Chapter 5
"The sea does not like to be restrained. "
― Rick Riordan
Phil steps into the corridor, closing the door behind them. Jo seems unsure where to start, so he leaps in instead.
"I know, I know, I need to let the others in too, but it's hard not to want to just make observations for days on end. Can we even grasp how perfectly impossible he is?" Jo smiles wanly, agreeing, but it doesn't quite meet her eyes. Compared to the vivacious, bubbling girl he met yesterday, she seems distant and a little sad. "What- what is it?"
"The others, it's not that they think you're excluding them, it's more," She falters, picking her words so as not to shock Phil, "They don't think there's much to be learned from observation that can't be analysed in a much more, er, visceral way." She stops, wetting her lips and waiting, as the understanding of her words spreads over Phil.
"They want to slice him open," He states flatly. Even without any medical equipment to confirm it, Phil is sure his blood pressure is rising sky high at the very thought of it. "It's barbaric, and cruel, not to mention completely wasting valuable information that could be gained from observation and communication." He wants to mention that there is no way they're pulling Dan down to the anatomy labs, over his dead body more like, but maintaining Jo on his side is more important than giving her reason to question his priorities.
"I know! It's mad, I think they just don't know what to do with a freaking mermaid being dumped before them." She looks tired. Phil almost wants to give her a reassuring hug, or something comforting, but he's too busy playing the word 'visceral' over and over in his mind until he's almost ill at the thought of it. "Phil? What are we going to do?"
Phil blinks at her, "We?"
Jo rolls her eyes, "Just because I don't get private time with the merman doesn't mean I also want him chopped up like some steak by those muscleheads! There must be a way we can delay them, or make it a no-go zone. It's just that while the Prof is away, I don't think you have enough authority to stop them, not really-" She pauses, reconsidering, "Sorry, I don't mean that as a criticism of your technique-"
"No, no it's true," Phil concedes, "They have no reason to listen to me either. And I doubt the guards are going to be much help." He needs more time to think about this, it's all happening too quickly. "Listen, let me just pop back in there and grab my notes and- stuff. I'll meet you back at the rooms and we can work out what to do?" He doesn't know how to say it better, but they need to make some kind of plan, and fast.
She shrugs, and Phil gives her a quick squeeze, grateful for her warning and for being on his side. She gives him a small smile, and is about to leave when Phil stops her.
"Hey, did anyone mention if they found anything else at the same time as Da- as the merman?" Jo seems to notice his stumble, so he presses on, "Like, any other objects they picked up with him, anything we can use to build a case for further observation."
"I'm not sure, honestly! There's a little tank by the wall where they were keeping the water they brought him up with and doing some sampling for acidity and spectrometry, maybe check in there?"
Phil nods, "Thanks, I will!" He turns and heads back into the room, not waiting for her to leave.
"Phil!" Dan's delight is unmistakable as Phil hurries down the stairs, and he smiles up at Dan, trying to sweep all thoughts of what Jo just told him out of his mind. He is clearly unsuccessful, because Dan's glee is short-lived and he swims over to Phil, eye's narrowed with concern. "What are you so worried about?"
"You're in danger," He starts, "They want to start doing more… experiments on you, so I need to find a way to keep you safe."
Dan falls silent, his tail swinging from side to side. It's a short while before he comments again, and the words are so quiet in Phil's mind that he has to concentrate to pick them up. "…but you'll keep me safe, won't you Phil? It's worked so far!"
The fear in his voice makes Phil want to give him a great hug, just to give him a moment of safety, but it's an impractical and uselessly sentimental thought, so instead he explains, "They want to slice you up, and even if I'm meant to be in charge, if enough of them get together, I can't physically stop them." He's not sure what to say next. He has no great plan yet, no way to save Dan from this impending horror, but he so desperately wants to help him.
With no warning, Dan kicks off and begins swimming around his tank once more, vivid strokes propelling him swiftly through the water. Phil's mind is silent and void of any input from Dan, and for the first time, it feels a little lonely with just his own thoughts. He's only shared his mind for little more than a day, so there's no telling how different it would feel to combine your thoughts with the rest of your community for your entire life- or how devastating it would be to suddenly hear only silence where your friends and family used to constantly be. He watches Dan swimming, each stroke, purposeful and determined, from one corner to the next, as if he can somehow escape his fate if he tries hard enough.
Phil leaves him for the moment, heading over to the tank Jo had mentioned. It was just as she'd said, filled with freezing cold water, with several probes and measures sticking out of it at varying angles. The tank itself contains only water, but next to it there's a small box. Phil pries the lid open after a few attempts and several nails lost, but when he spies what is inside, the pain in his fingers is forgotten. Amidst a few clumps of algae and several stones is a beautiful shell. It twists elegantly along its length, a kaleidoscope of different browns, from bronze to golden to a deep, earthy tone. A long string has been cleverly crafted by weaving together string-like seaweed, and it's looped through a small puncture in the top of the shell, forming what is unmistakably a necklace. Phil is surprised that this never appeared in the report, or was even mentioned. Of course, under the circumstances, the scientists at the time were still probably in a state of shock, too overwhelmed to bother digging around in the remains of their abnormally fascinating trip.
