Neso

This story is a fictional romance/thriller about a marine biologist whom stumbles upon a merman named Neso.

1

Somewhere off the coast of the Hakai Protected Area

The Pacific northwest waters were unfriendly for a Sunday morning. There were warnings of a storm later in the evening, but as Angel Fairground glanced up at the dark grey sky, she feared it was to be expected sooner. Much sooner. 

There was a rumbling warning of thunder above the chopper as it made its wide circles over the expansion of the grey waters. No lightning yet, but Angel could see the storm gave her a fair warning when it bellowed out another thundering noise in the clouds. She felt rain hit her pale face, peering down at the ocean far below. Its waves became monstrous, like watching a thick herd of white bulls all in  a single file, hurling towards east along the shore line just a mile away. To her left, she could easily see the island in sight, a small oblong shaped dark green land littered with pine trees and rivers. And then to the other, nothing but the dark grey abyss of water, stretching far beyond West.  

Mike, the pilot, had his voice rang in her ear piece. "We should call it a day!" he suggested, sounding anxious. 

Angel's honey eyes kept to the water, her video camera ready. She had spent so much time tracing the route behind a computer, now she had to see if she was right. Though so far, no sign of blow holes spitting up water, nor a tail fin to be spotted. 

"Not yet! I've waited a long time to get this far. This only happens a few times in the year," she shouted back between the strong gusts of wind. 

She leaned as far out as her seat belt would let her, half her body exposed from the chopper, her hand gripped to a rail. The rough winds blew the cold September air into her face, with bits of spritz from the ocean. She tasted salt water on her lips and licked them. Long strands of her dark brown hair came into her eyes and mouth but her attention was elsewhere. 

Another rumble from the sky, telling them it was time to leave. There was a far away flash off somewhere, giving the pilot no more room for discussion. 

"Okay, I'm turning around," he said, and then he switched frequencies to report to the flight tower fifty miles away of his return. 

"Wait!" Angel cried, her eyes sparkling. She finally saw them, the spray of ocean water sprouting just a short distance away. The excitement overcame her and she shouted, "We found them! We found the orcas!" She flipped her waterproof video camera on, and aimed its lens at the upcoming herd of the killer whales that headed North. They were a beautiful sight to see, their black and white skin gleaming each time they revealed a fin or tail. One of them poke its head out, as though curious by the chopper, but it quickly went back to the water's depths. 

They had nicked dorsal fins, indicating to her that they were offshore orcas, so it was puzzling as to why they swam so close to the island. 

The females fins were rounded, and the overall size of the whales were smaller than their local friends. It was like an awakening from a deep slumber of the sea, for dozens of them began to pop out like black and white ovals. 

"They do travel up this far!" she cried in delight, recording with a zoom in feature. 

"Angie, I'm turning around now. The storm is picking up too fast," the pilot commanded. 

She knew he was right, and so she didn't object or complain. Though by tomorrow, if the storm dies, the orcas would be too far south for her to reach with her limited funds. At 90 miles a day, the large herd would reach Washington state waters by then. Her camera continuously recorded footage of the emerging herd, more and more of them appearing by the minute as the pilot twirled the chopper to head east. 

"They appear to be type C due to their small size, the most endangered of the species. Most of them look to be female judging by their fins. I'm guessing that this is a large group of fifty or so," she said to the camera. But before she could turn off the recording, thunder echoed across the sky right above her, causing her to jolt back into her seat so suddenly. Angel adjusted the zipper of her thick jacket with fumbling fingers when the chopper violently bounced up and down. This caused her to gasp, and her grip loosened on her camera till it tumbled across the floor. 

"Oh god, no!" she whispered, trying to reach for her camera before it tumbles through the opened latch and out into the water. 

"Don't worry. It should only take us fifteen minutes to-!" There was a flash of light that brightened up the windows, until Angel felt the chopper jerk as though it had been unexpectedly pushed down from a massive hand above. 

And then it began to spin. 

The pilot panicked, his fingers pressing all the buttons while he shouted in his ear piece to communications, "Matey, matey! We've been hit! Coordinates 51.7 and -128.5!" 

Angel's body was held down firmly by her secured straps, but she could feel the force of the spinning chopper try to pull her body from her stomach to her head. Everything became disorienting, her pack, ultrasound gear, lab kits and laptop flown out and had been given to the ocean. She screamed, her eyes shut as the spinning grew more and more severe till her stomach squeezed so hard against her seat belt, she almost couldn't breathe. Her heart was racing, forcing her hands to mess with the belt's lock but they kept slipping off and falling into the air. 

"Angel! Take off your belt!" she heard Mike's voice shouting through the loud beeping and wailing of his control panel going berserk. A red light flashed in the cockpit and electrical wires began to burst. Angel tried but she kept getting pulled around, her hair wild in her face. 

"Mike!" she screamed, her thumb pressing down on her buckle hard, pressing for anything her shaky fingers could reach. And then she heard the clicking noise of the straps release, and was immediately tossed up into the ceiling like a rag doll. Another spin and she hit the door with a loud thud, smacking her hard on her back to almost exhaust her air supply. One foot slipped out till her whole body followed after and before she could register what was happening, she was suddenly falling. 

