Facsimile (14 page)

Dace’s hand slaps down over mine. “Hang on. You said the only swimming you’ve ever done was in a simulation.”

“True.” It’s strange to be immersed in water. I’ve taken showers all my life—there’s no such thing as a bathtub, much less a pool, on Eco. I kick my feet underwater and marvel at the lack of resistance. “I was pretty good, though.”

“In a holo-game.” Dace pries one set of my fingers off the ledge. “Hold onto my hand, close your eyes, and keep kicking. Just like you did in the holo. Yeah, treading water, there you go. Now, drop your other hand and move it through the water, like you’re making a small circle.”

Eyes closed, I grip his fingers like a vise as he pulls me around until my back is brushing the rocks. The water’s just warm enough to be comfortable. It’s smooth as silk gliding over my skin. I slow my feet until I’m kicking rhythmically rather than thrashing.

“Super.” Dace wiggles his fingers to loosen my hold on his hand.

The water feels good. Right. I’m weightless as a spacer in zero-grav. I’m floating in the clear sky. I’m home.

My eyes fly open when Dace slides his hand away.

“Circles with the free hand too,” he says. “Look at you—doing great!”

I bob in the water, held up by its buoyancy and the slow movements of my hands and feet. Above my head the silver flakes in the dark rock twinkle like stars.

“You’re a natural!” Dace swims in a circle around me. “It’s like you were born to it.” He pauses, treading water in front of me. His eyes narrow. “Like it’s in your bones.”

“Don’t go all scientific on me.” I sweep my arms in wider circles, imitating the movements I learned in the holo-game. I recall a frog-like motion that could replace the straight kicks of my feet. Knees up and out and glide.

“Damn.” Dace swims up beside me. “Never saw anyone learn that fast.”

I flip my braid over my shoulder, showering Dace with a spray of droplets. “It was all that holo practice.”

“Was it?” Dace shoots a sharp glance my way. “Nothing to do with that little DNA string then?”

“Of course not.” I fight the urge to dive under the surface. It feels like the natural thing to do, but I’m certainly not that experienced at swimming yet. Still …

I dive, propelling my body through the water until I reach the middle of the lake. Surfacing, I draw in a deep gulp of air.

“Holy shit, Ann.” Dace bobs up beside me. “You’re half fish.”

I slap the water in front of me, splashing a small wave into his face. “Don’t say that!” I turn and swim for the far wall.

“Sorry.” Dace shouts, keeping pace with my fierce strokes.

I swim faster.

When we reach the far wall we both grab for a protruding chunk of rock at the same time. Our hands collide. Before I can pull away, Dace clutches my fingers and holds tight. “I really am sorry. That was crappy of me.”

I catch my breath before replying. “It was. And untrue, no matter how you look at it. You said yourself the Selk are mammals, not fish.”

Dace stares into my eyes for a moment before his contrite expression dissolves into a smile. “Yeah, definitely not fish.” He squeezes my hand. “I think maybe you are a brand new species, though. You’re sure not like any other girl I’ve known.”

I can’t stay angry in the presence of that smile. “Well, that means squat. You’ve confessed your limited experience with girls.”

Dace laughs. “Okay, okay. Point taken.” He lifts his hand off mine and his dark eyes rake over my face. “One thing’s for sure, though, you’re like a new discovery every day. I never know what you’re going to say or do next. I may not know much about girls, but I know you’re special, Ann Solano.”

“Dive,” I reply.

We submerge and swim through the wide passage that leads under and beyond the wall.

Surfacing on the other side, I tread water as I face at least ten of the Selk. “Hello.” I speak aloud first, before sending the thought.
Hello.

Air. Water.

I nod my head at them and gaze about. Yes, lots of air and water. We’re in a much larger cavern, with a ceiling so high the airshafts are nearly invisible. But I spy slivers of sky threading the dark stone like a web of white fire. The silver flakes caught up in the stone sparkle in the light reflected back from the water. Around this lake is a shoreline of stone. Clusters of the Selk rest upon the rocky ledges.

All the alien eyes are fastened on Dace and me, but only the few Selk in the lake move, swimming toward us.

“They live out of the water, too.” Dace’s voice is hushed.

“Apparently.”

