Water's Break

·• PROLOGUE •·

In the beginning was the Deep.

The Deep was whole and covered all.

The Deep was whole and supported all.

In the Deep was life and peace.

The Deep was complete.

We loved and lived in the Deep.

Giving and receiving,

sharing space, sharing life.

Inhabiting the shallows and the depths,

loving the surface light and the colder climes.

We were farmers, teachers, and explorers,

but more than anything, we were lovers,

knowing and being known.

Without fear, without hesitation.

We dwelt in communion.

Until the Water broke.

from the Song of Endings

Jonnat’s Verse

1

·• HOLDFAST •·

NICA shrank into the kelp forest, thankful for the camouflage its dappled greens provided. Trusting the massive plants’ grasp on the ocean floor, she wrapped her legs around a towering stalk, ignoring the prickles that grabbed at her skin. A frond brushed the welts on her hand and she winced, squinting with dismay at the angry streak, bright red and stark against her green webbing. Fire corals should be left alone, as the Deep intended, not braided into a trellis. Why did she ever agree to lead Rissa’s nuptial pod?

Hold fast.

Her heart thumped, threatening to expose her. Slow. She forced it to calm, quieting the thuds until they barely sent a ripple through the forest.

Her sister’s mood rode the currents well ahead of her presence. Even at this distance, Nica could feel Rissa’s blood pressure rise.

You can’t hide forever.

She fought the urge to dart as Rissa drew closer. She was still not near enough to detect her. Unless I do something stupid. Nica dared not move, even to maintain her position amidst the swaying kelp.

Temperature. Focus, Nica. She closed her eyes. Decrease heat output. Constricting pores would regulate her body temperature so she could blend in with the ambient waters.

Her chest ached from the mad dash for cover, but she resisted the urge to gulp. Instead, she extended her jaw into a wide gape. The waters drifted freely across her fluttering lung linings, steeping them with the gasses needed, carrying away what was not.

Show yourself, Rissa demanded.

Nica’s sensory pores ached from the tension in Rissa’s words—so compressed, squeezed through tightened lips.

No one can see me in this kelp, so there’s no need to panic. Threading one arm along the wafting blades, she wrapped the other around her radiating curls, moving with care, trying not to disturb the surrounding currents. If only my hair were green, as well. She would have bound it after firstmeal, but hiding had not been on the agenda when she’d left the cavern.

Where are those magmas when I need them? The bright orange guardfish were one of the few denizens that matched her lava-colored mane. Without a decoy, anyone within sight-distance could notice the glint of her straying tendrils, even at this depth’s light. Not that there was much to see by. The breaking sun’s light was more shadow than shine. The unseasonable chill sent a shudder down her dorsals.

Rissa’s voice washed against her, tinged with frustration. You know I’ll find you. I always do.

Nica quelled her alarm. Signals of panic would give her away, even if her hair didn’t.

She tasted the streams winding around her, sifting through particles in the kelp and brine. Currents were propelling matter from the ocean floor. She glanced up at the canopy of waves. A rising current this early? It wasn’t even close to sunpeak. Shells! How did she miss that? She scanned for better cover.

A face as green as hers shot into view, grinning with triumph. She’s here.

Kel. You eel. Nica launched off the kelp stalk, barreling headfirst at her brother.

Kel dodged her with practiced ease. You really want every Olomi in the Deep to know you’re such a larva? He swished by and tugged at the bright yellow and black braided cords that hung from her tunic with a scoff. These don’t mean much if you act like a fry.

You’ve had Guardian cords for three cycles, Nica retorted, and you still spend every free ripple competing on that jump team.

He’s right, you know. Rissa’s signal arrived just before she floated into sight. You’re an Olomi Guardian, not a flathead. Stop hiding just because I want you to lead my nuptial pod when I bond with Jonnat.

You mean weed-dragon, Nica murmured into the stream.