Her eyes saw the helicopter spin out of control above her, off to some direction, she wasn't sure, but she was falling straight down, back first as she looked up to her red sneakers reaching for the storm clouds. Another flash of lighting broke out, giving light to the dark day. There was a distant boom sound, but she didn't know if that was thunder or if the chopper had crashed into the ocean. 

Angel would scream but her voice had left her, and her body already felt damaged from hitting the door of the chopper before making her descend. 

The fall felt long, with no telling when it would end. She thought she may die, and so her thoughts reached sanctuary when they soaked into her beloved floating home back in Vancouver BC. A cute two story white cube like structure, floating south of the city, with its back facing Boundary Bay. The water was just two steps from her back door, where she wish she was right now. Just sitting on the wooden porch, her feet playing with the cold water or just watching everything around her as the sun sets. Angel must have been falling for hours, but her mind was just racing, giving her the time to pretend to be back at home again.

In reality, she was maybe falling for only five-seconds before she finally made contact to the water. 

When Angel's back hit its surface, it was like breaking through a thick wall of wood, for she thought she heard the water crack, but the instant it happened, her mind shut down. She may have escaped a gasp, but then her world turned black upon impact. Her body broke into the water and continued to drop a few feet down, its ice cold arms wrapping around her too tightly to breathe. And then it stopped. Angel was no longer going down, but floating, her closed eyes up at the surface where light faintly lit her. 

The water was dark, though clear, and with a blue tint. A few bubbles escaped from her nose and lips, but she made no muscle movements. Only gravity gently pulled her down, arms and legs floating up a little, her long ponytail sprawled out to hide portions of her cheeks and eyes. If it was stormy above, beneath the surface seemed peaceful. Only the clicking sounds of the killer whales echoed through the water as they tried to navigate through its darkness. They were close to her,  the large group of them squealing off somewhere. Some had swarm right pass her, their tails barely brushed against her hair before disappearing. Their vocals added whistles into the water, like a beautiful high pitched melody of a chorus. From their point, Angel's body looked like a tiny figure, barely noticeable as it just floated like frozen in time. 

And then, from the group of whales, emerged a creature that displayed a long and shimmering dark blue tail. He swam out of the herd and flipped his silky fins to get him to reach her as fast as he could, with his arms behind him to give him little resistance against the water.  

From behind, an arm looped from under Angel's arm and held her securely around her chest, and then she was pulled up towards the surface with her head bobbed down. The creature beat his tail fast, to help head straight up. When his lips opened, a whistle escaped from them, and it traveled through the water smoothly. In return, some of the orcas responded with whistles and clicks. One of them drifted away from the group and headed towards him, a large creature almost majestic in size in comparison to the creature holding Angel. The savior looked up to the surface, his white throat elongated and beautiful as his whale circled around him, almost playfully.

His head broke the surface. 

He tried to keep Angel's face afloat as much as possible though she didn't give any sign that she was conscious. This worried the creature as he spotted the killer whale's black dorsal fin slowly rising from the water. Quickly, he grabbed it with his free arm while the other securely fastened around Angel's body, limp and heavy. He made clicking noises through his teeth, and the whale pulled him along, taking him east. 

The killer whale was incredibly fast as it sped with the waves, its fin the thing cutting through water and leaving behind a trail of foam. The savior gripped it as hard as he could, constantly looking down at Angel's fallen body against him. 

Her skin grew pale, body ice cold. He held her tightly and blew hot air into her face and neck to keep her warm, though it may not have helped. More lightning spat out of the sky, making Angel's face appear bright for a split second, and then it darkened again. 

The view of the island was already in plain sight as mist fell over it like a grey veil. The eastern shores of Hope Island, slowly developed into view, a large island with habitat just below of God's pocket where the whale brought him. Though it wouldn't progress any further once the water began to thin out. It stopped, leaving the savior to continue the rest on his own. He rubbed at its fin with thanks, and then he let go. The whale turned around, its large body creating waves as its tail flipped up. And then it dived down into the darkness, to catch up with its group. The savior watched it leave safely back to the ocean, and then he floated on his back, holding Angel over him as he kicked his fins to bring them ashore. He began to feel for the sand bed, but he kept on going till he was carried the rest of the way with the crashing waves. They shoved him hard, forcing him to roll onto the wet sand, Angel collapsing beside him. 

He took a moment to catch a few deep breaths, a bit exhausted from his efforts, but then he got on his elbows and checked to make sure her head faced the sky. 

Angel laid on her back, her arms and legs spread out wide as her savior pressed his ear against her chest where her wet jacket clung to his cheek. He could hear the faint sound of her heart beating, though it was slow. He then leaned his face in over hers, just inches away to feel for her breathing. There was no air escaping her lips nor nostrils. This made him gasped, startled at her condition as he clasped his hands over her cheeks to tilt her head up so that her airway was open fully. He looked at her lips, his hands trembling. Small sheets of water licked his tail when the waves crashed, the thunder rumbling far behind.  

He inched his mouth close to hers, though there was hesitation. Whether he stopped because sharing his breath with a human was considered taboo, or because he felt a whiff of air escape her, wasn't known. But he reeled back when he saw her eyes flutter open a little. He sat on his hands as they dug deep into the sand, and watched as Angel coughed and spat out some sea water. 

