Pete was riding with him on Chauncey. On reaching land the mer-man had given what looked like a closed-mouth cough and water had poured through the slits in his ribs. After that he was an air breather just like the unChanged humans. As they flew Herzer pointed out the view from aloft including one of the vast schools of baitfish.
“Bait ball,” Pete replied, shielding his eyes against the westering sun. “Can we fly over it?”
Herzer banked towards the ball and got a bellowed comment from Joanna which he ignored. The school of fish was about fifty meters on a side, a silver ripple at the surface with the water churned to white around it from attacking fish.
“That’s menhaden I think,” Pete yelled. “But look at those damned tuna! That’s damned good eating there, especially with a little wasabi.”
Herzer could see the larger fish smashing into the bait fish like cannonballs. As he watched one of the larger predators came clear out of the water in its pursuit. It was hard to judge size without a reference, but the fish had to be close to two meters in length.
“We can’t really track the pelagics like that,” Pete said with annoyance in his voice. “They just move too fast. The delphinos can keep up, but whenever we try to get to them they’ve moved before we get there and chasing them’s a losing proposition.”
“Herzer!” Joanna bellowed, sweeping down on him. “We need to get these dragons fed, soon.”
“Coming, Commander,” the lieutenant replied, banking his dragon back towards the coast. But his mind kept moving on the problem. There had been enough food for a hundred dragons in that school of tuna alone. The reef-fish were all well and good, but getting into one of those big schools was going to be the way to keep them fed.
In deference to the mer-man, he made a water landing when they reached the fishing spot. It would mean loose straps on the ride back and much oiling to get them back in condition, but it had been undignified enough carrying Pete to the dragon; the least he could do was let him get off in relative comfort.
He loosed the straps holding the mer-man on and then donned his own gear and dove under the water. It had been a cold ride in nothing but his bathing suit and the water was not much better. He got the straps loose with one hand that was fumbling with cold and a hook, grabbed them and headed for shore, dragging the leather along with Pete’s help.
Once on shore he laid the straps out on the plentiful rocks and looked at the dragons disporting in the waves.
“They look like they’re having fun,” Pete said. He had dragged himself up partially on the shore and now leaned on one arm, looking out to sea and flapping his tail idly in the waves, like a person tapping their toes.
“They are,” Herzer said. “If I wasn’t so damned cold I’d be in there with them. I don’t know which is worse, the water or this damned cold wind.”
“We’re getting a fire started,” Jerry said, opening up the closures on his jacket. “You should have worn your gear.”
“I was planning on a water landing,” Herzer replied, wiping water out of his hair with his hands. “Better to be cold than wet gear. I could do with a hot bath, though.”
“No help there,” Pete said. “All these islands are limestone built up from coral; the nearest volcanic activity is nearly a thousand klicks from here.”
“Just as well,” Herzer said. “I’d rather be cold than have a tsunami.”
“I can think of a way to warm you up,” Bast said.
“I’m sure you can,” Herzer replied with a grin.
“But I’m going to go play with the dragons,” Bast said, reaching into the pouch at her hip and pulling out a breath mask and a set of fins.
“Where did those come from?” Herzer asked. He knew that Edmund only had four sets and they were all being used; he had his set rolled up and tucked into a pocket of his bathing shorts.
“My pouch?” Bast replied. “I was coming to the islands. I can’t breathe water. Of course I brought gear.” With that she dropped her gear, took her clothes off, put the mask on, picked up the fins and waded into the water.
“Can someone please explain who she is to me?” Jerry asked.
“She’s… Bast,” Herzer replied.
“That’s not much of an answer,” Vickie said acerbically. “She’s an elf? I thought they were, you know, tall and lean and handsome. Not small and pretty and dressed like a character in an anime cartoon.”
“She’s a wood elf,” Herzer replied. “They were created around the time of the AI wars. She was created around the time of the AI wars.”
“Crap,” Jerry said. “How old is she?”
“Physically? About two thousand years old,” Herzer replied. “Mentally? Somewhere between twelve and two thousand. She told me one time that elves are too happy to spend much time grieving. Given that she’s seen thousands of human friends die over the years, I guess that’s not a bad way to handle it. As to caring about societal conventions, like not stripping in front of a bunch of people, she’s going to outlive them all and their conventions. She just… well, you’ve seen. Hell, just wait; that’s nothing.”
“I can’t wait until she meets Bruce,” Pete chuckled.
“Why?”
“Bruce is… not a bad guy,” Pete said. “He’s held us together and nobody’s starved; not even the young and the old. Really, he’s done pretty well, given everything that’s going on. But… he can be a little… stuffy.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Edmund, trailed by Daneh and Rachel, followed the mer-folk deeper into the ocean and to the east. They stayed about seven meters below the surface while the bottom sloped steeply downward.
Half way to the “village” Jason let out a grunt and headed downward. He poked in a crevice with his spear, then twisted it and pulled out a lobster nearly the size of his thigh. He wrung the head off and dropped it to the bottom, swimming back up to the group and turning his catch over to one of the bearers.
“It’s been a bad day of fishing,” he lamented. “We’d been in this area not long ago and most of the easy fish are already hunted out. We’re having to go further and further afield to find anything edible.”
“Why don’t you just move someplace else?” Edmund asked.
“We’re not entirely without possessions,” Jason said. “So just picking up and moving is not an easy proposition; we only do it if it’s necessary. And this area has some features that we find necessary for our survival these days.”
“What?” Talbot asked. But he received no reply.
“I’ve got a net with me,” Edmund pointed out after he was sure the mer wasn’t going to answer.
“Wait to show it to Bruce,” Jason said. He turned to the landsman and pitched his voice lower. “You’re liable to find a cold reception; Bruce doesn’t care about anything but the Work.” The capital was clear.
“Repairing the reefs?” Edmund asked, looking around. They looked in fine shape to him. Billions of fish were swimming across them and sea-fans waved in every direction. “I’d think keeping his people fed would be his first job.”
“Mostly he agrees,” Jason admitted. “But he doesn’t want to have outsiders involved with us. He thinks that if we just lay low, the war will pass over us and we can just continue with the Work.”
“And what do you think?” Edmund asked.
There was a long pause before Jason shrugged.
“He’s the chosen leader of our people and it’s not my job to speak against him, certainly not to outsiders.”