Chosen
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Chapter 6: Found and Lost
The men stared open-mouthed as she appeared before them in her full glory, no darkness or silty water to hide her alien appearance and muscular physique. She crouched on the deck beside Maria, who placed her little hand on the Princess' head and petted her fondly.
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They all stood at the edge of the boat looking into the water at the River Princess. The cloak of night had veiled her visit the night before, her magnificent figure illuminated only by the moon. Now she floated just off the stern, the aquatic splendor revealed by the daylight, her golden fins and rusty red skin glowing in the sun.
Her fins were spread out and they fluttered in the buoyancy of the river. From the largest fin along her back several darker stripes extended like a mackerel's coloration, and upon her shoulders were six eyespots, pale yellow dots outlined in black. Sometimes her scales sparkled with a bit of iridescence where the sunlight touched it, and when her movements stretched her backwards the gill slits beneath her chin and across her chest opened and they could see her salmon-red gills within the paler skin of her underside. The men, Sector in particular, watched her with great fascination. He had a camera out and was snapping pictures.
"Check her out! She's smiling!" exclaimed Hayes.
She indeed was—squinting and smiling up at Burns and Maria. The girl had brought him to the edge of the deck, leading him with one hand, her doll clutched in the other.
"Maria," addressed Trakker. "Ask her if there is anything she would like in exchange for her help. I am happy to pay her, but I suspect she has no need for the currency of the men-of-land."
"Yeah. Tell her she can have Calhoun for the job," grinned Dusty, nudging his teammate forward slightly.
Burns snapped. "Shut up, Dusty! I've had enough of your teasing about this."
"Hey, lighten up. It was just a joke."
"It wasn't funny."
"Guys, that's enough," said Matt, glowering at them.
"Just leave me out of this," Burns growled and stalked off to the far side of the boat.
Matt sat down on the edge of the deck, his feet bare and dangling in the water. "Maria, could you help me explain to the Princess what I need her to do?"
The little girl came up to the gap in the boat's rail.
"There is a sunken boat deep down, almost right below us. On that boat are four wooden boxes."
Maria got down on all fours beside the blonde man and looked to the Princess. Together their eyes closed. "She understands," said Maria after a moment.
"We have a long rope with a hook on it." He showed the fishwoman the end of the cable with the large, latching hook at the end. "The boxes have handles. Connect the hook to the handle, and tug twice on the rope so we know it is connected. Then we will pull the box to the surface."
Maria again conveyed the information, and the fishwoman reached out for the hook. Trakker handed it to her, and was impressed with how the creature studied it carefully and tried the latching mechanism, working it dextrously with her long clawed fingers.
"Let her know that I will be in the water to help get the boxes onto the boat, and that we are ready for her to begin. We need to pull up all four boxes."
"You're not going into the water with her, are you?" asked Julio.
"There's no need to be afraid of her. Maria certainly isn't, so why should I be?"
Maria reached out to the River Princess, and their hands touched, Maria's tiny pink one and the fishwoman's huge webbed one. "She understands," and with that the Princess dove into the murky depths.
There was something eerie about watching the cable unwind. Sector counted off the length markers painted on it as Trakker donned his scuba gear. The others stood about simply watching in silence.
When about a hundred and fifty feet of cable had unspooled, Maria suddenly froze, and then giggled. "She says it's strange diving so deep. She doesn't usually go down this far."
"Is she all right to dive so far down?" Sector asked.
"Of course," Maria replied after a pause. "There's just no need to go down this deep usually. It's just dark and empty."
Hayes retreated to the cabin to check on the boat's positioning, and corrected for the drift of the current with a burst of power. Trakker was pulling on his fins. "I feel pretty wimpy compared to her," he said flipping his webbed feet and spreading his hand.
As the two hundred foot marker dove into the river the cable ceased to unwind, but simply hung there twitching slightly. "She's looking now...there's the boat," said Maria distantly. She went to the bench where she had left her doll and and picked it up. She took of its long dress and began to move it through the air in a swimming motion, the hot pink hair fluttering in the light breeze blowing across the river.
"What's it like down there?" Lopez asked the girl, squatting down next to her.
"Just water and darkness...very few fish. The sunlight does not want to shine there," she said, diving the doll toward the bench and wriggling it around.
"Too much silt and organic matter in the water," added Sector.
And suddenly the girl stood up laughing. "She's found a box already!"
The cable suddenly jerked and unwound another thirty feet. After a minute of sitting still it jerked twice. "Pull 'er up!" called Trakker as he ungracefully flapped his way to the edge of the deck. "I'm going in to meet the crate." He tumbled backwards over the edge of the boat and began his dive as Sector hit the motor on the winch.
They all stood about expectantly watching the cable rewind, Sector counting down the lengths.
"I think I just got buzzed by the Princess," came Trakker's voice over the intercom. "Something just shot past me too quickly to see what it really was, but I got a flash of rust and yellow."
Moments later the River Princess suddenly erupted from the cloudy depths, leaping twice her length into the air, arcing backwards, and diving gracefully headfirst back into the waters. Maria dropped her doll and rushed to the railing. "She's so happy!" the girl exclaimed. Before anyone realized it the girl had kicked off her sandals and tossed off her dress and leapt into the water wearing just her little pair of shorts.
"Maria!" several of the men gasped.
The River Princess surfaced beside her and Maria flung her skinny arms around the cryptid's neck and kissed her cheeks. The fishwoman smiled and kissed her back, holding her affectionately.
The MASK agents watched, amazed at the joy and love shared between the two. And even Burns forgot his brooding and came over to look.
Trakker surfaced with the crate. "What's going on?" He looked over to see Maria in the Princess' arms.
"Oh, just having a little victory celebration," Lopez explained.
