The Abysmal Plane

The thick salt taste of the sea air was preferable to the stench of rotting flesh that clogged his nose, and a shrieking of seagulls nearly deafened him to what the local worker was telling him. Behind him, three beached cetaceans lay glistening in under a dismal, overcast sky. The light was enough that every gem of moisture fallen from the heavens reflected a prism before falling to sand, to fill puddles or tide pools, to soak skin or cloth.

"I don' get it, doc," the local dockhand was telling him, "I know it goes on elsewhere, like? But we ain't never seen such in these waters as I ever heard."

The small coastal town was on a lagoon. Two long piers stretched into the water from either side of the baymouth towards the open sea. Small fishing ships had been docked for the occasion, as the fishing was suddenly poor outside the bay.

"I mean, that they were all comin' in like that was odd 'nough, but…"

According to the locals, the only thing past the bar was the brine.

"It's like none of 'em want ta be out on the ocean; not even th' birds."

The oceanographer glanced over his shoulder, to the bloated corpses. Seagulls circled, landing and scavenging as was their life… but ravenous and aggressive, even to one another.

Past the beach and its carnage was the lagoon, sparking and strangely opaque under the midday sky. Beyond the sound of ocean spray was the whistling calls of dolphins.

oO0Oo

"But why?"

The elder had no answer for the calf. Whales were a mystery, and best often left to their own.

Seeing no forthcoming reply, the youngster dove. Following the bay floor, he circled the lagoon from bar to bar, skimming the sand and sending the crabs scattering in a burst closer to the shore. He came to the slightly cooler water of the inlet, and stopped.

Her pod had come into the bay days ago, inexplicably. He felt their terror, and it made him fear. He slid slowly with the current, coming closer to the blackness beyond.

Out there, something moved.

A clumsy echo returned not a creature, but he had felt the change in the water's rhythm.

A whistle high called to her from the bay, and he eased about to find one of the newly adults close behind him.

"Ecco, something moved," the calf cooed, and the young male paused beside him.

"You shouldn't be out here; it could make the mothers worry."

"I'm not afraid of the mothers!" the youngster giggled at the thought of one who had passed into status being worried about the matriarchs… but slipped away anyhow, back towards the bay.

As he did, he felt the other's echo, blank as his had been. He scarcely held onto the thought, so swiftly did his attention fly.

At the inlet, Ecco turned slowly towards the bay. From the corner of his eye, he did think something moved, but eyesight and water were an awkward combination, especially in this inky blackness, and calf songs were as reliable as gull gossip.

oO0Oo

A few dolphins skimmed the water, occasionally leaping high beyond the water's surface. On land, the reporter took a moment and a few frames of film to capture the images into photo.

She sidestepped, catching up with the oceanographer as he watched the display.

"Sir, do you have any insight into what would cause these creatures to beach themselves? Could there be something in the water… something of any danger to the public?" and other such questions of a pretentiously intelligent nature.

The man eventually looked down, for he was high of stature, once the woman paused, either for him to speak or for her to catch her breath. He sighed deeply, and the woman remained silent, certain she would get her answer.

"There is no known threat to the public, and we may never know the cause. The workings of these creatures' minds are something of a mystery…."

"Will you be further investigating this matter for the state, or is the case closed?"

The rush of the waves, screaming of the gulls… the far off dolphin noise blended together in the dearth of reply. The man was sad, watching the ocean with a deep desire held only by those with long, ancient memories.

Now he felt aged, all alone in his right… and the astute reporter saw none of this, nor his desire to be left alone.

"Sir?"

"I will be investigating," he replied, finally, "But I shall be working on my own, with the help of the local fishermen."

oO0Oo

Ecco peered above the waves, where eyesight was much better. He watched the dryside creatures as they examined the whales. Scavengers, probably, as opposed to the hunters that came into the water. Creatures obeying the rule of life.

He watched, he played, he did much to forget about the misgivings.

But in the back of his mind, he knew. Somehow, the lore of once before was imbedded in sea of his learning, deep below in the mud and bedrock that was his subconscious. That which now told him to stay where the water had shoals.

It was a shadowy knowledge, that of the lurker in the deep.