Chosen

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Chapter 18: For Love or For Politics

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In the late afternoon, Tom Delaney came to the Red Sunset in his canoe to fetch Burns, who like any groom appeared to be a mix of emotions and nervousness. But all parties involved had reassured him the outcome of the evening ceremony would be nothing but positive, and Sector had double-checked the homing signal on his anklets...just in case. All he had to do if things went wrong was to push the tiny recessed button on the side and they would drop everything and come for him.

Orchid sat in the boat as well, and as they went she took out some paints and carefully drew eyespots across Burns' back, filling their centers with red. Then she turned him around and painted his face with the same patterns her husband wore. And while Burns took over the paddle, Orchid touched up Tom's facepaint and shoulder spots.

At sunset Trakker and Sector were picked up by Dr. Delaney and his son in a small motorboat, and Scott, Maria, Hayes, and Lopez crowded into Alex's boat. The parties went out onto the vast lagoon, following the northern shore

"So what happens at this ceremony?" Trakker asked.

"Not much really," said the eldest of the Delaneys. "A shaman from one of the tribes presides over the ceremony, and basically recites a bit of local history, and then they're considered married."

"That's it?"

"Simple and to the point," said Dr. Delaney.

"It's the story of the first marriage between the men-of-water and the men-of-land," said Virgil. "It tells the tale of when a great flood came in a time of war between the two species. The men-of-land were losing as the waters rose and drowned everything, and they feared they would perish. They tossed sacrificial victims to the men-of-water in hopes of saving themselves, and the fishmen ate them. But then one of the men-of-water did not eat the victim given to him, and instead he took her away and fell in love with her. He found he could communicate with her and made her his wife. Together they stopped the war between their people and formed an alliance between the two. No more would they seek to destroy each other, no more would they eat the flesh of each other, and there would be intermarriage to remind themselves of the union between them."

"And did this actually happen?" queried Trakker.

"Who knows? But it's a good explanation for how the men-of-land and men-of-water began the intermarriage," chuckled the doctor.

"The story is pre-Columbian at least, but there's a good chance it's an ancient legend from the time of a deluge," offered Virgil.

"Reminds me of so many tales about Selkies or mermaids," commented Sector. "Will I be allowed to take pictures?"

"You may, but just stay in the water, and again I remind you of the need for discretion in your use of those pictures. I've spent the past four decades trying to hide these people from the world and would not want my work undone carelessly."

"Of course. You have my assurances."

About two miles up the northern shore the boats came to a small bay nearly hidden by an island. There, the water was unusually clear, rather shallow, and sandy on the bottom. On the shore of the bay stood a row of seven tree-trunks placed into the sand in a slight arc, each painted with unknown symbols. A few humans were sitting about on the shore, and as the boats arrived, they stood and greeted the arrivals with the limp-wrist gesture. Looking down, the newcomers found the water full of fishmen, who stood up from the bottom to also greet the arrivals.

"I'll let you know what to do," said Tom, taking the boat to the edge of the water. "Just let me guide you through."

"You know what's going on," said Burns, still a little apprehensive at having convinced himself to go through with this. But as told before, it was only for one night, and then Melusine would be married off to her childhood fiancee and would start her life anew with her own kind. He reached up and fingered his necklace of snail shells.

Tom and Burns left the canoe as one of the Indian men, this one painted and feathered and decorated from head to toe, came forth and stood with them.

"The ceremony begins now," said Tom.

The shaman took Burns' hand and raised it into the air. A single drummer began to strike the large primitive drum postitioned between his feet. And then the shaman began to recite. After some time Melusine came out of the water wearing a crown of waterlilies and joined him, standing at his side with her hand curled around his.

The rest of the team watched from the boats, except for Sector who had gotten out into the waist-deep water and was unobtrusively taking pictures. Several fishwomen had gathered around and were touching him. He tried to ignore them, but their curiosity became somewhat distracting when the two boldest ones began to stroke his hair and beard.

The Delaneys noticed Sector's plight and only smiled. "That bright red hair and bald pate of his attracts them," came the explanation to Trakker. "To them, it looks like he's in breeding colors."

The ceremony continued, the shaman telling the story as it had been handed down from generations of ancestors. And eventually another fishwoman came from the water, Tom's wife Orchid in fact, and placed a crown of waterlilies on Burns' head.

"Congratulations. You're now a married man," whispered Tom.

"Do I kiss the?"

"Just hug her, and then go to the water with her."

He did, and beaming, Melusine pulled her man-of-land down the shore. After ducking herself, she presented him first to Empty Sky and her three brothers, and then to the rest of her kind. The gathered attendees applauded by striking the water with their hands. And then the pair waded out to the boats and Tom presented the couple to the guests in them. Alex waded over and snapped their picture together, the fishwomen following him.

"So now what happens?" asked Burns.