In a far corner floats a patch of emerald leaves, large and flat as plates. Fragile stems rise from the leaves, swaying under the weight of golden, bell-like flowers. Beautiful and strange, and undoubtedly the source of the traces of vegetation Dace found a few days ago.

The Selk welcome party encircles us as we continue to tread water.

“Do they understand hello?” Dace moves closer to me.

“Not sure.” I concentrate on sending positive messages.
Friends. Hello. We are friends.

One of the Selk slides up next to me. Its fur is sleek and damp, but surprisingly warm. I lift one hand and allow my fingers to hover over its back. I want to touch it, but I don’t.

Before I can pull my hand away, the Selk rises up, pressing its body against my palm.

Us.

I lose all my buoyancy, falling back with a great splash. My head slaps the surface and water rushes up my nose. My extremities tingle as if stung by thousands of insects.

Dace grabs my arm to yank me back to the surface. “You okay?” His eyes are filled with concern.

As are the eyes of the Selk. It leans in and butts my chest with its snout.
Air. Breathe.

“I am breathing.” From Dace’s puzzled expression I assume I’m speaking aloud.
Yes, breathing.

The Selk swims under my right arm. The warmth of the creature radiates through my bones, and I’m veiled in a calm that slows my rapid breathing. I lean into the slick, furry bulk of the Selk’s body, allowing my arm to drape across its back.

You. Thank you.
I push the thoughts forward.

The Selk rolls over on its side, until its dark eyes are fixed on mine.
Us.

I shake my head.
Not us. Me. You. Different.
I tap my chest.
Human.

“Are you talking to them?” Dace swims around to the other side of the Selk.

“Yes. It keeps saying ‘us.’ I was trying to explain that we’re different.”

“Maybe not so very, in their eyes.”

I meet Dace’s serious gaze over the Selk’s back. “I don’t know if that’s what they mean.”

“You don’t know it’s not.”

“No, I … ”

The Selk shoots out from under my arm like a torpedo, gliding toward the far shore. In the middle of the lake it turns to gaze at us, lifting one of its small paws.

“I think it wants us to follow,” observes Dace.

“Really, genius? You think so?” I swim away from him, toward the Selk.

As I approach, the creature leaps up, arcing its body above the surface before diving under. I follow its swift-moving silhouette, Dace close behind me. When we reach the opposite shore the Selk surfaces and slides onto a natural ramp of rock, propelling its bulky body clear of the water.

I climb the ramp on my hands and knees. Reaching the top of the incline, I pull myself into a sitting position. Dace flops beside me with a grunt.

“Must’ve sensed we needed a rest.” Dace eyes the Selk as it maneuvers its flipper tail so it’s curled around the base of its torso, creating a natural support for its upper body.

Other Selk lounge all around us—some even bulkier than the creature that guided us across the lake. A few are considerably smaller, but from the way they’re huddled next to larger creatures, I assume the little ones must be babies. Our Selk companion barks once and all the brown heads swivel in unison to study us with dark, limpid eyes.

“This,” says Dace, staring at the clusters of alien creatures, “could be dangerous.”

I lay my hand on his knee. “I don’t think they plan to harm us.”

Dace’s gaze shifts to me. “They told you?”

“No. They don’t really speak—sorry, I guess ‘think’ is the better word—in complete sentences. I get these fragments. More like ideas, but they’re very basic concepts. Nothing as elaborate as language.”

“It’s communication.”

“Yeah, I guess it is.”

We sit in silence, examining the Selk as they examine us.

After several minutes, the Selk that greeted me in the water waddles toward a dark patch in the cavern wall. It turns its head to stare back at us.

Dace scrambles to his feet. “I think it wants us to follow again.”

“Seems like it.” I rise and trail after Dace as he threads his way through the clusters of creatures. The scent of damp fur assails my nostrils, and I press my hand beneath my nose to block the smell. “Looks like we’re heading for a dead end, though.”

“Nope.” Dace disappears from view, and I realize what I took for a solid wall is a short section that blends into the blackness of the surrounding stone.

I slip behind the panel of rock and into another passageway. A narrow path runs along one wall, bordering a body of water as straight as a man-made canal. “So your theory’s correct—it’s all connected.”

Dace shoots a grin at me over his shoulder. “Despite your obvious doubt, I am occasionally right.”

