VI. Man of the Hour

After being treated worse than a frog for dissection, Lewis was given an enclosure that was more like a private island than anything else. He still wasn't able to get his legs back as the trees on the sandy land masses rained streams of water, but there was enough to discover in the tank, and the problem of his new position as a merman to keep him occupied for some time.

He'd been there when Cleo and the girls first changed. Not right away, but it wasn't long before they'd spilled their secret, needing his help, mostly to fish Cleo out of trouble. But this was beyond avoiding water, and trying not to use powers willy-nilly on troublesome family members.

He was—quite literally—thrown into the deep-end and expected to learn how to swim. His tail was heavy and troublesome. More so after being kept in a horizontal position for days on end. For the first few terrifying minutes underwater, he thought he would drown as his cumbersome new appendage would not work as he thought it should. He learned the hard way that it would take more than a handful of minutes gasping underwater to kill a merperson. He had no idea how long he'd be able to stay under before it became dangerous—if it was dangerous—but he did not intend on finding out.

The miniature islands were anchored to the bottom of the tank so that hoisting himself onto one wasn't too much trouble. And the island water was warm. Not just the unnatural rain, but the sandy pool that was just the right size for two. That's where he chose to sleep most nights.

Overall, it wasn't too bad. Especially not after his previous treatment. He didn't even mind the raw seafood. Some of the smaller fish species weren't horrible when wrapped in seaweed and swallowed whole. It sure beat some of Lenny's cooking.

It was just a few days of frustrated swimming and plopping down exhausted on the beach before his visitor came, but he missed Cleo—his friends—the moment his head emerged from the water that first time and he realised he wasn't dead. He was never the strong one; not in his family, not at school, not even amongst his closets mates—and they were all girls. But the feeling that he'd escaped death, the panic of never being able to say a proper goodbye to those he cared for... it made him want to be the strong one, if only to find Cleo and help her escape.

So he pushed himself to learn the ins and outs of his new condition, starting with the easy things, like how fast he could go from one side of the tank to the next. He had no Petri dishes or microscopes; nothing to test his theories except his own limits. And so he experimented with the only thing he had.

The size of his island pool still nettled him, but wasn't long before Denman shed light on that addition.

The enclosure had a sound system installed so that Denman could let her whims be known by simply pressing a button and speaking into the device she kept on hand. Lewis hated more than anything the way her voice cut through the peaceful sounds of the waterscape that let him pretend he was somewhere else for a few hours.

"Since you've been such a sport, I'm doing you a favour," she said, heels clacking as she descended from the overhead walkway. Lewis could have an actual conversation with her here if he so chose. As if he had a choice.

"I'm letting you choose your mate," she announced, like someone handing out party favours.

"Like a best friend mate?"

Denman's laugh made Lewis viciously uncomfortable. "No. I mean a mate. The other specimen you'll breed with to bring in my cash crop."

"You're sick, Denman." He felt like splashing water into her face, but it would have accomplished nothing. He didn't even know if he'd have the use of powers without the suppressants.

"No, not sick. A bit mercenary, perhaps, but seriously... all this equipment is expensive. That whirring device on your tank alone was a few million. I'd be stupid not to make a profit while I'm here."

Lewis's curiosity got the best of him. "Where did you get all the funding in the first place?"

"That paper I wrote. It pulled a lot of strings for me. So again, this is all thanks to you, Lewis!"

"We deleted it... we destroyed the paper! We took back the sample!"

"Oh, please. Did you think I couldn't rewrite it? And I took a new sample. With so many other mermaids at my disposal, it was easy. Your friends were only the beginning. That sample made me aware of things that were beyond imagining before. All this is possible because of you."

Lewis had never felt so helpless and weak as he did in that moment. There was nothing but a wall between them, but it might as well have been made of titanium.

"Enough chatter!" she chirped. "Which of these do you like best? I want the best results, and I understand that means selection. You'll join more often with a specimen you find desirable." She muttered, almost to herself as she thumbed through her files.

"Ah, what about her?" She held up a picture of a girl with long, dark hair and bright blue eyes. Lewis hardly spared it a glance, glowering at Denman instead. "Pretty, isn't she? Maybe a little... well..." she shrugged and left the rest unsaid.

"Oh. Yes, here's our top candidate for female breeders." She held up a photo of Emma, evidently stolen from the class yearbook. "And you know her already."

You know her already.

As a friend! As Cleo's friend! The thought of being forced together with Emma was horrifying to say the least. Not that there was anything particularly wrong with Emma, but she was just so... bossy, so... absolutely not a person he could feel something beyond friendship for. Her treatment of Lewis was more like an older sister than anything.

Lewis could only muster a, "You're crazy."

"Just wait! I've got one more for you. I think you'll be interested..."

The picture was recent. Probably less than a week old. She was underwater—not her favourite place to be under the best of circumstances, though she was slowly learning not to fear it so much. At least, that's what she confided the last time they'd talked alone. As long as she had someone with her, the vastness of the ocean wasn't so frightening.

She certainly looked frightened, now. All the fear of the unknown had chased out the look of girlish wonder he was used to seeing in her eyes. There was nothing in her surroundings to suggest comfort or distraction from the horrors she'd faced. There was no colourful coral, no wisps of plant life, none of the fish species she would catch and bring for Lewis to name before they threw them back. It could have been the deep end of any swimming pool. Except there was no sunshine waiting for her at the top. No Lewis with her favourite towel.

He had to see her.

"Cleo," he breathed, and came a little closer to the edge.

"I suspected as much." Denman took the picture away and closed her files. "Alright, then! I'll make arrangements!"

It wasn't until after Denman disappeared that Lewis realised what he'd done.


Author's Note:

Poor Lewis! He fell right into that trap. Just for fair warning, we're gaining on the rated M parts, so if you're a sensitive reader, turn back now! There are many not-very-nice things in the future!