"That was a damn stupid stunt," says Professor Drake.
Adam Milligan nods, although his teeth are chattering so hard that it's barely discernable. The cup of cocoa he's clutching feels good in his numb hands. "I'm sorry," he says for the fifth or sixth time—he's lost count.
"Scuba-diving to see if we could verify the sightings is one thing during normal working hours with others there for safety's sake, but alone, in the middle of the night? What were you thinking?"
"I wasn't going to—I didn't plan—" He'd been on the dock, getting his gear ready for the next day, when he'd seen the light illuminating the glassy lake. The intense luminescence was definitely coming from under the water, and it matched the phenomenon described by the witnesses who claimed to have seen a mermaid.
Adam knows that mermaids were long ago debunked; modern scientists are confident that early sailors had sighted sea cows-manatees—but manatees are native to rivers and canals in Florida, for crying out loud, not a freshwater lake in Kansas. Okay, the body of water is in fact a reservoir, but that's a technicality. The point is, the locals have claimed to see a mermaid over the last few months, and when that brilliant radiance appeared, Adam's reaction had been to don his wetsuit and row out to take a look.
"I saw the light that the witnesses described. It was like an underwater searchlight, incredibly bright. I wanted to get a closer look and I just didn't think," he admits. After all he went through to get the job as Professor Drake's research assistant, he can't believe he's done something so dumb; he'll be lucky if he's not sent packing. "It was a bed call. I was wrong."
It's dawn now—Adam can hardly believe he's lost almost eight hours—and beyond them, the reservoir looks serene. Adam takes a sip of the warm cocoa and scans it again for signs of the underwater beacon. Nothing.
There's no indication of anything strange in or around the lake, and Adam's not sure if he should tell what he saw or not. He hasn't got any proof; it's liable to sound like he's making it up to avoid trouble...although saying he's seen a mermaid would probably get him into more trouble than it would solve.
And besides, it wasn't a mermaid. The being who'd been hovering there in the midst of the glowing, pearly orb had definitely been male. He'd had dark hair, a modest beard and the bluest eyes Adam's ever seen.
"It didn't seem to be phosphorescence," he says. Pauses. Decides not to commit, lest he be committed. "I couldn't tell what was causing it." Which isn't completely a lie, because while he knows who caused it, he doesn't know what caused it.
"Did you get any samples?"
"Umm…no, sir. I didn't have the kit with me."
Drake sighs and shakes his head. "You'll learn. If you don't kill yourself in the process."
"You're going to give me another chance? Thank you!"
"We all make mistakes. There was one time I left the lens cap on, and—never mind. Just don't let anything like this happen again. Now, finish that cocoa. Let's get you up to base camp for some warm clothes and breakfast."
Adam drains the last of the sweet liquid, and takes one last look back before leaving the waterfront.
Mermaid or merman—hell, be politically correct—the mer-person hadn't had a fish tail like the myths claimed, and he hadn't had gills, either. He'd had ordinary legs and had seemed to be breathing without artificial assistance. The story might be fishy, but the man with blue eyes had looked almost exactly like a normal human being.
Except for the wings. You'd think fluffy, feathered wings would look bedraggled, but the water hadn't seemed to affect them. He'd fluttered them a bit to tread water, but they'd been pristine when he'd extinguished his light and swam swiftly away.
Adam never tells anyone about the winged man surrounded by light five fathoms below the lake. He might be a little reckless, but he's not crazy.