2

I'm so cold, Angel thought. She never felt so heavy in all her life. She felt like every inch of her insides was filled with cement. Every breath was tiny and exhausting. But her back, oh her back, burned and ached like it was stabbed by tiny little knives. Water tapped on her face, forcing her eyes to open enough to see a foggy face looming over her. She could barely see, for the lines blurred. It looked like a big white blob with faint yellow atop of it. Two light blue dots stared down at her, but she didn't know what it was. She closed her eyes again and turned her head to cough up some of the sea water that got into her lungs. Even the simple act of coughing was tremendous work for her. 

She batted her eyelashes over and over again to clear her vision, and then slowly tried to sit up. As she did, her body shivered from the cold, her body drenched. 

Whoever she was starring up at, she saw the person no longer.

Angel sat up, her legs dead to her, and she looked out at sea that began at her feet. There, far in the water, she saw a glimmer of a dark blue tail, its skin papery thin looking, but then it disappeared into the water. She took in a few steady breaths, brushing away her wet hair as she tried to understand what had just happened. 

"Hey! Are you okay?!" there was a voice in the distance. At first, her hearing was weak, for the voice sounded muffled and low. But then she turned her head to it, and saw a dark skin man approaching from a small one story house a few yards away.   Everything felt to be in a fog. Even the man who was running towards her, appeared to be in slow motion, his outline fuzzy. She looked back to the ocean, feeling the rain drops tickle her frozen cheeks, and saw the water fizzed out. Her vision became cloudy on the edges, till she pulled her face up to the sky to suck in a shaky breath, and then fell back into the sand. 

3 

St. Paul's Hospital,  Downtown Vancouver B.C 

There was beeping coming from the IV machine, and it woke Angel up. She groaned in her hospital bed and rolled on her side, wishing to be back in her house instead of being cooped in the hospital. It has only been a day since she was found unconscious along the shores of Hope Island. She didn't know how she got there, but she eventually remembered what happened. 

Sleep has been her enemy so far on this short journey, for every time she shut her eyelids, she could see lightning and an exploding helicopter. Angel feared she wouldn't be able to fly in a helicopter again, even under blue sky. 

Flashes of the event terrorized her mind. The chopper bled in her eyes, and then the thing twirling in the air out of control. She pressed her hands against her eyes to erase the images but they were glued there. There was Mike, trying to steady the controls, but he was tossed back and forth all up in the front, his head hitting the glass or the console till blood was everywhere. We went down with the chopper.

Angel gasped and sat up in bed in a hurry. She was panting, her body shaking in a cold sweat. Her head was hurting, her back was aching. Everything hurt. 

She wanted to know what day it was and if any of the wreckage was collected, but when she tried to get up, she was pulled back down by tubes attached to her arms and a nasal cannula strapped to her nose. She gasped again, feeling the pinch of the needles in her veins from the IVs, and growled under her breath. 

The beeping on the IV machine grew louder till a nurse in blue scrubs knocked on the door. When she came in, she shook her head at Angel and urged her to lie back down.

"The doctor has ordered you on bed rest," the nurse said in a quiet voice as her hands fiddled with the IV machine. 

Angel settled herself back under the cheap blankets with a scoff. The nurse said she would return with meds, though Angel wasn't quite looking forward to being forced to sleep again by the strong doses of pain killers. 

"I don't need oxycodone, I need to get home," she demanded, but the nurse left without a word, leaving her frustrated. As soon as she scurried away, a man almost pumped into her as he was walking in. 

"Whoa, being bossy already?" he had a light British accent when he spoke, and he walked into Angel's hospital room with a bit of a smile on his face. 

"Harry," Angel whispered, her hand reaching up for him to take. 

Harry Whiteheart's large hands easily swallowed hers up, his touch warm though his fingers rough. 

Angel's eyes immediately began to water when she looked up at him. 

"Mike...." she gasped, tasting the saltiness of her tears. "I'm so sorry."

Harry sat on the edge of her bed and hushed her gently. 

"It's not your fault," he began. "The storm came much earlier than it was predicted. You guys wouldn't know till you flew out there."

Angel sniffed up her tears and asked, "Is he.....?" she didn't want to say it, that word that was much too heavy for her tongue to settle. She just swallowed, and Harry held her hand tighter. Just like Angel, he was also a marine biologist, and also her partner, and her closest friend for the past four years since they began their research. They mainly focused on migrations of many fish, but Angel's side interest fell to killer whales. Little was still known about them, like much of their behaviors, where they settled for long periods of time, and their exact routes.   Such intelligent and beautiful beasts of the sea, she thought of them for a moment before Harry's voice pulled her back.

"There's no sign of the helicopter, or Mike," his voice became grim. 

"Oh God," she whimpered, and then she sat up so that she could sought refuge in his arms. He hugged her tight and let her sob on his expensive sweatshirt. 

They were like that for a while, till her sobs grew quiet and she only sniffed loudly to reel the snot and tears back in. 

"It's a miracle you survived," Harry whispered, his eyes closed. He leaned his cheek into Angel's hair, still smelling of the sea. 

Angel's mind flashed images she couldn't define. She saw a blue tail, like a large fish. Light blue eyes that glowed. A white blur.... 

"I think....someone saved me. Or something. I don't remember," she said. 

This made Harry chuckle lightly, she could feel his chest rattle against her from it. 

"I think you've been drinking too much sea water, Angie," he joked. She tried to take it lightly, but she pushed herself away slowly. 

"I'm serious! Someone saved me. How else could I have been still alive without falling into hypothermia or drowning or be killer whale food?"

