Ocean's Infiltrator Read online

  Ocean's Infiltrator

  DEMELZA CARLTON

  This book is dedicated to Michèle

  for giving me my first glimpse beneath the surface of a world I never knew existed.

  Copyright © 2013 Demelza Carlton

  Lost Plot Press

  Smashwords Edition

  All rights reserved.

  Contents

  1. Sirena

  2. Sirena

  3. Joe

  4. Sirena

  5. Joe

  6. Laila

  7. Joe

  8. Laila

  9. Joe

  10. Sirena

  11. Joe

  12. Laila

  13. Joe

  14. Laila

  15. Joe

  16. Laila

  17. Joe

  18. Sirena

  19. Joe

  20. Laila

  21. Joe

  22. Laila

  23. Joe

  24. Laila

  25. Joe

  26. Laila

  27. Joe

  28. Laila

  29. Joe

  30. Sirena

  31. Joe

  32. Laila

  33. Joe

  34. Sirena

  35. Joe

  36. Sirena

  37. Joe

  38. Laila

  39. Joe

  40. Laila

  41. Joe

  42. Laila

  43. Joe

  44. Darma

  45. Joe

  46. Laila

  47. Joe

  48. Laila

  49. Joe

  50. Laila

  51. Joe

  52. Laila

  53. Joe

  54. Laila

  55. Joe

  56. Laila

  57. Joe

  58. Laila

  59. Joe

  60. Laila

  61. Joe

  62. Laila

  63. Joe

  64. Laila

  65. Joe

  66. Laila

  67. Joe

  68. Laila

  69. Joe

  70. Laila

  71. Joe

  72. Laila

  73. Joe

  74. Laila

  75. Joe

  76. Apalala

  77. Joe

  78. Apalala

  79. Joe

  80. Darma

  81. Joe

  Bonus Sneak Peek

  About the Author

  1. Sirena

  Help the humans or let them die?

  This will not be the first time I choose to be an instrument of death.

  The acrid scent of guns and explosives, the staccato of weapon-fire and the screech of stressed steel as a projectile found its mark. Gun-smoke and steam from the ships' boiler-engines wreathed the scene like fog from colder climates. I heard Da-Xia's screams through the murk as she laboured to bring forth her child.

  I shooed the sharks toward the ships, away from my mother, my sister and their patient. I kept to the outer reefs with the other younger girls, fewer in number than they would be in the future. As the ships approached, the other girls fled, tails flicking and fading into deeper, darker water.

  I did not. My family stayed, so I remained. They did not fear the danger and I was no less brave than they. Someone had to see to the sharks.

  I watched a human dive from his vessel. I shaped a wave and sent it racing across the surface, pushing him back toward his ship to keep him away from my family. He was a German medical officer from the SS Emden, I learned later.

  "Mother, help me! I am hit!" I heard Healer Duyong scream.

  I saw Mother turn to help Duyong. Duty and love warred in her expression, but Mother chose duty, as always. She turned away and dragged the human down deep.

  I watched him die, the boom of guns barely background noise to the sound of my sister screaming then gurgling as she drowned in her own blood, riddled with holes torn by the weapons aboard the humans' ships.

  Blood blossomed from Mother's arm, but her call was as strong as the voice she gave to me. No shark approached her as she swam to my sister and her charge, only to find she was too late. Da-Xia's death was as quick as the shell that took her head. She never felt the shots that killed the child within her.

  To my shame, I raised my voice to sing to the ships over the fire-fight on the surface. My anger was so great that I would have killed every human aboard, shattering their skulls with my song, had I known how. All I could do was fill them with a desire to flee at all cost.

  I felt bitter satisfaction at the captain of the closer ship's response. He ran his vessel aground on the reef, the keel screeching and shattering as the waves ground it flat. Smoke rose from the deck of the Emden and I remember shaping the waves to skirt the vessel, letting the fire burn without cease.

  The second ship's captain found a different focus for his siren-induced recklessness. He'd spotted another ship and moved out of range of Mother to attack more humans instead. His Sydney fired on the Buresk. Those on board the Buresk scuttled their vessel, opening up the seacocks, before they took to the boats. Coal dust spread like a dark cloud of corruption beneath the surface as the Buresk descended to the sea floor.

  I turned my eyes from the carnage to assist my mother in healing my sister, but we were too late to do anything for Duyong. Once more, Mother dived into the depths, dragging two bleeding bodies with her. The other girls on shark patrol had long since headed home and I was alone. Heartsick, I headed for the beach.

  Lit by the fires aboard the vessel I'd wrecked, I shifted to human form and let tears flow as I sobbed on the sand. No eight-year-old child should witness the death of her own sister.

  When Mother returned to find me, her face was grave. "The Council will believe that the humans caused this disaster on their own and that you fled as the other younger girls did. No child in living memory could sink a ship with just her voice - and no lone adult could sink two. You are young to possess such power, yet it will grow greater still as you do. You are my heir now, child. You must do your duty young, for I am not."

  My mouth opened to sob her name, but I swallowed and stood to address her with the respect that was her due. "Yes, Elder Sephira. I will do as the Council commands me."

