look as he sat beside his son. “I’m not sure your brothers would appreciate that.” They both smiled. “It’s certainly far more than I had for a while after coming out of The City, but at that time, electricity wasn’t a thing. The whole world was rural back then.”

   “Did you ever miss The City? During those years?”

   “I missed…some things. I certainly didn’t like many things I had to deal with on the surface. I still don’t like many of those, actually. But you don’t get mountains in The City. Much less snow or lakes.”

   “You can’t win them all, huh?” Chris said, earning a laugh from his dad. Chris winced a moment later as a muscle in his leg strained from sitting so long. “I need to stretch,” he added as his attention diverted to his legs. Stretching had become a routine by now, and although it mostly worked in the short term, it was no solution for his weak muscles. “I bet you have some very interesting stories from back then…” Chris trailed off on purpose to prompt an answer from his father. Julian never talked about those years, or basically those centuries.

   His father was far more interested in Chris’s stretching than dodging any bait. He’d been asking lately how things were going with his therapy, apparently concerned Chris hadn’t yet fully recovered. “Hmm,” Julian murmured at length, refocusing on Chris’s eyes. “The fact that we don’t age has always been the hardest aspect of living up here. And it’s getting harder to conceal as technology advances. I always forget how fast humans age and how soon we find ourselves changing identities.”

   “Is it time for a new last name?”

   Julian smiled as Christopher finished his routine. “Maybe. But it’s certainly nothing I’m doing today. Let’s give your brothers a lesson in speed.”

  Julian disappeared into the lake, and a moment later, Chris followed. The world and its dangers could wait for another day.

* * *

If Drake had to pick one city in the whole world to be the last one he would see, it would be New York. He had history with this place, with every bridge and every park, with both the new and the old. Time had tried its hardest to transform many aspects of it in the last decades, but it could never change its character. Few things from his centuries-old memories remained intact, and although many things had indeed risen and reshaped New York City, its atmosphere always welcomed him. Rebellious and untamed, rich and full of life. The perfect place to hide in plain sight.

   “We’ve checked every clause, and we think it’s sound,” Diana said from the couch. Her apartment was tiny when compared to the Brookses’ penthouse, but Drake loved how the smell of coffee easily reached every corner of her home. The meeting with the UN loomed on the horizon, and both parties were eager to sit down and talk. Well, he was eager to sit down and talk. The Council—including Julian—wasn’t so happy about it.

   “And they’re okay with the fact that I’ll be coming alone?” he asked his adopted niece. Diana had been a clever asset to infiltrate the UN’s committee for dealing with merfolk. Not only was she smart, she was a natural negotiator, much like her human counterpart, Nathan Forest.

   She nodded. “They think it has to do with security and not exposing any more merfolk identities, but it won’t take them long to understand we’re a divided nation.”

   Drake sighed. He had to calm human fears about merfolk, and deal with human greed when it came to the advantages of enslaving them. The Council argued that too much was on the balance for them to handle alone, but The City was not forthcoming with any plans, and the surface merfolk had real concerns about being hunted or exposed. In the end, the Council had agreed to preliminary talks, a show of good faith with the UN. At the very least, they had to prove themselves intelligent and competent to negotiate with, even if they would have to disclose secrets they’d rather not share.

   “You look tense,” she said after a moment, worried. “If it’s not to your liking, we can go back and rewrite—”

   “It’s not that. The UN, the talks—we can’t prepare any further. We’re as ready as we’ll ever be.”

   “It’s what comes after that worries you?” she asked, slightly biting her lower lip. It reminded Drake that she had barely reached adulthood. How cruel was fate to deny her centuries of life free from the burden of being exposed. If things went wrong, this generation of mermen and mermaids would have to deal with a far darker place than Drake ever had.

   “It’s not what but who is not on the table that worries me, actually,” he confided.

   “You mean The City,” she said, arching an eyebrow. “But they’re okay with this, right? I mean, they have to be okay. They were certainly okay with leaving Chris as a liaison between both worlds, right? This is a far better plan, by any measure.”

   At twenty-seven, Diana was still considered a minor in merfolk society, and not suited to discuss Council and City plans. But this young woman in front of him had more sense than half The City down there, not to mention that she was one month away from turning twenty-eight. It was her right to ask entrance to The City, but he had no idea if that would be safer than the surface right now.