He scoops it up, placing it carefully in one of the feeding containers for the tank. Walking back over to Dan, Phil can see that he is still agitated, if only by the all too calm way he is swimming. Placing the container down, Phil reaches up and places one hand against the glass.
"Hey," He leads, softly, and when Dan doesn't respond, he continues anyway, "What about if we transferred you to my personal laboratory?" Dan shoots him a look, but doesn't stop swimming. "I promise it's nothing like this, it's all marine life and the very best equipment so I can adjust the environment to be anything you'd like. It might be hard to convince the government to let you move but I'm sure, if I push it, we could make it happen."
There is still no response from Dan, but he's stopped swimming around, and he floats over to where Phil is. He hasn't said no yet, so Phil decides it's a thought worth pursuing. He hasn't really considered the logistics of it, or even how to convince the institute to make it happen, but there's no way they're getting Dan out of that water on his watch.
"I know it's not ideal, but it's a start. And I can bring in some food you'd actually enjoy, and maybe even some of the flora from your area? We'd be able to chat properly too, without cameras or interruptions. There's so much more I can tell you about humans, and I'm sure there's lots I could learn from you!" Phil can hear that his voice is only getting more strained and desperate but he can't help it.
"I-" Phil is so surprised by the gentle sound of Dan's voice that he almost lets out small cry, he's been waiting so keenly to hear it, but manages to stay quiet, straining for the rest of the sentence. "That sounds lovely Phil, it really does, but I really just want to get back to my people, to my home."
Of course he does. Phil doesn't know why this realisation is so upsetting; it's the only obvious successful outcome that Dan could aspire for. He'd been foolish to concoct some idealised learning relationship, all the while Dan being stuck in a tiny space, away from his home and his community. But, even just for a short while, Phil thinks it could be marvelous. An interspecies conference, almost! He feels a little foolish to be so disheartened by Dan's response, as if it's somehow a personal rejection. Remembering Dan's abilities, he quickly crushes this thought, praying Dan didn't hear it, but the merman in question still seems distracted, gazing off into the distance, when Phil suddenly has another thought.
"Oh! I- I didn't even think to ask." And why should he have? There's no reason that Phil would need to know such personal information, no rational or scientific reason at all. But Dan must have already heard it, because he finally meets Phil's eyes and smiles wistfully.
"There's no one special waiting for me, not in that kind of a way." Phil flushes, not needing to be privy to this information. He's not sure if the relief is because he's not somehow accidentally offended Dan, or because Dan's talking again, but he latches onto it.
"No one special? Do your people have, er, partners," he inwardly curses his awkwardness, flush deepening, "or mates, or whatever you call it?" Shifting his weight slightly from foot to foot, his eyes flit around the tank, unable to hold Dan's unbroken gaze.
"We do." That's all he reveals, unaffected and apparently waiting for Phil to say something next. Suddenly feeling, as he is the one trapped in a tank, Phil stutters, "I- I don't have anyone either, in case you were wondering. Not that you would be." He stops talking, for once grateful to have the sense that he's being an idiot.
Dan stretches out his arms, tracing a single finger slowly down the glass. Here, he looks so perfectly poised and elegant that Phil suddenly has the oddest desire to capture the image somehow; a high definition photo perhaps, or an oil painting. It's such a strong and bizarre urge, and a moment later it's gone. Luckily for him, Dan appears to have not noticed anything, his attention seeming focused on watching his finger complete the stroke.
"I am so very grateful to have met you, Phil, and to have shared these past two days with you," Dan moves closer, his eyes eerily unblinking, dark brown and stunning amongst the blue, "I cannot tell you what it means to have found an ally- a friend. But this is not my home; it's not where I belong."
Phil doesn't doubt for a second that Dan is telling the truth, and he dips his head in acknowledgement of Dan's praise, smiling back at him.
"No, no you're right. It's absolutely been my privilege," he replies softly, "And I understand. Give me a few hours and I'll see what Jo and me can come up with, okay? There's got to be something we can do." Without waiting for Dan to respond, he turns and picks up the container. Dan looks like he wants to say something else, but this gives him reason to pause. As he watches, Phil walks to the corner of the tank and pushes the container through what was designed as a feeding hatch. After a moment, the chute seals on Phil's side and unlatches on Dan's side, with not a drop of water split.
Dan swims down to where the container has come through, at first concerned but the furrowed brow is soon swapped for a delighted smile as he sees what is sitting inside it. He pulls out the necklace between both hands, admiring it for a moment, the shell softly floating through the water before his eyes, before pulling the length of the seaweed chain over his head. When he looks back down to Phil, he appears somehow different, somehow stronger.
"Thank you, thank you," The words echo through their minds, and Phil gives him a small smile.
"You look beautiful." He says.
He looks long enough to watch Dan's mouth fall open, the tiniest bit, and then he turns around, making his way up the stairs. There's a soft trickle in his mind, and he knows that it's Dan trying to say something, but if he focuses his mind and makes himself remember the colours of Dan's tail, one by one, it seems as if somehow he can stop anything else getting in. Turquoise, cerulean, teal and royal blue, the way the purple ones would hide most of the time, but then suddenly you'd spot them like a hidden treasure, the Dartmouth green that was somehow tangled up in there too; he thinks of them all, one by one, each scale of that magnificent tail, until he's out the door and down the corridor, and he's certain that Dan can't hear him anymore.