Harry let out a sigh through his small smile, and just looked at her. 

"That's a good question. Reports said the crash happened just a mile from Hope Island. Funny place to be ended up huh? Maybe someone up in heaven is watching over you."

She leaned back into her bed, the headboard raised so that she could slightly sit up, and just starred up at the ceiling. 

"Or down in the ocean," she muttered. 

Harry was at a lost for words. He rubbed his fingers through his brown locks of hair and then just sank his face into his hands. 

"I haven't heard the details yet but we are going to prepare a service for Mike next week. It depends on all of our schedules, and when you can leave this place," he said, and rested his narrow chin over his clasped hands. Angel stared at him for a moment, as though she was still working her brain to click in all the gears she was used to operating, but some of them were rigid and still malfunctioning. Her frontal lobe of her skull began to throb. 

"What are my injuries?" she asked, dreading to know. 

Harry dropped his eyes to the floor and licked his lips twice, a sign that he was nervous. 

"Ah, well let's see.... You must have fallen quite a ways, because your kidneys have been damaged upon impact with the water. So you are under observation for kidney function, and well, a few fractures along your cervical spine, though luckily no nerve damage. You are a lucky woman, Angie." 

That explained why it hurt so much to turn her head from side to side. There was a thick brace around her neck to keep it align; she didn't notice it till now.

There was a long silence between them. Much was to be discussed about the killer whales, Angel knew, but she was worried it wasn't the time to matter. She decided to carefully only mention of her sightings, like dipping her foot into a cold pool before jumping in.

"I saw them. There was a large herd exactly where I predicted they would be," she whispered. 

"I'm sure that's some good news to give to Tom. That and you being alive," Harry replied.  Tom was their manager running the marine labs just seven miles south, at the University of British Columbia. 

When no more was said for a while, either from Angel being too weak or just too solemn from Mike's death, Harry rose from the bed. 

"I better be off then. I will go and tell Tom the news that you are going to be fine. He's been so worried about you ya know. You are his favorite after all," he said. 

Angel rolled her eyes up to the ceiling and smirked. 

"I am not! You always say that!" she grinned. 

"Ah, but it's true!" he chuckled back. He leaned in and they embraced once more.

"I'm so glad you are all right," he said, and he truly meant it. He kissed her forehead and told her good bye. 

"I will be back later with the rest of the gang. They all want to see you!" he said as he left the room. But before he could disappear behind the door, Angel called out his name. 

"Harry?"

He stopped, his fingers curled over the door's side as he was about to pull it shut, but he froze it there and he poked his head through. 

"Yes?"

Angel took in a deep breath and settled her hands on her lap. 

"Do you believe in mermaids?"

This caught Harry off guard. He stumbled into the room a little and a looney grin flopped on his stubbed face. 

"Do I believe in what?" his accent thickened, unguarded. 

Angel cleared her throat, already feeling ridiculous for asking such a silly question. 

"Mermaids. Do you believe in mermaids?" she repeated. 

Harry shook his head. 

"No."

"How come?"

He scoffed and shrugged his broad shoulders. 

"I don't bloody know, um... I'm always skeptical at how they would reproduce if they did exist. I mean, they have tails and no genitalia or any mechanisms to provide seed and egg. Anything that is alive is able to reproduce, or at least make copies of themselves. They are folklore, Angie, just something to motivate the old sailors to venture out into sea that no one dared cross in the old times. Just silly nonsense."

Angel pressed her lips together and nodded. It was a typical answer from someone with a bachelor's in biology and a masters in Marine Biology. 

"Only 2% of the ocean has been fully explored. We can't know that they don't exist," she argued. 

Harry didn't seem in the mood to go about throwing his point across an argument that was so broad and continuously in discussion among society. Debating whether merpeople were real was like asking if aliens existed. There were only conspiracies. 

"Don't tell me you think a mermaid rescued you?" Harry tried not to laugh, but his cheeks puffed some as he held it down with a few coughs and funny sounds from his lips. 

"It could have happened," she said. 

Harry waved her off and walked back to the door. 

"They don't exist. A scientist like you should already know that," were his last words before he closed the door quietly behind him. 

A day earlier, Angel would have thought the same thing. As much as she loved fantasy, and the marine life, she never truly thought about merpeople hiding somewhere in the four oceans. 

That was until now.

4

It took a week for Angel to be discharged. Harry insisted he would take her home but she declined his help. She just wanted to walk through the high-town of Vancouver on her own, towards the train station to take her home where she was worried about her fish in their tanks. When she walked out of the brick structure of the hospital, she was huddled in one of her jackets that one of her other lab friends brought her, a thick beige raincoat, suitable for the morning weather of icy air with half rain half sleet. 

Despite the ugly weather, Angel took a whiff of the fresh air and took in her surroundings. There was the familiar blue mountain range of Mt. Seymour, sitting strongly north of the city with tall peaks seen behind the tall buildings that gave the illusion they were only a few minutes away. 

It was around noon, the lunch rush causing all sorts of business through the city. Angel opened up her black umbrella, and instead of heading east towards the station, she walked north through the city blocks along Thurlow street. She passed chapels, some of the high end shopping centers, many trendy cafes and tall business buildings before she made it to the last street known as Canada Place Street. 

Passing the thin crowd of people, she walked up to the water front, just over the railing, as Canada Place sat like a cruise ship to one side, and Vancouver's Convention center off to the other. 