Trakker laughed. "Heh...well let's get this crate aboard before you break out the champagne."
They maneuvered the wood and plastic box onto the deck, and then the River Princess pushed Maria to the boat's edge, where Lopez leaned over and received her, pulling her up onto the deck and getting half-soaked in the process. Not that it mattered—it was hot and they were all dressed in beachwear—swimtrunks and tee-shirts and shorts. Hayes had on a particularly hideous Hawaiian shirt, of which Trakker had earlier said: "it looks like a Luau vomited all over a Kabuki theater curtain."
Sector unfastened the crate from the cable and handed the hook back to the waiting Princess. Taking it, she dove back into the river again, the line unspooling behind her.
Lopez grabbed a towel and wrapped it around Maria. "Você realmente ama a Princesa do Rio," he said, attempting a little Portuguese.
The girl nodded enthusiastically. "She's my best friend."
"Alley-oop!" huffed Trakker as he bounced backwards into the water once again. "One down...three to go."
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"Where did you get these binoculars, Vanessa? Out of a box of breakfast cereal?" Rax complained.
"Are you looking through the correct end?" she retorted, not even looking up from her book.
"Ha ha...funny."
"They're good binoculars. You're just trying to use them to do the job of a telescope. They're plenty good enough for what we need to see."
"We should just take out the boat and get a better look."
"Too suspicious."
A burst of static preceded Mayhem's voice calling over the radio. "How's the watch going?"
Vanessa slapped her book closed. "Well there you are! I've been trying to reach you for an hour!" she said with a touch of irritation in her voice. "Where've you been?"
"Out," he said flatly.
"Air-conditioned hotel lounge..." mumbled Rax.
"Well it seems they found our boat and are bringing up the cargo. They just pulled up a second crate from the river."
Mayhem chuckled delightedly. "Excellent. Any sign of MASK?"
"Not that we've seen. They've got two divers in the water and about four more guys on the boat. But no masks or vehicles or anything. Just a PNA flag."
"And a little girl," Rax said.
"Any weapons on the boat?"
"None."
"Twenty million in microchips and they're unarmed? I suppose looking inconspicuous is the best defense." He paused. "Well, I'll get out there and we'll grab that cargo once they've gotten all four boxes up. And if they don't find all four, we'll just take what they've got. Tavisson will pay for a partial delivery...just not the full amount. Mayhem out."
Rax lay down the binoculars. "I still can't figure out that one diver."
"The reddish-brown one?"
"Yeah. Must be some new kind of diving suit. He looks like he's got flippers on his arms and along his back as well, but no mask or air tanks."
"Kinda looks like the Creature from the Black Lagoon," Vanessa laughed. "Rawr!" She walked over to where Rax sat leaning against the trunk of a small tree and took her binoculars back from him. She looked out over the water again. "And they're not in shallow water either so I don't know how he's managing to dive and surface that far so quickly. The bends should be killing him at that rate. According to the navigational chart that water they're in is anywhere from 200 to 240 feet deep. She turned and walked toward the low bank to where Manta was parked in a cluster of trees. "I'm going to go suit up. I'd suggest you do the same."
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The last box came up on the cable and was carefully guided aboard the boat. Trakker climbed up behind it, followed by the River Princess. The men stared open-mouthed as she appeared before them in her full glory, no darkness or silty water to hide her alien appearance and muscular physique. She crouched on the deck beside Maria, who placed her little hand on the Princess' head and petted her fondly.
The others all stared with some apprehension, unnerved by the fact that there was nothing but air between her and them. It took even Sector a moment to regain himself after the initial shock at seeing her right there, only an arm's length away. When he did, he pulled out his camera and began snapping pictures again.
Trakker pushed his diving mask up onto his forehead and found his composure again and addressed her, offering praise and thanks, and asking again if there was anything he could do in return. He sat down on the bench and slipped off his air tanks and scuba fins.
The River Princess approached him curiously, reaching out to touch one of the discarded fins, fingering it briefly before looking at her own webbed feet. And then she drew herself up to full height, some six feet plus and inch or two, but she did not extend her fins as she had the previous night. Her eyes flitted briefly to Burns and then back to Trakker.
"She wants to know if the job is finished," asked Maria.
"Yes. We have what we want. Thank you."
The Princess looked briefly to Maria, whose face suddenly washed over with distress, and then the fishwoman sprang.
In two bounds she was across the boat. She seized Burns around the middle, her powerful arms encircling his waist and hips. Two more bounds and she leapt from the stern into the Amazon, Burns held half over her shoulder.
The others all ran to the side of the boat, shouting and crying out in a panic. Even Maria's normally lethargic grandfather was with them, calling after the Princess in Portuguese. They could see her swimming away with her captive, alternately diving and surfacing, forcing Burns to concentrate on simply breathing rather than escaping.
"Dusty! We need the vehicles. Get us back to São Miguel!" Trakker ordered. Hayes spun and darted for the helm. "Maria!" He turned to where he had seen the girl last, only to find her huddled up clutching her doll tightly to her chest, tears falling bitterly. "Maria, tell her..."
The girl hid her face. "I told her not to! I told her not to take him! But she wanted him so much!"
And suddenly the sound of a rapidly approaching helicopter came over the water, growing louder and louder.
"Switchblade! shouted Sector and Lopez almost in unison.
"VENOM!" Trakker cried. "Not now!" His throat tightened painfully.
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Chosen continues in Chapter 7: "Awakening"
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M.A.S.K. and all related concepts, characters, worlds, and events are property of DIC Enterprises, Inc and Kenner Toys. Original characters and story elements are property of E. Potter, writing under the pen name of Miratete.
This fic is dedicated to Ben Chapman (1925-2008), Ricou Browning, and Tom Hennesey (1923-2011)
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