"…to slip beneath the surface and soar along the silent bottom of the sea agile and shining in water honeycombed with light."
- Ellen Meloy
By the time Phil leaves, morning has well and truly come, hot sun glaring down at him through large windows as he is escorted out of the labs to an accommodation facility by a new pair of security guards. He was initially concerned that they might be wanting to get him out of the way to try something else, but when he asked for Professor Desabres, Jo had explained that she'd flown back down to Canberra, and that before leaving, she'd placed Phil officially in charge of the investigation. A little amused by his sudden power, Phil had sent everyone home to sleep, half because they must have been as exhausted as he was, half because he had no idea how to lead an investigation, and when Jo had suggested that he might want to do the same, it had seemed like a good idea.
Apparently being head of the group didn't mean that Phil was exempt from being escorted everywhere, or allow him to return to his actual home. All scientists involved were being housed in a series of rooms on the other side of the compound, each with a small bathroom and study area for their use. After being locked in, Phil was pleased to find the bed was relatively comfortable. More disturbing, however, was the small selection of his own clothes that had somehow found their way into the wardrobe, as well as his underwear, socks and shoes. They were apparently quite thorough about their relocation duties.
Although he had all the good intentions of resting up making thorough notes of his exchange with Dan, once Phil flops onto the thin mattress he succumbs all too quickly to heavy eyelids, dreaming of shining blue water and rippling scales.
He wakes up a few hours later, feeling cripplingly sedated and barely able to move his limbs- but then he remembers, and he's up in an instant. A shower might have been the next logical step, but Phil just opts for a change in clothing and grabs an apple to chomp on as he walks back to the laboratory, escorted by the ever-present, silent guards. His mind is far from their path, torn between excitement to see Dan again and wishing he'd done some research instead of just sleeping- but now that he was awake, the books could wait.
The guards leave Phil at the doorway and, surprising himself, he brazenly salutes them; once their backs are turned. Tossing the apple core into a bin, he darts inside. Even though he knows exactly what to expect this time, the way Dan shivers as he turns in the water, swimming around to face Phil, is beautiful and impossible and still utterly overwhelming.
"Hello!" He keeps his voice low, waiting until he reaches the tank to speak out. The sound of his voice is jarring, hoarse from lack of use. But Dan doesn't seem to think so, his face lighting up as it comes close to Phil's.
"I missed you." He replies. Phil grins, a warm happiness settling in his chest. He is about to reply, but pauses, inspecting Dan's face a little closer. His skin seems somehow less vibrant, dark circles weighing down beneath his eyes. Dan blinks back at him, answering the question before it's asked.
"I find it difficult to rest here, I'm sure you understand." He doesn't sound offended, but Phil immediately goes to apologise – he had a bed, a room of his own and the privacy of being human. Dan isn't so lucky.
"I'm sorry, you must be exhausted! I, erm, do you normally sleep?" The words tumble out with an inward cringe.
"Not as much as you, it would seem." Dan seems to pause, or isn't transmitting his thoughts loud enough for Phil to hear. Phil doesn't utter a word, trying to keep his mind clear and inviting, hoping Dan will keep talking, and he does.
"Humans sleep and wake as the sun moves, but we don't have such a regulated routine. We sleep when we need; it's always dark deep under the sea. I remember the first time I saw day change into night, up on the surface, it was extraordinary." He pauses, blinking slowly at Phil, then commands, "Close your eyes."
"Why?" asks Phil, but he does it anyway.
Behind his eyes, the darkness settles into a hazy mesh of indistinguishable silhouettes. He tries to pick out shapes, or familiar lines, but before he can isolate any clear picture, the black hues merge to become blue, and all of a sudden- he is rushing through the water, powerful tail sending the water rippling down along his shoulders and back as he kicks his way to the surface, red-orange sunlight refracting down through the clear water. There's a flurry of bubbles against his face as he bursts through the water's edge, the warm sunlight hitting his face as he takes a deep gasp of the chilling air, filling his lungs and mouth with the taste of it.
Finding a balance between his motions, he rests at the top of the surface, hair slicked back and skin tingling in the still air, eyes fixated on the swiftly disappearing sun as it slips behind the horizon, staining the sky as it falls. The impossible colours are left behind, purples and pinks streak the clouds and- suddenly he's back in the lab, eyes open and blinking away tears he'd never noticed forming. Wiping them on the edge of his sleeve, Dan slowly comes back into vision, floating before him as he was before, looking just as startled as Phil.
His head feeling rather muddled, Phil backs away a little, collapsing down onto one of the chairs and waiting for the room to stop tipping. He shakes his head, frowning, and looks up at Dan.