Angel sighed, her free hand circled around the railing while the other held her umbrella. She looked out at what is known as Vancouver Bay, it's dark waters just like that of a week ago. Some small boats cruised on by, the call of gulls somewhere in the distance. The water looked deep, and a little unwelcoming as she looked down at it, her head looking over the edge. 

She didn't know why she was there, at least she didn't want to admit it to herself why. But it nagged at her somewhere in her mind, something that made her want to reach out into the waters to find the answers of who rescued her. 

Maybe they were just dreams when she fell into unconsciousness after the accident, but Angel remembered the hands that were on her face. Cold and clammy hands gripped her cheeks, strong and yet gentle. The face of her savior was still fuzzy to her, only the eyes were of clue, though how to even begin to prove that she wasn't going mad was a huge dilemma. 

She sighed again, looking into the water and wishing her mermaid would just poke its head out then and there. Maybe she was just secretly hoping the mermaid was in those waters, maybe it had followed her. 

*I'm so stupid*, she thought. *Why would a mermaid risk going into the bay Or swim away from the ocean for that matter? Not even most fish brave the challenge.*

And yet, she still wished it was there, her answer somewhere in that water. She must have stood there for an hour, thinking of how to proceed with her thoughts of seeing this mermaid again. 

"I know you're somewhere out there," she mumbled to herself. Maybe the frigid air will carry her words far away to deliver to her mysterious friend. 

*i need to go back to the ocean, near that reserved area once more.* She knew she had to go back, but if her manager allowed it, was the huge question. There was only one way to find out.

5

"No no no! Absolutely not! Are you crazy! You just got back!" Dr. Leonard exclaimed. He was so surprised by Angel's request, that his huge and jerky hand gestures made his glasses appear angled across his round face. 

Angel wore her lab coat casually over her skinny jeans and thin long sleeve green tee. She was messing with her new laptop, using the maps program to figure out exactly where she thought she saw the killer whale group. 

"But I failed, Tom. I didn't get the footage you wanted. I know you've been needing the proof of the orcas' route by the Hakai areas for months now. Well I had the shots but-"

"But then you were almost killed when your helicopter went down. Mike lost his life and you almost lost yours. Now you are telling me you want to go back there?!"

Angel gave him her full attention and stiffed up a bit. She tapped one end of her sneakers on the tile floor nervously. 

"Yes.."

"Even by helicopter?"

She hesitated. 

This caught a glint in Tom's brown eyes. 

"Ah, and you know it's more convenient to travel that area by chopper. Not too many boats have access to the waters. And don't get me started on airports. Those people prefer to be stranded on an island with only a heliport and a couple of row boats. The point is, it's too soon, Angel. We need you in the lab, to help out with our salmon study." He finally fixed his glasses, and leaned his hand over the work bench Angel was standing over. 

She returned to her laptop and zoomed in on the coordinates she remembered in her head. Mike's ghost voice rang, *51.7 and -128.5*.

"I remember the coordinates .......," she froze a moment before saying his name, "Mike shouted out when he made the distress call. Latitude 51.7 and longitude -128.5. This is where the whales were spotted."

That time, Tom was impressed. He even whistled as the map zoomed in near the Hakai reserved island, just a few miles out maybe. 

"It's a miracle you remembered," he remarked. 

"I remember numbers easily," she muttered. It was true. Give Angel a phone number or a set of numbers no longer than ten digits, it will be burned into her memory for a very long time. 

She turned to him, waiting for his real decision. Angel knew how he worked, she's been working under him for four years. Tom was an older gentleman, an American from Olympia, Washington. His hair was turning grey as it thinned at the top, but he was in shape from all the cycling he does to get anywhere. Even at forty-seven, he refused to buy a car, just not a mandatory purchase. 

Tom eyed at Angel carefully, his hand resting on his chin. 

"I know how much you want to study them, but, it's been eight days. That group may have traveled close to a thousand miles south by now. They could be near Asia by now, or maybe south along California. What if you don't find anything?"

The questioned weighed heavily on Angel's shoulders so much, they sagged a little. She closed her eyes, the laptop's screen vanished. When she tried to remember the long blue tail that escaped into the sea, those hands that touched her face, her heart fluttered wildly. What if this was going to be some wild goose chase? What if it was all just a dream? She pressed one hand over her chest, as though to steady her heart, but she could only feel it pound gently against her fingers lively.

"What if I do?" she whispered, her thoughts back to the lab. 

This made Tom bite his lower lip, at a lost for words. He could feel that he was losing this battle. He may have felt a little sorry for her, or maybe he just had a soft place in his heart for the young woman he looked to as his daughter. Somewhere in the real world, his real daughter was out there doing odd jobs, with no real direction nor any interests in the sciences. Angel was the only one he could direct, maybe even possibly protect when the time comes. 

He let out a sigh of defeat as he crossed his long arms. 

"Harry isn't going to like this," he added, in hopes to pressure Angel to keep her in Vancouver, but she knew how to dodge it. 

"I will talk to him," she said. 

Now Tom rubbed the back of his neck, his white button-down shirt no longer crisp and neat. 

"I will have to call Cindy to check the finances in our department. There may not be enough stretch to get you back over there, especially after the lost goods from the accident, including covering Mike's service....."