Excuse me? Rissa closed the distance between them, her rosette-lined eyebrows raising with her tone. Even in her ire, her sister’s pink elegance shimmered as Nica’s greens never would.

Flatheads hide in the sand. Weed-dragons use kelp. So technically—

Heat radiated from Rissa.

Nica changed course, descending in hasty deference to their eldest. I mean, I’m honored to be at your side when you make your vows. You just didn’t warn me that being your prime attendant meant party planning and making decorations. Look—she lifted her hands—coral burns. You know I’m no good with braids. She grimaced.

Oh swish, don’t be a minnow. Rissa sniffed. You can’t feel anything on webbing.

But that wrap, Nica persisted, I can’t take in a decent draught, let alone swim straight wearing that dress.

I’m in Jonnat’s nuptial pod and you don’t see me darting for cover. Kel whisked behind, pulling at her hair.

Eel. Nica whirled to face him, trying to suppress the rise he’d successfully provoked. All you have to do is show up in a formal tunic. You have no real responsibilities. As usual.

What’s that? Can’t hear you. Kel tweaked her hair again as he slipped past.

Kel! Rissa’s rebuke resonated with overtones of their mother. Stop harassing Nica. You should be an example. You’re older, and you’re a higher ranked Guardian.

She scolded Kel without shifting her stance, unmoved by the currents. Even her braids, thick and black as Ìyá’s, draped perfectly down her dorsal, accenting her pale pink skin and the dark red rosettes that graced her sensory lines.

"And Nica, do you think being my prime attendant means the tide is about you? It’s my bonding. It will be as I want it. When you make your bonding vows, you can make your own decisions."

Don’t you mean if, Sisi? Kel darted past with another jab.

Kel!

He shrugged. Did my job. You wanted to find her. Didn’t sign on for a lecture.

With a swish, he was gone.

Nica watched his wake, wishing she could follow. Even if he is an eel.

Now can we please do something about this tangle? Rissa sighed and removed a starfish from Nica’s hair.

Ow! A snort of bubbles erupted. I’m a Guardian. Not a showpiece.

I’m not saying that. It’s just, you should try to act more mature, like, well, like . . . 

I don’t need to act like you. She blew a thin stream at a tendril dangling from her forehead. I’m a—

"I know, I know. Honestly, Nica, you’ve been saying the same thing since you were eight. ‘I want to be a Guardian, just like Bàbá.’ It’s been ten cycles and you’ve earned your cords. Mission accomplished. Would it kill you to stop acting like an urchin?"

Nica wriggled out of her sister’s reach. Not all of us can get paid to be pretty. So what if I’m not perfect like you? Maybe I want to actually make a difference.

She regretted the words as soon as she said them, but it was too late. The barb had struck its mark.

The rosettes marking Rissa’s sensory lines flushed dark red, but Nica clung to her glare, refusing to yield.

Sisẹ. Rissa rested her hands on Nica’s shoulders. You don’t have to be a Guardian to help people. You could be a healer or a teacher.

Nica shrugged her sister off, clenching onto her cords. I could also be a—

Flashes of blue flitted throughout the unusually dark kelp forest. Nica frowned, rotating slowly. Morning shadows should have given way to the sun by now.

Why are the night fish rising?

Arrival

We hang, motionless. Appearing lifeless, though life is the objective. But first, destruction. We have traveled far, and long, without life to interrupt our synchronized approach.

We hang, motionless. Designed neither for beauty nor speed, but survival. Blinking, silent, against the void. Anticipation without desire. Expectation without hope. We wait.

We hang, motionless. Tracking with the womb that will receive our charges. The home to replace that which was spent. But before implantation, this world must be conformed.

Medical Officer’s Journal:

upon entering orbit planet Aquan

2

·• BREAKING •·

GRIT and seaweed buffeted Nica in the briny turbulence. Thrashing against churning eddies, she fought to reach the ocean’s inky canopy. Night fish, glowing blue against the darkness, darted between her legs, flashing as they swarmed through tangled greens. Cete and squid hunted in the chaos, chasing their nocturnal feast as they did every night.