Our Selk guide rises up, balancing on its flipper, and dives into the canal. Its awkward waddle is transformed into sleek symmetry as it swims toward a sliver of light.

Dace and I increase our strides, reaching the point where the passage makes a sharp turn to the right. The Selk has already vanished around the corner as we stumble, blinking, into another chamber.

This one is small but open to the sky. The Selk stops swimming and bobs in the pool of water, which is clogged with more of the flat-leafed plants as well as other vegetation.
Light
.
Air.

And food?
I kneel beside the water and touch the curling tendril of one of the plants. It’s purple as a ripe eggplant.

Dark brown eyes regard me with interest. The Selk plucks a piece of the floating vegetation with one paw. Lifting it to its snout, it takes a quick bite.
Eat.

“Amazing.” Dace whips out one of his monitors and holds it out before him. “Can you grab me a piece of that stuff, Ann?”

I break off a bit of the vine. “Sure. Seems to be what our friend wants, anyway.” I snap the tendril in half and hand Dace a piece while I sniff the other portion. “Smells like green beans.”

“But with much more protein.” Dace inserts the piece of alien vegetation into a Lucite vial and tucks the tube and his monitor into the pouch strapped to his waist. “The colonists never discovered this? I would’ve thought your grandmother might have searched it out long ago, being a botanist and all.”

“She doesn’t come out into the wild.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, my mind wrestles with this truth. I’ve always considered my grandmother fearless, but the fact she’s never, to my knowledge, discovered these native botanical wonders makes me question this belief. “They weren’t sent here for exploration, you know.”

Dace shrugs. “I suppose not. But I bet she’ll find this fascinating.”

I jump to my feet. “We can’t tell them yet. Remember?” I wipe my dripping hands on my equally damp shorts as I eye Dace with suspicion.

“I thought maybe you’d change your mind about that.” Dace meets my gaze without flinching. “Considering what your mom and my uncle are up to. If they knew about these creatures and your connection to them … ”

“No way.” My tone’s obviously troubling the Selk. It swims closer to the shore, chattering a string of squeaks.
Okay
, I think, although that’s probably not a concept it can understand.
Good.

“They need to know, Ann. If they have all the facts, I’m sure they won’t bring in machines to wreck the Selk’s habitat.”

“I’ll talk to my mother. I’ll find a way to stall them.” My nails dig into my palms. “Just don’t say anything. Or … ” I fix Dace with an icy glare. “I’ll never bring you back here. You know your uncle won’t let you go outside the compound unescorted.”

“I could sneak out.” Dace’s gaze doesn’t waver.

“You could. But I could plant a little bug in your uncle’s ear, mention hidden dangers and how I feel we shouldn’t continue exploring. I bet he’ll lock you in your berth until you leave this planet.”

We face each other, both breathing hard. The Selk sings out a long trill of ringing tones. “Maldición!” I clutch at my ears. The reverberation is rattling my thoughts.

“Truce,” says Dace, with a quick glance at the water creature. “Let’s just work together, okay?”

I nod as the ringing fades away. “Deal.”

“There’s actually a way to the surface.” Dace points toward a jagged path that leads upward. “Funny, that.”

“The paths?”

“Yes. Almost look like they aren’t natural, only … ” Dace shakes his head. “Don’t think the Selk could carve out something like that.”

“No.” I contemplate the implications of this thought as I stare into the Selk’s face. “How ’bout we head back to our bikes? We have to make that swim again before we’re too exhausted.”

Dace looks over at me, his dark eyes shadowed beneath his thick lashes. “I think you could swim it in your sleep.”

“Don’t give me that half-fish crap again. I just have some natural ability, that’s all.” I twist the band one more time around the bottom of my braid. It snaps and my hair springs free. “Now look what you’ve done.”

Dace cocks one eyebrow. “Me? My hands were nowhere near you.”

“You and your weird genetic ideas—always making me nervous.” I comb my fingers through my hair. “It’s going to be all up in my face while we’re swimming.”

Dace fishes around in his equipment pouch. “Here.” He tosses me a coil of elastic. “Always keep some lastic-rope on me. Comes in handy.”

“You stashed a whole laboratory in there?” I eye Dace as I wrap the springy rope about my hair, tying it off to create an impromptu ponytail.

“Pretty much.” He waves at the Selk. “Goodbye for now, and thank you.”