Angel had forgotten about the service. She looked down at her recently clean red converse shoes and sucked in a deep breath. 

"I don't think I should be there," her voice was quiet so no one could hear her. 

"The hell you should be there," he said sharply, his finger jabbing the air.

"His family will be there. I don't want to see what he left behind," and then she dreadfully added, "maybe it should have been me. I have no one. No husband, no kids, no parents to take in the sorrows of my death." Hey eyes stung a little, fingers tapping at the keyboard buttons almost obnoxiously, just anything to keep her hands busy. 

"Don't say that. Don't you ever f*****g say that," Tom growled. He took a firm grip on one of Angel's small shoulders and told her to look up at him. 

"I would miss you. Harry would. The whole staff would," his voice dropped a little. This made her smile. "Thank you," was all she felt she could utter.

"I will tell you what," Tom began, letting go of her so that he could put his hand back to his chin. "If you go to the service tomorrow, then I will do my best to arrange for you to depart for Hope Island the following day."

This made Angel's eyes grow large, like two honeycombs. 

"Deal," she said through her wide smile, flashing her white and yet imperfect aligned teeth. 

"But you have to take Lisa with you," he slipped in. 

"What? No, not Lisa!" she exclaimed, but Tom already turned away and headed back to his office. 

"She's your student! Get her out there in the real water for christ's sake," he yelled with a wave. Angel was unsure if he was being harsh or sarcastic as she watched him disappear into a corner. 

"Damn...." she mumbled. 

6

The service was held in one of the large open rooms at the university the following day. Angel purposely showed up late, more of a slip away from her lab work than anything else. She was still in her lab coat when she slowly approached the double doors to the room, and slowed her steps so that she could carefully peer her head in. Many people gathered around many small tables of white cloth, food and drink provided on them for anyone. A couple of people were in groups, chatting and murmuring quietly as though afraid to wake the dead, all their faces long and pale. 

Angel let herself in quietly, trying not to cause any attention, but her white coat suck her out easily to everyone else wearing black. Some cold eyes stared at her, giving her shivers up her spine like she had just fell into the cold ocean again.

*I need a drink.*

She walked to the table with a row of tall classes of red wine and snatched one. 

After a few gulps of the too dry red, Harry's voice surprised her from behind. 

"Hey, you showed up," he tried to sound jolly but she could tell it was forced. 

He didn't want to be here either, though he was a good friend of Mike's. 

Angel turned to witness Harry trying to pull off black slacks and a black button downed shirt, ironed and clean with a silver tie. He looked odd in it, older, despite his handsome features. 

"You look like hell," she muttered with a grin. She too another sip of wine.

Harry wasn't offended, just glad someone was being honest around here. 

"I could say the same about you. Geez, eat more. Has the hospital been feeding you at all? Here." He grabbed a handful of small cucumber sandwiches and put them on a plate, and then handed it to Angel with a gentle manner. Angel took the plate with a small thanks and began to nibble on a sandwich. 

"I like your outfit. Perfectly suitable for this kind of thing," he joked, and looked at her up and down. 

Angel blushed and dropped her face a little in case anyone was starring. 

"I'm just taking a break from work," she muttered. 

"Tom said we didn't have to come in today because of the service," Harry confirmed, but he knew those were a waste of words because Angel's attention fell elsewhere. She turned her eyes to a tall and beautiful woman heading towards her, and her eyebrows arched up in distress. 

"You have a lot of nerve for being here without proper wear. Have you no respect for my husband?" the woman's voice was of ice. Her lips were deep red of lipstick, a tight long sleeve black dress hugged her elegant curves, and her blond hair was up in a bun. 

Angel dropped her gaze, a look of shame appeared on her softer features. 

"Emily, be grateful she showed up. It's hard for her to be here," Harry dived in to save the day and gave his hand out for the woman to shake, but she just stared at him, the effect making him back off. And then back at Angel to give her more put downs. 

"It's your fault you know. If you had listened to the weather's updates, or told Michael to turn around sooner, he would still be here."

"It's not my fault. We had no idea the storm was to reach that area so soon," Angel argued quietly. The last thing she wanted was to make a scene. Though it only raised the wife's voice with a, "All you seemed to care about are your stupid whales. Now my son is without a father, and I a widow! I don't know how you survived but-!"

"Emily! Angel was hospitalized just days ago from the accident-" Harry tried to readjust the wife's perspective, but she interrupted him just as he did to her.

"But she survived!"

Angel turned away, her back to the woman and said, "I'm sorry for what happened. I truly am. Please let me know what I can do." 

Behind her, the woman's voice said, "By letting me press charges to you and your firm for the death of Michael over such rubbish study. You should have went into the medical profession, studying more important matters, like cancer and heart disease-" Angel blocked out the rest of the cruel words, for she ran back to the doors from where she entered, and slipped out before witnessing the upcoming conversation pouring out of the people's lips after they witnessed the short drama. 

Angel jogged down the hallway, her feet clapping against the tile and eyes steaming up.

"Angel, wait!" it was Harry, running after her. She kept running, almost to the stairs, but he grabbed her wrist firmly, though not to jerk her back.

"Angel, hold on!" he said, his voice strained. 

"I shouldn't have come. I knew I would be blamed," Angel tried not to cry but she could already feel her eyes swell up, her throat thickening. 