   “The City isn’t talking to us. Since Wallace’s execution and Jason’s departure, they have been a tomb. They wanted to delay these talks for decades but not out of fear of what humans might do to us. They’re far more concerned with a mass exodus that would cripple The City’s life as they know it. They can’t risk it—and neither can we. There’s no way four thousand new merfolk on the surface won’t fall prey to unscrupulous hands without some serious planning on our side. Our safety has always been in anonymity, and we can’t ensure their safety if they all come out at once.”

   Diana chuckled without humor. “You and Mom have always painted The City as this totalitarian golden cage, where your thoughts are public domain and the landscape never changes—”

   “It is.”

   “Right. It’s just weird to hear you say you don’t want our people to escape it, that’s all.”

   “Not if they’re changing a golden cage for a glass cell, and in the process get us all captured.”

   “Well, hopefully the UN won’t allow that,” she said with an optimistic smile that did little to ease Drake’s thoughts. On paper, the UN could offer the sun and the stars, but in reality, they were little more than a polite man asking to please behave nicely at a dinner party. The UN might be Drake’s first step, but it wasn’t his only one. He had a meeting with Major White, an unofficial one, to discuss US interests and how they related to merfolk, and he was willing to bet other governments would soon knock on his door. If he played his cards right, things could go well enough that he wouldn’t have to run to Iceland on the next flight. If he played them wrong, though—

   An alert on his computer distracted him.

   “What is it?” Diana asked.

   “I’m not sure, yet. I’ve been placing some flags within the Pentagon. They have really funny ideas on how to try to find The City, but have some more practical ones on how to find us on the surface. Military Intelligence seems to be focusing on Brooks Inc. technology, which is a total waste of time—Oh, this is interesting…” Drake trailed off as he started looking into his alert. Diana placed her laptop beside her and stood up to read over Drake’s shoulder.

   “Brazil?”

   “Mhm. Mireya hasn’t been able to find anything useful regarding the Brazil incident, but she’s not the only one looking.”

   “I thought it was a hoax like all the others.”

   Around the world, dozens of coastal cities, towns, and villages claimed merfolk were coming to their shores. The latest one to get any meaningful coverage had happened in Brazil two months ago, but nothing had come out of it. Nothing but blaming it on Wallace, though Drake knew better—and so did the Pentagon.

   He narrowed his eyes as he looked into what the Navy was investigating. Each arm of the military had a different approach to the “merfolk problem”, as they called it. Even the Air Force had a team looking into something related to them, but it was the Navy that had the most to gain. Not only were merfolk able to go where no submarine ever could, they had an entire city underwater completely functional and camouflaged. That kind of technology meant a jump in light years when it came to structures under extreme pressure, not to mention a stealth level that guaranteed complete anonymity. When it came to negotiating, the Navy had always been the obvious option.

   “We know it was real, but we think whoever the merman was got away. Unfortunately, not one of my contacts has called me with any useful information, and the trail has gone cold after a month of no new leads.”

   “Well, if you can’t find it, then nobody can,” Diana said with conviction.

   “Hmm,” Drake said as he finished checking his alert. “Maybe all I need is better contacts.”

* * *

“The only real thing that is worrying Drake is The City,” Diana said over the phone to Nathan Forest. Her UN colleague had become an unexpected confidant when it came to her merfolk duties, especially when they both wanted the UN talks with Drake to work as best as they could.

   “I’m beginning to think you guys have a love-hate relationship with your city.”

   Diana smiled. “You have no idea. There’s something else regarding this thing in Brazil. My mom is being really quiet about it, and this is the first time in a month that Drake has even mentioned it.”

   “Maybe you’re reading too much into it. The UN has—”

   “—already said it’s another hoax, I know. The thing is, there’s a lot of information I’m not old enough to know, but you would think that being four weeks away from my birthday and officially joining the ranks of adulthood, they would start telling me things,” she said with more frustration than she intended. She glared at the ceiling as if she were glaring at the world. “But this isn’t even about me. I think this has something to do with whatever deal Drake made with Major White. Honestly, that scares me the most.”

   “What does your mother think?”

   She laughed in a dark tone. “My mother is a Council member first and foremost. Short of me dying, she won’t disclose what goes on in those sessions with me.”

   Nathan sighed on the other side, probably not keen on remembering that she had almost died not two months ago. The whole Wallace thing still made her skin crawl, but she’d found a strange, morbid pleasure in bringing her almost-death into conversations as often as she could. If that wasn’t scaring Nathan away, nothing else would.