  She looked approvingly at the semi-sunken ship. "You must learn to lead, for you have the power within you to take my place in the Council. But you must learn to control it."

  My anger burned more fiercely than the ship. I wiped my tears away. "Will I get to kill more humans?" I tried to control my voice, but it wavered as I thought of my sister. I'd looked up to Duyong so much and her death tore holes in my heart as if the shells had shredded my body and not hers.

  Mother smiled. "First, you must learn to enslave one, so that he cannot resist you. Duty first, then pleasure."

  2. Sirena

  Mother was mistaken, I know now. There is always duty, but occasionally pleasure is a part of it.

  Like now.

  I tried to focus purely on the speed, the feeling of air rushing past me as the metal beast between my legs roared his defiance at the road. There were few others around at this early hour and I pushed him harder than I should have.

  It was not enough. I felt tears on my face once more at my memories, for my pain dwelt deep. I had not thought of Duyong or Mother for many years, though Mother had survived her oldest child and trained one of mine to take Duyong's place as Healer.

  No longer a scared child, as Elder Sirena I had claimed my place on the Council, many years ago now, and I suspected none were as skilled in seduction or song as I. Not a single one of my students showed the promise I had – but perhaps they lacked the inspiration. A man who would love a dragon, indeed.

 
I felt the smile lift my lips as I turned my thoughts to the Council as it was under my mother's guidance and that of her mother before her. She had visited the Atlantic with Grandmother as ambassador in the past. For a moment, I wished I could follow my mother and grandmother to see the only city of our kind. Mother…

  Movement caught my eye on the street ahead and I reluctantly slowed. Without my sharp eyes, someone might have been hurt. Like my second daughter's father, killed on a wet road whilst riding his old Triumph, with his wife riding pillion behind him. What a waste. It takes a special kind of man to love a dragon.

  I sat patiently waiting for the mother duck to cross the road with her ducklings, from the river to the pond in the park on the other side. She looked at me for a moment and I gave her a nod of acknowledgement.

  She knows what I am. A water dragon on a hog in the pre-dawn light, remembering my own chicks at home. I sighed, missing all three of them, though none were as fluffy and innocent as the ducklings before me.

  No, on land I am Vanessa, just another human. I must remember that as the ocean's infiltrator, I am not a dragon or a fish or any other creature – I must think like a human.

  Beneath my riding leathers, I concentrated on keeping my skin the same colour as any other human woman. Oops, I forgot underwear again. I must remember it next time. It causes so much trouble sometimes when I forget…For a moment, I thought of a time when I had not known about underwear to don beneath my leather clothing. My dragon skin, he'd called it, as he unbuttoned my jacket and slid it off my shoulders, to reveal the pale human skin he'd loved…

  My bike snarled beneath me, a sweet sound that I'd missed, so I guided him home.

  I reluctantly covered Harley up with his dust sheet in the garage, my riding helmet tucked into the lockbox at the back. I'd considered selling him, as he wouldn't fit with the image I needed to provide in the near future, but sentimentality won out. He reminded me of a certain Scottish engineer who'd had a liking for leather. The man was long dead now, though his legacy lived on. It seemed my life was full of such memories: the highlights that I would never forget amid the farewells that were left unsaid.

  I turned out the light in the garage and trudged to the basement, my fair hair fluttering like frayed rope in the light breeze off the river. Stiff locks clicked as I turned keys, stepping into the secure storage room protecting my possessions from prying eyes. The space was filled with furniture – I would need to shift it to the house before I left tomorrow evening. For now, I had a moment to indulge myself.

  I knew the bookcases by sight and touch, though it was too dark to discern the words. The books I looked for were as familiar to my fingers as my own skin, for I had caressed the covers many times. They held the history of me and mine. Beneath the books…ah.

  I dropped to my knees, opening the drawer at the base of the bookcase to pull out the rolled pages my mother had drawn at the end of her life, the colours still bright.

  Crossing the room to the light switch, I reflected that I would need more light to see this in the detail I wanted. The light flared briefly, before emitting a sound like an egg cracked on the side of a glass bowl and returning me to darkness.

  "Useless human technology," I said aloud as I started up the stairs to where the sunlight streamed in, sitting on the steps with my pages. I made a mental note to have more than one light installed in the basement. Perhaps I would have those little LED down-lights that sparkled so in the lighting shops on Leach Highway.

  I unrolled the crackling paper against the bare, white wall beside me, thinking of the envoys I must send on my return.

  The first was a map, originally drawn by humans, but marked by Sephira's hand in ink. The city's location, the location of other points she knew and visited, each represented by unlabelled ink dots in the flat blue of the Atlantic Ocean. My chosen envoys faced a long swim.

  The second was her drawing of what the city of Atlantis used to look like, when it was on the surface. When our kind were known to humans.

