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But far in the stem, in a nook in the galley section, stood a greater treasure: two intact pithoi, the
monstrous ornate wide-mouthed storage jars typical of the Minoan society. Each had eight small
handles, hardly large enough for a fingerhold, arranged around the top and near the base. No doubt these
eyelets had held rope, so that the jars could be securely anchored as the ship heaved. But the rope itself
had long since dissolved away.
Don peered inside, but could not bring his headlamp to bear conveniently. His hand passed through the
jar without effect. They existed only in the other world: another frustrating dichotomy.
What had happened to the cargo? A ship this size might have had a capacity of several hundred tons, and
carried a thousand amphorae. All the shards remaining could not account for more than a dozen. They
would not have been washed out when the ship sank, for the hull remained tight. In fact, the ship should
not have sunk. Yet here it was, with a phase-world beam supporting it.
Was it a plant, after all? A manufactured artifact, placed within the past few years or months? All his
experience with Minoan artifacts told him no, that the ship was genuine but these logical incongruities
were weighing heavily.
"You've been quiet too long," Melanie said on the radio.
"Don, what are you up to?"
"I'm short of oxygen, I think," he said. This was true enough. As he spoke, he remembered what Pacifa
had said of Melanie, indirectly: And you're not in love with her. That spoke volumes! But it wasn't
necessarily true.
"Well, get yourself into a better current," she said, her concern coming through. Yes, she was perhaps in
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love with him, but that did not mean that he did not return the feeling. Why had Pacifa suggested
otherwise?
He hauled himself up to the main deck again, short of breath. He was glad he had some physical
justification for his discomfort, because with every discovery he made, his intellectual certainties took
another battering. It was becoming difficult not to blab something on the radio that would give away
more than was wise.
On the deck, walking the bike for oxygen and light, Don blinked. The mermaid was back.
CHAPTER 12 SPLENDID
Proxy 5-12-5-16-8: Attention.
Acknowledging.
Status?
Complicated. Dissension is occurring, and I fear that this is going to be difficult. The mission is in peril.
I cannot make a proper report at this time.
Still dizzy from his interior explorations and the effort of getting himself and the bicycle clear of the
hatch, Don nevertheless had the presence of mind to snap off the radio. "Splendid!" he exclaimed. There
really seemed to be no better name for her, considering her attributes. That cloud of hair surrounding her
head in the water...
She retreated with a graceful flexing of torso and tail. Her natural swimming motions only accented the
flair of her wide hips. Don realized that she was afraid of him. That gave him confidence. He was as
strange to her as she was to him!
The remaining mysteries of the Minoan ship could wait for a bit. Right now there was the living mystery
of the mermaid.
He studied her carefully. She was beautiful, from hair to waist; he could imagine no more perfect
attributes in the female of the species. Her breasts in particular stood out, being full-bodied and
supported by the water so that there was absolutely no sag. "Splendid," he said once more.
Actually, her nether portion was beautiful too. The smooth green scales began as her narrow waist
expanded into what would have been a remarkable derriere of a normal woman. From there her body
tapered into a strong, sleek tail, with only a suggestion of thighs near the origin.
Why had she returned, if she feared him? Where had she come from, really? She was mammalian, not
piscene; there were no gill slits in her neck, and he could see her handsome chest expanding and
contracting as she breathed.
Yes, breathed. Through her nose and mouth.
Was she phased?
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No, for she swam. She had to be breathing water.
Okay, he thought. Accept her as she is. And find out WHAT she is.
"Come here. Splendid," he said. "Let's talk." She heard him. But she seemed not to understand. She
hovered off the edge of the deck, beyond his reach, and surveyed him nervously. At least she did not
swim away, this time.
"Are you as curious about me as I am about you?" he asked her, pleased to note that he had no stutter.
"Is that why you're h-here?" Oops.
She surveyed him a moment longer, then upended attractively and swam swiftly to the ground.
"Don't go away!" he cried. "I won't hurt you. I only want to know "
But in a moment she was back, carrying something flat. It was a slate, like those once used for school
lessons.
ENGLISH? she wrote.
"American!" he exclaimed. "You do understand!"
Then, again, he wondered whether his mind had been affected. Fresh water under the sea; a preserved
Minoan ship; a mermaid who comprehended his own language. The stuff of dreams!
WHY DO YOU COME? she wrote.
And to her, he was the stuff of dreams! "I'm an archaeologist," he said.
Her eyes widened, I, TOO, she wrote.
A mermaid archaeologist? How far could credulity be stretched?
More and more, this reeked of a setup. Someone had been expecting him. Yet the problems of technique
and motive remained. Who could do such a thing and who would bother?
Which suggested again that the principle error lay within his own brain.
National security be damned, if that was what it was! If he was inventing all this, talking about his
delusion could not hurt anyone but himself. If it wasn't all in his mind, the others needed to know. He
needed to discuss it with someone.
He turned on the radio. "Melanie?"
There was a pause, and he thought she wasn't going to answer, but then she did. "Don, I wish you
wouldn't just cut off in the middle I mean, I'm afraid that you're hurt or "
"Melanie, something came up."
Abruptly she expressed concern. "Are you all right? Say you're all right, Don!"
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"Yes. I hope so- I " But what could he say now?
RADIO, Splendid wrote. WHO?
"That's Melanie," Don explained. "I "
"What?" Melanie asked.
"I I'm all confused." Lame apology for what Melanie could hardly understand. But with the mermaid
right here, what was he to do? "I'm not sure I'm quite sane at the moment. Too little oxygen though I
have enough now."
"I knew I shouldn't have left you alone! But you can tide through, Don. As soon as " Then she
evidently realized that she was breaking the rule herself, because she was supposed to pretend that
Pacifa was with him.
Her voice was reassuring, because it was so familiar. But Splendid remained before him, observing and
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