"What was that? How did you- I could feel the water and the cold and everything!" The room feels unnaturally warm, despite his light clothing, and Phil wonders if it always feels this way to his friend.
"I-I'm not sure, I've never done that before." Dan seems excited rather than concerned, which must be a good thing. "Perhaps it's because you've no defence mechanisms set up, even just the familial ones we make out of habituation, but I've never heard of someone communicating properly with a human, so perhaps the ability to share memories is not unique, but the situation where it might be possible is rare." With an arch of his neck, Dan stretches out both arms, rolling his neck and exposing the skin beneath his chin. Phil watches as the thin slits of his gills ripple gently, slowly wheeling the chair a little closer to the glass. Dan lowers his arms and adds, "And I don't eat as regularly as you either, one feast will last us for a long time, so we clearly have different methods for energy conservation."
Phil nods, rubbing his temple with one hand.
"It makes sense that you'd have to have some amazing form of insulated storage, given your build and the temperatures you must be exposed to!" Dan just watches him, so Phil decides to pry a little further. "Do you feel the cold?"
"Yes." Dan kicks off, his tail undulating through the water as he makes a small round of the tank, but his words continue to flow, "I feel the cold on my skin, and the deeper I swim, the cooler it gets, particularly if the dive is very quick. You humans can go into the ocean and not perish from the cold yes? You have a system for dealing with the change in temperature, and so do we, but clearly ours is superior." Phil swears he can hear the smirk in Dan's words, and makes a disgruntled face.
"Hey, you've got the tail and the gills, I think we're doing alright!" He sticks the point of his tongue out at Dan's back, but doesn't pull it back quickly enough to hide it when Dan's flips around quickly, raising his eyebrows at what he sees.
"Your skin is inadequate." He grins, swimming back towards Phil. "But I agree, your bodies are designed for the land, not the sea. You are unable to breathe in the water, and it's quite possible that by swimming there you may drown. Why, then, are humans so fascinated with being in water?"
It's a fair enough question, and Phil has to think for a moment before answering. It's been a long time since he's been able to have an open, interesting discussion with an objective partner, and he's relishing the taste of it. His medical background is sparse at best, he's never been that interested in humans, but he's pieced together enough on evolution to make an effort.
"I suppose we are born swimming- in our mothers womb, in the fluid there. And there's the theory that we evolved from marine life to start with anyway, I'm sure we have a common ancestor somewhere back there." At this, Dan inclines his head in agreement. "But we have no way of surviving in water, not really. Even in vitro, the nutrients and oxygen are filtered down from the mother's haemoglobin, so unless we can work out a way to have an alternate supply to oxygen underwater, there's the first of many problems standing in the way. But you're right, we are fascinated, surely beyond the ritualistic and hygienic aspects of swimming- I remember bath time being one of the highlights of my youth!"
Dan chuckles, small bubbles escaping from between his lips, messily making their way up to the surface. Phil's about to ask why, but then a memory of his toy duck, bright yellow plastic, floats up to the forefront of his mind. Rolling his eyes, Phil furiously attempts to think of something else, but once the thought has planted, he can't seem to shake the image away.
"I can see why it was a highlight, did you really find bubbles to be so unbelievably exciting?" He's laughing now, fingers moving to cover his mouth, and he looks so amused Phil can't help but join in.
"Not all of us have actual fishy friends to swim about with!" At Dan's questioning eyebrow, Phil projects an image of another of his earlier memories, curled up on the couch watching 'The Little Mermaid', as she swims about with singing fish and crabs. At this, Dan bursts into laughter again, his eyes screwed shut with the effort of it.
"Is this how you see us? Truly?" His laughter wears off and he shakes his head, "Well I had no such reference for humans, other than stories and sightings, but we were always amused by your strange coverings." He makes a gesture to what Phil is wearing, who immediately feels self conscious about his choice of clothing. The baggy t-shirt and old jeans were more than reasonable for working alone in a lab, but they were hardly worthy of representing the choice of the human population when it comes to getting dressed.
"Other people have all kinds of fancy clothing, this is just-" He ruffles his hair, uncharacteristically nervous, "It's just what I wear! It's not very cool you know? Not very accepted."
"Ah, that I do understand, often others don't accept that we need to think beyond the way we live now, they don't agree with my concerns for the future." He shrugs, a small flash in his eyes betraying emotions his calm and steady voice can contain. "They have their family and there is no way they can imagine it being any other way. My parents died when I was only young, there was an illness that spread to many in our tribe, but I was not affected." His words come too quickly for Phil to offer condolences, "That was all I knew back then, being alone and waiting for the news that they were better, swimming and smiling, but it was not to be. So I cannot imagine life without the possibility of disaster and destruction, perhaps both our views are flawed to that respect."