   “But do you know what?” she continued. “Maybe not having The City meddling in these talks is the best thing that could happen to us. They have plenty of reasons to object. I mean, Christopher falling into human hands was an accident, but everything else—well, let’s just say the surface Council has pretty much disregarded any advice from them, and Wallace’s execution using Scott was probably not how they would have handled the whole thing.”

   “You think The City would want to cancel the talks?”

   “It’s a possibility. But Drake wants this, Nate, he really, really wants it. The only way he won’t do it is if the Council votes against it, and right now it’s four votes against one.” She sighed, resigned. “All I want is for things to work out, you know?”

   “We’ll make them work out. He’s not the only one who really, really wants it.”

   She laughed a real laugh this time. “Some days, I wake up thinking that the only way this is going to happen is if the UN ends up kidnapping Drake.”

   “Don’t tempt me, Diana. I might just be desperate enough to make that happen.”

   They both laughed, but she had the uneasy feeling Nathan wasn’t entirely joking.

 

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Underground - A Merfolk Secret / Excerpt

Uncharted Territory - Excerpt
 

On her Wall of Truth, Kate Banes added a line about a news article speculating whether Brooks Inc. was considering taking over a small group of companies in Alaska. Since she and Jeff had discovered that “David Brooks” hadn’t aged a day, they had started wondering when Julian Brooks was going to announce his early retirement, and if that meant Christopher would take over the boat empire.

On the left side of the whiteboard, she had a special space reserved for her ongoing investigation: What happened in Brazil? Major White had implied the incident was real but not related to Wallace, as David Brooks had told her. A lot of reporters had pursued that story, and half believed it was a hoax, while the other half believed it was a government cover-up. She knew it was real, she just didn’t know where the dots would take her.

A knock on her door brought her back to the here and now.

“Your ten o’clock is here,” Jeff said, bringing a package to her desk. “And here are all the stories about Brooks Inc. from the past six days. You’re slacking off, Kate,” he joked. She’d been following so many leads that she was getting behind on her daily Brooks reading, but that was nothing a good cup of coffee and the weekend couldn’t solve.

Ever since Julian Brooks had come into her office and nearly seen her Wall of Truth, Kate didn’t allow anyone into her four walls. She met everyone in a conference room, and the man who had requested a meeting today was no different.

Patrick O’Connor was an independent top journalist who did research for major newspapers all over the world. She’d met him once a couple of years ago at a journalism ethics conference in Seattle, but that was as far as their paths had crossed. However, Kate had no doubt that Patrick was here for one reason alone: merfolk.

Veritas Co. was the news company that had out-scooped everyone when it came to merfolk stories. Even now, their speculative articles on merfolk life on the surface—presented as theories and not real life, even if they were one hundred percent accurate—had an active social media community and a wide range of readers. They had also been the ones to bring Roy Wallace, allegedly the first known merfolk hunter on the planet, into the light, and that had set the virtual world on fire.

As she entered the conference room, she wondered where Roy Wallace really was, and what would happen to him when the merfolk found him.

Patrick stood up to meet her, forcing her to look up, up, up. The guy was easily six feet tall, and as he shook her hand with a smile, his baby-blue eyes were already calculating how he was going to sweet talk her.

“Miss Banes, it’s so nice to finally meet you,” he said, as they both took a seat.

“Kate, please. I have to admit, your e-mail sounded rather intriguing. You said you wanted to share some sensitive information?”

He nodded, bringing a suitcase to the table. “I’m sure you must be bombarded every day with questions to reveal your sources—”

“Tons. But the ones threatening to expose me as a hack for fabricating that merfolk are real are the ones that truly make my day.”

Patrick took out a manila envelope, along with a pack of enlarged photographs. “I gotta say, what I find the most fascinating about your news coverage is that, for all you’ve managed to uncover, it must be very frustrating that you never got to see the merman in real life.”

The image of Scott Brooks glaring at her from the back seat of her car flashed into her mind. She’d seen the pale scales on his face—had driven him to Dr. Higgs so he wouldn’t bleed out, as a matter of fact—but Patrick here was right about one thing: she’d never met Christopher Brooks. His father, his “uncle”, and his little brother, sure, but not the merman himself.

“Well, you know how it is. I’m just happy there is enough evidence for the public to know. I can only imagine what we’ll discover tomorrow.”

Something about his smile made her uneasy.