"Oh, just a private wedding night for you two. Her family will take you somewhere to be together. It's just for a night though."

"So I guess I'll be home in the morning," said Burns, blushing a little. So much for keeping his love life a secret from the rest of the team.

"Most likely," said Tom. "C'mon. We'll put you two in the canoe." He took Burns and Melusine by their hands and led him to the shore where his dugout waited. Around them the fishmen swam, croaking and smiling and seemingly wishing the pair well.

The three climbed in and Melusine's family took the boat away, pushing it out of the shallow bay. Burns waved a goodbye to the others and they all waved back.

Tom, not needing his paddle as the fishmen were propelling the boat, shuffled up behind Burns. The small craft was picking up speed as it entered the open water of the lake. "My dad told me I had to give you that little talk. You know...birds and bees. Or as we say here, 'what to do when it rains,' if you know what I mean."

Sector placed his camera up into the motorboat and went to flop himself over the edge as well, but two of the fishwomen held onto him. "Please ladies. You're not helping."

The Delaneys chuckled. "They're hoping you'll stay with them."

Sector blinked. "I'm flattered, but..."

"They like your red hair," said Mr. Delaney.

"I figured that. They can't seem to keep their hands out of it. Is it because I look like a curupira? That's what I usually get mistaken for in Amazonia."

"Actually, they think you're in breeding colors. They're thinking about...other things," explained Dr. Delaney, trying to be tactful.

"Oh," Sector said, somewhat surprised at the reason. "Well."

"So if you'd like to pursue your investigation of the fishfolk on, shall we say, a more personal level, these ladies are quite willing to assist,"

Sector looked quickly to Trakker, who was stifling a snicker. "Your choice. Might not get another opportunity like this again," he said, trying to keep his composure.

Sector looked again at the two fishwomen holding onto him, both smiling at him, both in breeding colors themselves. One wore the same rusty shades as Melusine, and the other had more of a greenish skintone with lurid blue markings. "Well, when in Rome..."

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The boats returned to the Lagoa Preta headquarters and the Red Sunset and the wedding guests all dispersed. Hayes and Trakker lingered at the stern to secure Sector's boat. Hayes sighed. "Always a bridesmaid...never a bride." He pretended to sob like a lonely woman with a rapidly ticking biological clock.

"There, there," said Trakker, patting him on the shoulder in mock sympathy. "Someday your monster will come and take you away from all this."

"Julio has Márcia. Cal has Melusine. Alex is off doing God knows what with two of those fishwomen. Scott and Maria are off with Dr. Delaney's grandchildren. What have we got?"

Trakker thought a moment. "The rest of Alex's bottle of gin? I know where he hid it."

"Good enough for me."

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At dawn Trakker again sat atop the observation deck staring out across the lake, sipping reheated coffee, found left in the pot from the previous night. The sky was gearing up for a glorious sunrise, a pink glow touching the undersides of the clouds in the east. And at some point he noticed a small disturbance in the water. Something was moving across the surface of the water toward the Red Sunset. As it came closer, he rose to look, and realized it was Alex, half-swimming, half being dragged by the two fishwomen he had left with the night before. Trakker tapped down the two sets of stairs to the stern deck.

Sector managed to grab onto the ladder and haul himself up to the deck. The two fishwomen followed, and Trakker greeted them with the gesture of the folded wrists. The two smiled and folded theirs in return, and then they embraced Sector affectionately and kissed him and dove back into the inky waters.

Sector caught onto one of the deck supports to hold himself up, and then began to stagger toward his cabin.

"You look like something the catfish dragged in," smirked Trakker.

"I feel like something the catfish ate and spat up. I'm exhausted. I'm water-logged. I hurt in a thousand places."

Trakker opened the door to Sector's cabin and they entered, Sector immediately slumping into a chair. And then he grinned. "One of the best nights of my life."

Trakker shook his head as he began to undo the buttons on Sector's sopping linen shirt. "Pervert," he teased. "We'll get you to bed and you can just sleep all day."

"I can't think of anything I'd like more right now." He weakly pulled his arms from the sleeves.

Trakker gasped as the shirt came off. "Alex, what did they do to you? Look at these marks! You've got more welts than a masochist at a torturers' convention." Burns had sported a number of similar scratches and red streaks from Melusine's claws, but Sector's torso was marked far worse, particularly on his back and shoulders.

"The ladies were rather enthusiastic," he said coolly. "You should have come with me."

"Get the rest of your clothes off and get into bed. I'm going to go find something to put on those. You look awful."

Trakker departed and went up to the salon where the first aid kit was attached to the wall. Opening it he soon found an antibiotic cream. "No more sleeping with the fish for you, old boy," he mused.

On returning to Sector's cabin, he found the man in bed, lying on his stomach, hurriedly writing in his notebook, sentence after sentence escaping from the pen.

"I found some antibiotic ointment," he said, taking a seat on the edge of the bed and breaking the seal on the tube.