Except it was sunpeak.

Her sister’s call cut through the roiling currents. Get back down to the reef.

Can’t . . . Nica paused amid the rising shoals of limbed and finned creatures. Something’s wrong up top. It shouldn’t be this dark.

Teeth clamped against the whirling sediment, she flushed her lungs with water and launched with a scissor kick. She breached the waves, then gasped, but not from the unusual chill.

Rissa lunged out of the foam by her side. What do you mean, it shouldn’t be . . . her voice faded.

The sisters floundered, speechless, at the veil filling the sky. Never before had the view of the heavens been blocked. Sunpeak’s light was banished. Darkness blanketed the Deep.

Winds lashed the water’s surface, the waves hurling peaks at them and the other Olomi who emerged from the protection of the sea. Brightly colored Olomi—yellows, oranges, and pinks—bobbed in sharp contrast to the murky waves. The darker blues, grays, and greens were harder to distinguish against the ocean’s shrouded face. All battled the tempest as gloom engulfed the horizon.

Nica? Rissa grabbed her arm. Flecks of seafoam scattered from the delicate webbing between her trembling fingers and her rosettes paled to ash as she pointed.

Nica tracked her sister’s point to a break in the unnatural cover. The darkness had spawned a host of shades. Great columns, black as orcas and twice as large, plummeted toward the surface like spears launched from the sky. Shadows took on substance, form, and force, piercing the water’s surface.

The Deep has been violated.

Her Guardian training kicked in. Even a rookie didn’t need to understand a threat’s nature to recognize danger.

"Dive!" she screamed at the surfaced Olomi before she plunged below.

Shock waves thrust her back like a piece of debris. Pulses concussed all around, leaving her sore and spent. She tried to take a reading, to gather any information on the attack that fell from above.

Solid. Smooth. No limbs or fins. No life signs. But—vibrations?

Heat followed, emanating in waves as the closest projectile streaked to the depths.

She jerked back. It was boiling the water!

Rissa. Avoid the wake. Nica pushed her message as far as she could. The water-trail burns.

There was no response.

"Rissa? . . . Rissa!"

A deep rumble reverberated through her pores and down to her bones. She clamped her hands over her ears, but could not block all her receptors. The seabed trembled and its waters vibrated as the skies above the surface darkened once again.

Powerful swells sent her tumbling as a mass wider than a seamount descended into the churning surf. Helpless, she tucked into a ball until a surge slammed her against a rock wall.

Sea green faded to black.

REPORT

STASIS REGENERATIVE CYCLE COMPLETE

INITIATE NUTRITIVE BATH . . .

INITIATE MUSCLE STIMULATION . . .

INITIATE GRAVITATIONAL ADJUSTMENT . . .

RESTORATIVE PROCESS COMPLETE

EOR

3

·• AFTERMATH •·

DARKNESS. Nica writhed, only to find her limbs restrained by tether-like tentacles, squeezing and biting into her flesh. She squinted, opening her eyes just a crack. Black spots swarmed all around, but shaking her head to clear them was a mistake. Waves of nausea battered her, further blurring her vision.

Focus . . . on something. Anything.

Her head throbbed, with spikes of pain reverberating against her skull. Hints of blood wafted past and put every receptor on alert. She tasted the water as her heart began to pound.

Old blood. Not fresh. Not mine. Dilating the pores along her sensory lines, she sifted the streams for threat indicators. No predators, at least.

She struggled to tear free of the prickly float-weed and hair moss tangled in the kelp, but her efforts were futile.

She bit down on the brambles with a shudder. The bitter leaves set her teeth on edge, stinging her lips, but its mild toxin failed to numb her taste buds. Accumulated bits of rot spread from the spines onto her tongue. Her stomach threatened to revolt. In through the nose. Out through the mouth. The leathery fronds gave way and Nica broke from the seaweeds.