"She just lost her husband. It's expected that she will get emotional and blame someone. Just let it slide," he said. That must have calmed her down, because she sucked air with trembling lips and turned around to look up at him. 

"I'm so glad you are my friend," she whispered. Harry's eyes half closed and he smiled down at her as his hand yearned to lace with her fingers. But instead, he dropped her wrist and dug his hands into his pockets. 

"Anytime," he said, his cheeks slowly reddened. 

After a few seconds of silence, Angel said, "I should go. The salmon can't sit too long in the warm tank."

Harry said something that made her stop after going down a few steps of the stairs. She turned around, her hair down and long much past her shoulders, and it hit her cheek gently. 

"What?" she questioned. 

"I said I'm coming with you. To Hope Island. That's where Tom is sending you, yes?"

Angel was at a loss for words, surprised by her close friend's sudden declaration. 

"Yes, tomorrow. But you don't care for killer whales," she reminded him. She was secretly disappointed in Harry's involvement. In the beginning, she thought she would be able to sought her ocean savior on her own, with the search of the orcas' routes as a perfect excuse to return. But with her graduate student, Lisa, already participating, adding another would further ruin the special affect of making this mission personal . 

"I care about you," he said so suddenly, and he looked serious at her. 

Angel almost choked. She tried to speak but her words caught in her throat, until she just swallowed them down and replaced them with something else. 

"Okay. We meet at the airport tomorrow at six am sharp. Oh, and Lisa is coming."

Harry tried not to feel glum after he just partially shared his feelings to her, just edging his foot to the line. But his smile faded and he nodded nonstop like trying to rattle his brain to work back the way it should, instead of making him spill out deep words at the wrong moments. 

"Fine. Fine," he only said, and Angel turned away to continue her descend down the stairs, leaving him standing alone and disappointed. 

7

Somewhere in the depths of the Pacific, near the coast of Hope Island, swam more of the orcas. The water was calm, the surface barely rolling along underneath the clear blue sky. Below the surface, the water was a complete abyss. No floor to be seen for half a mile, just an expansion of blue and grey all shimmered with streaks of sun light that broke through. The orcas whistled in fine high pitch sounds, adding to the tranquility the environment has brought. There were no threats, no predators. No one could go against such black and white beasts with fins. Only the occasional small solo fish or two swam quietly. 

And then he appeared. 

The merman swam gracefully through the water, like in a ballet dance, his tail long and moving in smooth motions. His arms were elongated behind him, stretched back as his chest pushed forward, his thick white blond hair pulled back in short waves as he swam forward. The merman's tail reflected the sun beams, sparkling like tiny beads of blue glass with each ray. His tail fin was wide and thick, shaped like the ocas'. Strapped over his one shoulder was a small net sack he carried, to hold his treasures and upcoming items he may stumble across. 

He dived down, deep into the darkness, but his eyes adjusted and lit up his world before him, glowing to his surroundings. 

The ocean floor was littered with human trash, like old sunken ships and forgotten nets. Like a large sleeping city, buried under water with not a soul to be seen, the merman flew into the ship graveyard. He came to a large war ship, maybe from world war II, broken in half possibly from the fall. His shadow was cast along its rusty iron frame, the round holes of what used to be windows now homes to crabs and sea urchins.

He should already be south with the other whales by now, heading back towards his familiar ground, but he delayed. Somehow, he felt like staying in the norther Pacific waters a little longer. Besides, there was so much litter to marvel at. He swam up towards  the bow of the ship, still intact. The ship looked that of a grey skull, still of structure, but its bone was cracked, with a few fractures and open cracks. 

The merman explored into it, his slim body able to squeeze into its halls covered with sand, collected sea dust and moss. He passed mirrors that were shattered, hats of officers still in one piece, left in the sand for crabs to hide in. 

It was when he swam into a room of what appeared to be a sleeping quarters, though the bunks were long destroyed, the wood dissolved and the sheets like wet paper, something caught the merman's eye. He almost missed it, but it glowed to his sight for a split second and then darkened again with the rest of the room. 

He carefully adjusted his eyes and hovered over much of the trash on the ground. An eel slithered out of a broken steel box, when he saw something shine from inside it. His mouth dropped, curiosity pulling him to reach for the broken lid. The sea water had turned its lock into rustic dust, leaving the box open and vulnerable to prying fingers. His, long and steady, pushed the lid aside and it floated gently down to the floor like a feather would on land. 

Inside it was something that made his eyes grow. It was a locket, made of solid gold, still attached to its gold chain that laid in a coil. The merman put it into his hand, about the size of a poker chip, and opened the latch. In it, he was able to trace the two small black and white pictures. One of them was of a military man in an officer uniform, his hat held politely in his hands, and he had a proper way smiling without showing his teeth. The other was of a beautiful woman with curly hair and a big smile, flashing her teeth. 

Whoever this belonged to, the merman had no reason to take it away. This was a treasure for someone else, someone not alive anymore. He closed the locket and put it back in the box where it belonged. Just as quickly as he came in, he left the room and swam out of the ship. 

It always happens. Whenever he would go exploring fallen ships and airplanes, there was always something that retained some sort of realization that people once dwelled in them. That they floated on water or flew in the air once, but unfortunate events pulled them into sea, taking lives with them. Not one structure held no items that people once clung to with deep meaning. Whenever the merman came upon such items, like that locket, or rings with engravings or bracelets with charms, he would examine them with caution, and then just put them back where he found them. And once he was reminded of the lives forever vanquished, he would leave the place, his heart racing like that of his tail, his thirst for fresh air from the surface. 