Sector winced at the sting of the antiseptic effect of the ointment but kept writing as Trakker saw to the scratches. And then he closed the journal, pushed it aside, and put his head on the pillow. "I hope we're leaving today. I don't think I could survive another night with those women, but I don't think I could say no if they came looking for me."

Trakker chuckled. "I'm not sure if we are. Apparently Melusine's getting married again tonight. This time to her man-of-water. I'll have to find out what the proper protocol is from Dr. Delaney on if the man-of-land should be present or not."

Sector yawned. "Such a strange culture. I don't know of anywhere else in the world that has this sort of arrangement." His words trailed off as he closed his eyes. He rolled onto his back so Trakker could rub the antibiotic cream into the scratches on his chest.

Trakker soon finished up treating the wounds and then closed the cabin's curtains to block out the brilliant golden sunrise. Sector was already asleep and breathing heavily. He'd have Lopez check him over later to make sure none needed more serious attention.

"The things you do in the name of science," he whispered with a grin and left.

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Burns heard the whispers, the soft, gentle sounds of a man and a woman talking, whispers interspersed with snatches of songs he did not know. The visions were of swimming fish and fluttering fins, of waterlilies floating above him, of a single cream-colored bloom with a pink blush held in his hands. He felt as if he were being touched, as if fingers were pressing against his skin.

The water surrounding him was like warm air, and he could lie perfectly still for an eternity, peacefully watching the sunlight stream down through the branches and lily pads above him. Tiny fish and fat tadpoles darted through the water, either in schools or alone. And all the while there were voices, sweet and soft and comforting to hear.

And then he opened his eyes to find himself lying on the beach, He was exactly where he had eventually dragged himself out of the water to after exhausting himself with his bride. The whispers were gone and now he only heard the gentle swish of the wind in the trees and the calling of the birds. He smiled up at the sunshine before forcing himself to stand. His clothes were where he had left them hung over a bush. He dressed, and just as he was finishing doing up the buttons on his shirt Melusine came up from the water. Another man-of-water emerged from the lagoon behind her, this one a male of her own coloration. He was tall and handsome and as well muscled as she was, though his skin was somewhat darker than hers. The yellow membranes of his fins were edged in crimson. The eye-spots on his back and shoulders were filled in with the same red.

"Beetle-Guide!" Melusine smiled at him. And he paused. Had she actually spoken? Or had he imagined it?

He embraced Melusine and she pushed her lips to his, kissing him happily. And to his surprise the male embraced him and kissed him as well, just as Melusine had. Before he could react, they took his hands and led him down to the water.

After a couple of miles on the Lagoa Preta the Red Sunset came into view. The fishman stayed in the water but Burns and Melusine climbed aboard. For a while they stood together, Melusine holding tightly to her man-of-land, afraid to let go of him but knowing the moment could not last. After a while she went and lay in the live-well, and then went to his cabin and stood for a while studying his nest, touching his few things and stroking her hand over his bed.

Eventually she returned, dipping herself in the live-well again, and then embraced Burns one last time, holding him tightly and running her webbed hands over his body and through his cinnamon colored hair, trying desperately to impress everything about him indelibly into her memories. As the time for her to douse herself again approached, the male came up onto the boat and placed his hand on her shoulder.

Melusine kissed Burns one last time, the male standing behind her with his hands upon her waist. Then together the two creatures dove into the cloudy waters and swam away, Melusine giving her mate a parting glance before diving the final time beneath the river surface.

And suddenly he realized that the fishman with Melusine was to be her new husband, the man to whom she had been long ago betrothed. And he laughed to himself. How could these people live without jealousy? There had been none—only love for both his bride-to-be and the man she had married the night before.

"Goodbye my Beetle-Guide," came the whispers again, and again he wondered if he was hearing things or if once more he had simply imagined it.

Burns watched the surface of the great lagoon for a while and then staggered up to the galley, slumping down into one of the counter chairs. Hayes, having just recently come in to start breakfast, pushed a hot cup of coffee across the counter to him. "A good night?"

"It was." Burns sighed and swivelled the kitchen stool to look through the window and across the watery landscape. "It was all so strange, this whole experience here in the Amazon. At first I wanted to deny she existed, and then I wanted nothing to do with her. And now I think I'm going to miss her."

"Ever fall in love before?"

Startled by the question, Burns looked at Hayes warily. "I don't think I was in love with her."

"Maybe. Maybe not. Oh, hey," Hayes leaned conspiratorially on the counter. "Alex went home with two of those fishwomen last night, right after you and Melusine left. And it wasn't to go hunting for lizards."

Burns looked at him across the top of his coffee mug. "Really?"

"Really."

And then Burns smirked and took another sip. "I guess I'm not the only one around here with odd tastes in women."

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Chosen continues in Chapter 19: "Homecoming"

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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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