Taking in a large gulp to steady herself, she studied her surroundings. Nothing was familiar.

Where am I? What happened? And where’s Rissa?

Fragmented images trickled into her consciousness. The shadow. The splashdowns. Of all the storms she’d seasoned, none ever displayed this kind of violence from the heavens.

With the increase in clarity, even her pain took on a pattern. The hammering in her head wasn’t an attack, but a percussive sending—widespread and long-ranged signals to broadcast a communiqué across many waters.

ALL GUARDIANS: REPORT

Nica searched for something hard to beat out a message. Her message might need to travel far. There was nothing.

ALL GUARDIANS: STATUS REPORT

She spat out bits of weed and fiber, hoping her clicks could reach a relay.

Guardian Relay, Nica, reporting.

NICA: REPORT LOCATION.

Then, Nica. Report location. Her father’s sounding replaced the relay’s staccato broadcast, firm but insistent.

More sob than sound emerged as she whispered, Bàbá, I don’t know.

REPORT

DELPH 5 REPORT

CONCUSSION CHARGES ACTIVATED

SAMPLES ACQUIRED

INITIATE CONDITIONING

Technology Reclamation Engineer: Cryogenic Husbandry

EOR

4

·• RESCUE •·

HURRICANES and maelstroms warred above and below the face of the Deep. Olomi who sought safety in the depths met destruction when lava erupted from the fractured core. Relentless need surrounded Nica and desperate cries flooded her. The clamor of panic and despair competed with her father’s transmission, almost drowning it out.

She closed her eyes to the vortex of chaos and focused on his signal. Enhanced by their blood bonds, family ties forged by time and heritage reinforced the connection all shared in the Deep—communion. Bàbá’s message prevailed, resonating along the receptors under her dark green striations, relaying her mother’s position. A draught escaped her lips as the tension slipped away.

Nica pivoted to dive as her father’s signal reverberated through the tumult again. Kel. Jonnat. With me.

Heat rose in her chest and her cheeks greened with envy. He always chooses Kel. Breathing deeply to quell her own storm, she kicked off, hoping no one would pick up on the hardening knot of resentment.

Bàbá flashed through the waters, maintaining the lead. His darker green was the only indication of the decades separating him from Kel and Jonnat. Hard-pressed to match their senior in strength or speed, the bright green and blue streaks of the younger Olomi pursued, but could not flank him. Schooling with precision, they sped to evacuate the next lava flow. Nica tracked them as long as she could, but as she neared her assignment, any trace of their presence had been swallowed by the Deep.

Turbulent emotions roiled through the currents as Nica approached her ìyá’s work site, but the physical devastation before her was beyond anything she could have imagined. Obsidian totems that had graced the entrances to these spacious caverns lay askew, haphazardly strewn across the seascape as if a gam of whales had swum amok. Intricately carved columns, once documenting the legacy of the residents, now threatened their lives. The seabed had heaved, and structures built on it could not withstand the storm.

It was more than Nica could bear. Unwilling to add her voice to the chaos, she searched for Ìyá, scanning for her braid, glossy and black against her vibrant scarlet markings. There! Joy shot through her. She swooped down to her mother’s side. Ìyá will know what to do.

Bàbá sent me.

Oh, good. Ìyá smiled briefly and passed Nica a struggling fry. Take him to the healer’s station.

Ìyáaaaaaaaaaaaa! The child howled for his mother, the translucent wash of his cheeks flushing bright yellow, then paused mid-wail to take in another draught. Nica winced as piercing shrieks flew from his orange-banded lips. His waves of distress assaulted her, furiously buzzing her receptors and threatening to crash her sensory canals. She held him at arm’s length, frozen at the auditory and emotional onslaught. Her gaze lifted from the fry to the devastated homes surrounding them. Too much. Can’t—

Nica. Ìyá’s voice pushed through the surge of panic. Breathe with me.