“Well, Kate, I’ve been doing my own research for the past six months, and I think there’s much more to the story than you’re letting on.”

She blinked, feeling an imaginary spotlight encasing her. “I’m not sure I’m following you.”

“I was late to the party, I’ll admit that,” he said. “By the time I arrived in Maine, the town was already talking about commissioning a statue to preserve the exact place where Neil Thompson found Ray, the merman.” He paused to show her the first image of the beach, now a tourist trap that sold everything from keychains to magnets, towels to umbrellas, all printed with mermaids, mermen, fins, or scales. “So you see, I had to backtrack through a lot of rumors, misinformation, and non-existent witnesses. Even the hospital staff has clamped down after months of harassment.”

“There’s only so much you can say about an event,” she said, thinking back to the day when the hospital doctors had called a press conference to declare that merfolk were real.

“Exactly. So instead of threading where everybody threaded, I decided to thread where you had threaded.”

An alarm bell rang loud and clear in her head. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I’m sure I sound like a stalker, but hear me out,” he continued, presenting the next photograph of the hospital ER, a trauma room, and a blurry image of a hall. “There’s a reason why Veritas Co. broke this history-changing event first, so I reframed my research into understanding why. And to answer that, I went looking into what Veritas Co. was doing at the time of these events. Interestingly enough, you were in that exact same town in Maine the days after Ray arrived in the human world, but before it became worldwide news.”

“I was following an ‘internet hoax’ video,” she said, leaning against the back of the chair. “I thought it was a clever story, but ultimately, we wanted to unmask the truth. And we did. It just turned out that it wasn’t a hoax. Nothing but us doing our job, I’m afraid.”

He nodded, but she knew he wasn’t convinced. “Of course. I found traces of your own research as I did mine. It turns out a couple of hospital employees remembered you when I showed them your picture. One nurse in serious need of people skills, and a chatty janitor named Johnny.” He showed her the next photograph of an older man wearing a janitor uniform, holding a card with her name.

Johnny had stolen Christopher Brooks’s watch when it had been discarded in the ER, and sold it to her for ten grand. She’d given him the card so they could arrange the payment, and then she’d taken the watch to an expert, who had ultimately told her it belonged to Julian Brooks.

“You recognize him,” Patrick said with a smile that did little to settle her stomach. “He told me this incredible tale about a merman who wears watches. Diving watches, if I’m not mistaken.”

She leaned against the table, nodding. “He did sell us one very expensive diving watch. But we could never back it up. It’s not in the videos. Not in Neil Thompson’s original video, and not in any of the hospital videos other patients shot. It was a dead end.”

He nodded again, thoughtful. “I thought the same. I mean, I watched all those videos to the point I can recall them second by second. The things we do for our job,” he said, shrugging.

“I’m sorry, Patrick, I just—I’m not sure what you want me to say. I still don’t know what you want or why you’re here.”

“Honestly? I was hoping you would let me see the watch.”

She shook her head. “We no longer have it.”

“Not even pictures of it?”

“Between you and me? Let’s just say that buying potential stolen property is not exactly something my editor wants to admit, or cares to have a registry for. It’s as if it never happened.”

“It was a long shot,” Patrick said, smirking. “But even without the watch, maybe you’ll want to shed some light on some of my theories. Maybe you’ll want to add something else to this crazy merman story.”

“This ‘crazy merman story’ is unfortunately also my story. I can’t share any information with you, I’m sure you understand.”

“Right. We have such competitive jobs,” he joked, slipping his pictures back into the suitcase. But just when Kate thought this thing was over, he opened the manila folder he’d left out. Printouts and more photographs followed, along with receipts and handwritten notes. When he showed her the next photograph, she saw the fancy hotel where Julian Brooks had taken up residence while plotting how to get his son out of ORCAS. “So I went back to stalking you. The day Ray became known to the public, you checked into this five star hotel for three nights, a far cry from your motel when you were just following an internet hoax.”

It took her a second too long to come up with a suitable explanation, and he held up his hand before she could even start a reply. “Wait, let me finish. I think by that point you’d discovered something really big, big enough for Veritas Co. to foot the bill.”

“You think so?” she asked, with a nonchalant air. She reminded herself that if Patrick knew the entire story, he wouldn’t be telling it to her. No, if he knew the truth, he would be selling it to the highest bidder. “But, I’m afraid that’s none of your business.”