But when he slipped through a port hole and came about open water, he saw something coming from the darkness in the distance. He froze, floating there as he saw who it was. 

A mermaid, one with long hair the same color as his, slowly swam to him. Her tail, a dark green, was longer, the fin wider with tiny sparkling details in its blood vessels than that of her male counterpart. When he saw her, he didn't smile as she stopped a few inches of him, her hair floating up to his face. The mermaid was slim, her waist tiny from the constant swaying of her hips, and her breast perky with dark n*****s. She smiled at him, her hand extended out, but the merman shook his head at her. 

The mermaid pressed her pale lips hard together and sent thoughts his way. 

You need to come home, her voice purred in his mind. The merman shook his head again and waved his hand at her.

How did you find me? he thought. 

This displeased his female friend enough that she narrowed her glowing yellow eyes at him, her hands clenched into fists. 

The black and white beasts spoke of you joining them, but you stayed behind here. I came as soon as I could. Now come.

She grabbed for his hand but he pulled it away and swam backwards some. 

I don't want to go back, he sent her. 

She clenched her teeth. Why?! I came all this way for you! Her voice shrieked loudly in his skull and he dropped his head a little to rub at his temples. 

Please Trisella. Go back home where tis safe. I like exploring the unknown waters.he sent to her, maintaining his cool.

Your father grows ill thinking of you. You will have to take his place eventually, and make me-, her thoughts became interrupted when a large shadow fell upon them from above. Both beautiful creatures, looked up to the heavens, and saw a small black dot tread from the surface. 

This excited the merman, his heart was beating wildly. He was ready to swim up to it, but the mermaid grabbed hold of his wrists, where sharp fins began protruded from his arms. 

No! We have to stay away from the humans! she looked panicked, both her hands gripping to him. She longed for him, to have his touch, his hair mixed with hers and his mouth sharing his sacred breath into her lungs, but he pulled his arm free and swam straight up.

Go home! he spoke gently into her head, but she ended up following him. 

It didn't take long before they were just a few feet below the belly of the boat, no longer than a grey whale. It looked like a giant oval, leaving behind a trail of tiny bubbles. It moved slowly, like a sleepy giant, bobbing up and down gently to the small waves. 

The merman eyed curiously at it as he tried not to put his words into thoughts. 

It was hard for a mermaid to think in private, the one disadvantage to their telepathy. He blinked up at iron skin, and very carefully pushed himself up till his head barely broke the surface behind the ship. 

He heard Trisella's thoughts, telling him no, but he ignored her. Slowly, he poked his head out of the water. The world around him instantly changed. He breathed in fresh salty air into his large lungs, expanding once more after spending much time in the deep. The sky was still clear, though a hint of orange began to creep in from its edge. 

With his eyes poking out of the water, crashing against the foam from the boat, his tail pushed him to follow it. There were only a few humans on board he noticed, their attention not on the ocean but on their devices or books. All except one. 

He gasped. 

It's her. He then cursed to himself for thinking that, for he knew Trisella had heard it. 

Who? she asked him, hovering a few feet below him. The merman grunted, realizing he had to get a closer look. He kicked his fins to push him up and out of the water in a leap, and then dived back into it so that he could streamline next to the boat. 

He poked his head out again, closer, and saw the human girl. Her long hair flapped to the wind, her honey eyes out beyond the stretches of ocean as she rested her hands over the railing of the boat. 

He knew it was her, the same woman he had rescued some days ago. She had come back! He sank back into the water and practically danced his fin around, his arms out as he spun and looped in playful circles. He had forgotten all about Trisella, who remained close by, watching his boyish behavior with crossed arms. She glared at him and then up at the boat, too keeping some of her thoughts to herself. Though she did send him one that turned him still.

Whatever you are playing at, get it out of your system soon, and come home. Or else I will make sure to pursue you in some manner.

He looked down at her, his face suddenly serious and sent back, I won't come home. Inform my father that.

Out of anger, Trisella hissed in the water, bubbles escaping from her smaller lungs. She gave up, for now. She turned away, her hair flowing with her, and swam south with her chin up in the air with a haughty manner and eyes closed. She had hoped he would follow her, or send apologies, but there was nothing but silence. And when she stopped to turn her upper body to look at him once more, he didn't move. Her anger subsided a little, depression crept in. 

I know what's best for you. Everything I do, I do for you and for our people.

She then turned away and swam into the darkness. The merman caught her last fragments of thoughts before he could no longer see her. 

Remember that, Neso.

Hearing his name in his head, something that he hadn't heard for a very long time, devoured his thoughts. He felt its heavy burden weighing on him, sinking him a little back towards the darkness. But then he looked back up, to the light, and he swam away from his dark thoughts and headed back towards the boat. 

Author's Note

Please don't mind the grammar nor some of the ideas. This is a rough draft and still in the works here. Your input is greatly appreciated. It takes a little while for Neso to reappear, I noticed after reading this. Just give it time or input please.

Reviews

[Davidgeo]

I have this bizarre need to watch "The Hunt for the Red October" for some reason.

[Tombs & Books]

I've never seen it. Any good?

[Davidgeo]

Depends... are you a fan of late 1980's Sean Connery?