She closed her eyes and matched her mother’s deliberate breaths, slowly cycling water until the pressure in her head receded and her heartbeat slowed to a less frantic pace.

Now, have the healers check him, Ìyá said, then turned back to pry another large stone from the pile.

Nica swam the hysterical child over to the healer’s shelter. She drew him in close, like Ìyá did, but her charge pushed with all his might against the embrace. She whispered words of comfort in his ears. He shrieked louder. She tried distracting him with swooping and bouncing, then somersaults and rolls, but nothing worked. No matter what she tried, she couldn’t get him to stop. How was it so easy for her mother to soothe him? And me. The world was falling apart, and Ìyá could bring peace in a breath.

Relief washed over Nica when the healer station came in sight. She handed the child, no calmer for her efforts, to the first Olomi displaying green and blue Healer cords, then scooted back as fast as she could. His cries followed her, roiling the waves, as she hurried back to her ìyá, still working to excavate the wreckage that was once a home. Stacked rocks and slabs had once supported the cavern, their decorative carvings enhancing the dwelling. But neither the natural nor Olomi-made structures could withstand the quaking beneath the Deep.

Grit from the crumbling entry arch drifted onto her mother as the excavation continued. Nica ducked under and braced the archway with her back. Straining against the weight despite the stones that dug into her dorsals, she maintained her position until the last section trapping an Olomi woman was removed.

Ìyá pulled the dazed mother free and slipped an arm under her. Now let me get you to the healer station. A little one there will be very happy to see you.

Nica shifted to extricate herself, but an echo of a sob drifted from deeper within the cavern. She ducked her head under the arch, leaning in. Though the structure was unstable, she cast a gentle signal. Is anyone in here?

Not daring to breathe, she waited for a response. Any response.

I . . . I’m stuck. A tremor dislodged portions of the building and sent them tumbling. Bàbá can’t—

Can you move? Nica strained to receive the answer.

—little. The tremulous vibrations pulled at her heart.

A host of possible reasons preventing the father from sounding his call darted through Nica’s thoughts. None were reassuring.

She scanned the area for help, but Ìyá was out of sight and any nearby rescue workers were occupied. Her back was the only thing holding the opening right now, and the last thing she wanted was to end up trapped and needing rescue herself.

There—a pod of juveniles milled about, gawking from the edges.

Hey! Some help here!

The juvies, vibrant in their adolescent blues, greens, and oranges, streamed toward her, bravado and curiosity jostling in the waters surrounding them. A yellow whose markings were just turning opaque trailed behind, emanating uncertainty in all directions.

Yes. All of you! she told the pod. I need you two biggest to take over for me here. Brace the arch. She squeezed through the opening. You three support them. Be ready to help when I signal.

Her young volunteers’ faces were sober as they nodded.

Nica swam through the partially collapsed chambers, testing the current as it snaked around obstacles. She eyed the debris floating down from higher instabilities, studying the supports throughout the structure.

Where are you? She cast her call forward, clicking gently, not wanting to cause any further disturbance. This situation was volatile enough as it stood. I need you to show me.

Another tremor shuddered through the structure.

. . . back . . .

It wasn’t much, faint and disjointed, but the fry was able to project enough for Nica to navigate through the chambers. Careful not to sweep her wake against unstable supports, she wove through fallen beams and leaning slabs until she reached the back of the cavern. This was where the signal had originated.

Nica’s chest tightened as she entered the chamber. The back section had been reduced to a heap of rubble. In the turmoil, the child and father had sought shelter in the place they considered most secure. Rocked to its foundation, their sanctuary could become their tomb.

Hello? she called softly into the room. I’m Nica. She wedged a beam in the doorway as she searched for the occupants. What’s your name?

Ah—Ahnay.

The voice drifted out from the pile of shelving against the back wall. She spied an arm, too dark to be a child’s, protruding awkwardly amid the ruins. Nica checked the orange limb for a pulse and was relieved to discover one, despite the lack of any other response.