  My people taught the Greeks to build as they had, as well as how to rule with a whole people. They had corrupted our governing system as only humans can, but the buildings had not been as poorly constructed as their democracy. Our city had been beautiful, built over and around water, a coral atoll that had sprouted pastel marble which reflected sun and water to perfection. I touched the picture, with its vivid colours. Mother had even drawn in the light in the sky, the glow of the volcano that sent a tsunami over my people's home when only we had survived. What would it have felt like to swim in tsunami waves? The power of it aroused me more than was wise, alone as I was. I took a deep breath to steady myself.

  I shifted the coloured page and set it beside the black and white sketch beneath it. Ah, the contrast between the city my people built and the ruin it had become, before I drew my first breath! I toyed with the thought of going in the envoy's stead, but my duty lay here, in my human house in a human city. As I had discussed with Darma, our envoys should be led by Cantrella, for she shared the philosophy of our Atlantic sisters far more than our own.

  I drank in the colours, wondering whether Cantrella would be willing to come on land and draw what she had seen for me. I doubted it. Perhaps I should purchase one of the underwater cameras the humans had and ask her to take that instead? I could put digital photographs on my laptop computer, which I would need to replace with the latest model once more.

  I lifted my hands, letting the papers crackle and roll up. Practical matters drew my attention more than my memories of the past. I had important decisions to make.

  To help the humans or stand by and let them die?

  3. Joe

  "Whoever wired up these places either had a death-wish or he was fucking high at the time," I muttered as I found yet another nest of tangled wires under the tin roof. They'd pretty much corroded together. Any insulation on them had disintegrated about the time I was born, I decided. I ripped the mess out and dropped it on the concrete below.

  No one in their right mind would have volunteered for this, but I figured I was probably a bit mad in my reasons for it, too.

  Skipper and I had come to a business arrangement. We were going to be partners in a sort of holiday resort during the warmer months at the Abrolhos, to run in between fishing. He'd been sweet-talking all his fishing mates who didn't fish any more to hand over their asbestos shacks to him, so they didn't have to pay a shitload of money to pull them down. I'd been doing a bit of persuasion of my own – calling in every tradie I knew who'd do cash jobs and owed me a favour. When they hesitated, I promised I'd take them fishing when the job was done. Worked like a charm.

  Somehow, we'd ended up with about a dozen falling-down fishing shacks on Rat Island and now I was holding up my end of the deal, arranging to get guys out to do the work on them, so the shitholes could become "deluxe holiday villas" or something like that. I didn't know – Skipper's daughter, the travel agent, was writing the press for it.

  Now, if I could just get power restored to these stupid sheds we could get the asbestos guys in on their next week off to do some serious renovations. I had the replacement sheeting waiting in a sea container at the harbour, ready to winch aboard the Dolphin for the return trip after the first load of asbestos landed in Geraldton for safe disposal. The sooner the asbestos was gone, the better.

  I yanked on another stubborn strand of wire and it came slithering across the roof, guarded by a huge spider. I thought the orb spiders were big the first year I was out here, but she was almost as big as my hand. I knew from experience that she wasn't dangerous. I liked the way she and her mates kept the flies and mosquitoes down, so I brushed her off the corroded wiring and dropped it over the eaves.

  I figured I'd get this place done before dark and then I'd be finished, a day earlier than expected. Maybe I could spend tomorrow fishing and take some nice fillets home with me. I knew the good fishing spots around Rat now, because I had to know where to take the guys on their fishing trips. I knew
the spots that were pretty and not good for fishing, too, though, so we could keep the tourists occupied in trying. Couldn't have them catching their bag limit too quickly – they'd get bored and complain.

  I climbed down off the roof and hooked up the outdoor power point on the corner of the house, on one of the frame beams. I plugged in my light and switched the power point on. Brilliant, I thought as the globe gave a blinding flash of white before I turned it off again.

  I packed everything back in my toolbag and started collecting up the mess of corroded wiring. I dropped the whole lot on my veranda and went into my shack for a beer, a bite to eat and some sleep. I'd need to be up early for the best fish.

  4. Sirena

  I dusted my hands off. I'd finished pushing all the furniture into place. I clicked a pen, writing a list of what I still needed to purchase and arrange for a life on land.

  A new vehicle

  Clothing and amusements for a child

  A new computer

  Waterproof camera

  Alcohol

  I looked down at my list and added another item:

  Lightbulbs

  Perishable food would wait until my return, for the journey to my home and then back to my land house was not a short one.

  I dug out sufficient cash from storage and thought of taking Harley for one more ride before I slid beneath the sea surface in the dark of night.

  The engine's vibrations between my leather-clad thighs were irresistible. How can any man compare to the power of this? I thought as I roared to the car dealership to purchase something ladylike, shiny and blue.

  When the day ended, my new little Mazda sat in the garage, her engine still warm. My sweet Harley was hidden behind the Holden, in the deep darkness at the top of the garage. I'd given him a little service before I'd covered him, lovingly cranking the spanner to make sure he was as tight as I wanted him to be. I felt a wrench that I could not ride him in my role as a responsible, human, suburban, single mother.

  I'd already replaced the Edison light globe in the basement, watching it glow in satisfaction before I switched it off. I would call an electrician to add more lighting on my return.