There's a silence, comfortably, and Dan seems lost in thought, so it's a few moments before Phil speaks up.
"I'm not sure if it's entirely the same, I mean-" He snorts, "Of course it's not. How could it be! But growing up, it was just me and my mum. She was everything, really everything. I'm lucky, I know, I had her by my side for twenty-two years, I don't know where I'd be if she hadn't been there. Then one day it was a positive mammogram, and then chemo and radiotherapy and hospitals all the time," Dan is watching him attentively, so Phil focuses on memories of the sterile, white corridors and the way the nurses smiled, knowing just how little there was they could do to help. "Sometimes I wonder if she stayed around so long for me, not for her. It was so painful, I know that, even though they gave her lots of medications and she always said it was fine." He sighs, "It's hard to do all this and not be able to call up and tell her everything that's happening and hear about her day too. She was the one who taught me about the ocean and everything amazing inside."
Phil suddenly smiles, "You know, one of the only things I have left of my mother's is a book she gave me when I was very young." His accommodation was small and so packing had been restricted, he'd never intended to stay longer than the study required. But, despite that, he'd been unable to leave without packing it. "It's about mermaids, and mermen I guess, and it doesn't really have a plot, just lots of beautiful drawings – it's silly, I know, but it always gave me the feeling that there was so much more to life than we understood, and that made it less sad." He shakes his head, feeling a little foolish, "Does that even make sense?"
"Yes, it does." Dan's eyes drift up, above Phil's head, his face softening as he remembers. "Though I don't remember much, my parents gave me a necklace when I was very young, it has been in our family for years. Ornaments are not usually worn, unless it is of hierarchical significance or a valuable heirloom."
"So it's valuable then?" Phil reasons, wondering what kind of gem it could be.
"Both. It's a shell that hasn't been seen anywhere else in many years, originally just collected as a thing of beauty to present to a lover, but it was passed down through the generations and someone eventually wove a chain for it to sit on. And," Here he pauses, as if regretting an earlier confession, but his eyes meet Phil's and he continues, "And I am next in line to be leader of our group. Therefore it is not only my right but also my responsibility to distinguish myself to the others, as their leader and someone they can always approach, always trust. I've been wearing the necklace since I was young and assumed my role not long after I could swim alone."
Thinking about what it must mean to be a lead for Dan's people, Phil is surprised by Dan's tone. "That sounds like a pretty heavy burden to have, do you ever wish someone else could be next in line? Not that you wouldn't be great! But it sounds like a big load to deal with, especially alone." He winces at his last word. But Dan seems unfazed.
"It is the greatest honour I could hope to receive. It is a judgement of my temperament and a trust in me that has been decided by many elders. I have definitely questioned this judgement many times!" He laughs and Phil joins in with a giggle. "But ultimately it gives me a place to be and a path, even if my parents are no longer here to guide me along the way. It's as if by wearing it, I can feel them with me, even though that is just my mind and not physically possible, but it's nice all the same."
At his pause, Phil bites his lip, gaze wandering down to Dan's bare chest.
"I lost it, or it was taken from me, at some point between the ocean and this… tank." The last word is envisaged with an injection of hatred. "I think they might have taken it off me, but it was bright and loud and I can't quite remember. It was the only thing I ever had of my parents other than distant memories..."
"I'll ask around." Phil doesn't need to be telepathic to know that's really what Dan is asking. "I promise if it's here I'll find it."
Dan stares at him, his eyes trained back on Phil's, unnerving and unwavering. "Thank you. Maybe you could take some images and try to work out what happened to their species?" Dan smiles, properly, a spark of excitement igniting, "Maybe we could work together and see if they moved somewhere else, maybe we could find more of the shells once I get-"
He cuts off mid-sentence, as there are two knocks on the door, and it opens with a clear voice sounding down from above.
"Phil? Are you in here?"
"That's me!" Phil turns around to see Jo leaning over the railing, looking more solemn than the last time they'd met. "What's up?"
"Nothing! Nothing, can I just ask you something quickly?" When Phil nods, waiting, her eyes dart to Dan and then to the security cameras, and Phil gets the hint. "I'll be right up."
"Thanks." Then she's gone, darting out the door as if staying in the room any longer would endanger her somehow. Apparently, stupidities and misconceptions that the other may have given her about Dan seem to have altered her enthusiastic approach from earlier. It seems like an unlikely occurrence, perhaps he can talk it through with her and prove Dan's worth and-
"Go," Dan's voice is warmer than before, trusting- "I'll be right here when you get back, don't worry."
"I wasn't!" Phil replies, but he turns back at the door, just for a second, to get a last glance of Dan, curling backwards gracefully. Their eyes meet for a second, and in their shared glance are the secrets of possibility, slowly but surely unravelling.