Ahnay—that’s a pretty name. She grunted a little as she pushed her shoulder against the slabs resting on the adult’s body. She would not be able to free him without help.

She called out to the juvies at the entrance, trying to avoid unnecessary reverberations in what remained of the structure. I need two of you—back storeroom. Nica projected the path she’d taken in. Stay away from the walls—watch out for falling ceilings.

Silent whimpering drifted over to her from the pile.

Don’t worry, Ahnay. We have some extra help coming. She pulled on a slab of stone wide as her handspan and twice her length. How old are you?

F-four. The fry’s voice shook a little as Nica shifted some of the weight above her.

Such a big girl! The shelf moved a bit, and Nica expelled a deep breath and widened her stance. Ahnay, can you show me your hand?

A translucent hand, orange-tinted and webbed, emerged from under the adult’s arm. Nica grasped it as far past the elbow as she could, and pulled. A little Olomi with orange highlighting along her dorsal line wriggled out and attached herself firmly to her rescuer’s arm.

Let’s see how you are doing. Nica leaned against the debris and pulled Ahnay close, settling her slight form on her hip.

Despite some surface abrasions and bruising, she appeared unhurt, but her lips and cheeks were paling at an alarming rate. Nica brushed aside the sun-white hair and felt her forehead. Too cold. But the father . . . The roof won’t last much longer. Need to get them both out fast.

Ahnay, I need you to be brave for a moment.

The fry nodded, trying to still her trembling lip. Her gaze flicked up to the ceiling, trailing down as another section of stone slid from its mooring and tumbled to the floor, landing as a cloud of debris rose to obscure its presence.

Nica moved her to the center of the room, clear of falling debris. I need to check on your bàbá. Can you stay still while I do that?

The little head bobbed again, fine white hairs pulsing against the current. Wrapping her arms around her knees, Ahnay stuck her thumb in her mouth, eyes fixed on her father’s arm.

Nica braced her shoulder against the layered slabs of stone and pushed. They were too heavy to move. Flipping upside down, she planted her hands on the floor and shoved up against the load with her feet. The inverted position allowed her to reach further under his body to get a better grip, but she still couldn’t budge Ahnay’s father.

She exhaled as the pod streamed in, nodding at the yellow Olomi. This is Ahnay. Watch over her.

The young yellow swooped to Ahnay’s side with a barrel roll finish, teasing a faint smile out of the fry. Hi, Ahnay, I’m Lia.

With Ahnay engaged, Nica beckoned for the older, blue-tinged male to adopt the same inverted position as she was in. Latch on.

With a flex, they activated the hair-like barbs that lined their palms to get a firm grip on the Olomi’s sleek hide. Together, they pried him out from under the load as the weight of the wreckage slid off. The blue tumbled into Lia and Ahnay, setting off a round of giggles.

Their laughter died out as the father’s orange form drifted with the current.

Hey, he’s not moving. Lia pulled Ahnay close, turning the child away from her father’s inert form. He’s not . . .

No, he’s unconscious. I don’t know how bad his injuries are, but without your help, I couldn’t have gotten him. You are official heroes! But now— Another tremor went through the cavern. We need to get out.

Ahnay, honey. More debris tumbled from the ceiling. Let’s bring your bàbá to the healer.

The child nodded, but her orange eyes remained locked onto her father’s still form.

The waters are a little wild out there, so Lia is going to carry you out while, um— she cocked her head at the bright-hued blue.

Jamen. The juvie grunted as he adjusted his grip on the older Olomi’s legs.

—while Jamen and I help your bàbá. Nica and the blue juvie hefted the unconscious father. Your job is to hold on tight.

Yes, Miss Nica. Ahnay nodded and hugged Lia’s neck.

Last moon, I was still in training, too young to help anyone. Now I’m a ‘Miss’ and