“Come on Kate, knowing is our business. So, here I am, staying at this fancy hotel of yours, thinking: ‘how does a merman get a diving watch, and how does that connect back to this hotel?’ So I went researching diving and Maine, and do you know what was dominating the news cycle in those days?”

Christopher Brooks’s diving accident, the words flashed in red bold letters in her mind at the same time Patrick said them.

“Shouldn’t you be talking to Christopher Brooks, then?” she asked, unwilling to let him see how much he was rattling her.

“He’s kind of a hard guy to find. Plus, research has been…well, consuming. Now, I have all these theories about how Christopher Brooks’s diving accident resulted in a merman wearing a diving watch in the ER the next day, and how his absurdly wealthy father was able to cover that fact up. And then I also have all these other theories as to how you found out, and for some reason worked out an agreement to get these exclusive stories before anybody else.”

She laughed, unexpectedly and a little too high-pitched. She’d sat down with Julian Brooks for one very short dinner to say almost the exact same thing, except she’d known the merman was Christopher, and at that time there was no deal on exclusive stories. If Patrick had followed another set of breadcrumbs to arrive at a dangerously similar conclusion, then she was doomed.

“So, what?” she asked, slightly apologetic for her outburst, “You think I’m part of some sort of cover up by a multi-million company and the government to hide merfolk?”

His eyes lit up. “Who said anything about the government?”

“Isn’t that a standard checkbox for all conspiracies?” she replied smoothly. “Look, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but how and when we find our stories here at Veritas has nothing to do with secret deals. We work hard, we follow leads.”

Patrick looked at her, his hands resting on the stack of papers and photographs. “I know where my leads are taking me, Kate. I might not have all the pieces, but I have enough. You’re a good journalist, and I don’t have to tell you how important this story is. Don’t be greedy now, this is bigger than you or this news outlet. Whatever your reasons to keep hiding things, I’m giving you this chance to come clean before this whole thing falls on your head. And don’t think for one moment it won’t.”

His words lingered in the air for just a little bit too long.

“I think you should leave,” Kate said, standing up.

He nodded once. “I’m sure we’ll see each other around.”

Underground - A Merfolk Secret is coming out in April, 2018.

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Undercurrent - Extra Scene | Hangover

Undercurrent – A Merfolk Myth

~ Extras ~

Extra scene: Hangover

This is set on chapter 14, the day after Gwen met with Nathan, Higgs, and Andrew at the bar in Brooklyn. A little Gwen-Jason interaction.
 

Gwen winced at the sunlight streaming in the living room, and shivered as she felt the current of air coming from the balcony. Jason was a quiet, gracious guest, but his tendency of wanting to see sunlight in the middle of winter was annoying the hell out of her.

Or maybe it’s just the hangover talking.

“Morning,” he said when he saw her coming.

“Well, at least someone looks happy,” she said as she sat down on the kitchen. To her surprise, pancakes and coffee were waiting for her. She wasn’t sure her stomach was up to the task, but the thought was certainly appreciated.

“Here, drink this,” he told her as he handed her a glass with a slightly blue-tinted liquid. It was cold, and her first instinct was to press it against her forehead. He laughed. “Drink it.”

“What is it?”

“Magic,” he said with a perfect smile.

I bet girls fall at your feet all the time, she mused while drinking the slightly salty concoction.

“So, how did it go with the Council?” she asked, the glass half empty.

He winced. “I might have been too honest. These video calls are so hard to read.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I rely on telepathy to understand the intention of what you’re saying. You can’t do that to a machine.”

“No, you rely on body language for that,” Gwen stated, and then finished the glass. “Am I going to grow a tail after this?”

“What is your obsession with turning into a mermaid?” he asked, a confused smile on his face. “I’ve seen those swimmers around.”

“What swimmers? Oh, wait, you mean SWIMMERs. Yeah those people are nuts. If this whole Wallace business comes into the light, it will certainly kill their love for your people but fast.”

A shadow passed over his eyes.

“Are you feeling better?”

Gwen blinked. Her headache was receding, and she didn’t feel so heavy. Even the light wasn’t so bright anymore. Looking at the empty glass, she started to feel hungry.

“You did this?”

“Yeah. You had everything I needed in your kitchen.”

“How did you know?”

“I’m a biochemist. Well, I think that’s the equivalent.”

“Weren’t you a policeman?”

“I can’t be both?”

She contemplated that for a second, and shrugged. "You guys are full of surprises, aren't you?"

Featurette: Ask Julian