Fathom (Mermaids of Montana #3) - Elsa Jade Page 0,30
“This cooling conduit services the gel storage. You’ll need the gill again.”
When she opened her mouth to press the point of who exactly was going back to Tritona, he plucked the gill from her slack hand and popped it between her teeth. Did his fingertips linger for just a moment against her lips?
Before she could really wonder, he deftly wrapped her in the tow rope and pulled her close. He positioned them inside an airlock—a water lock, actually—that flooded around them before opening another access door that whisked them upward with a speed even more terrifying than their initial descent.
She was still blinking away the breathlessness of their rapid ascent when Sting detached her and strode toward a long bank of what looked like glass-fronted drawers. He held his datpad to controls beside the first drawer but it beeped back a sound that must be universal for “your account is overdrawn”. With one of those hard grunts, he moved down to the next drawer and it gave the same reply.
“Too much of the gel’s higher functioning has been lost over the centuries,” he reported. “There’s enough to maintain the ship’s basic functioning, but if I take too much it could destabilize.” He pivoted slowly, scanning the drawers from a distance before choosing another.
After a quick glance out the concave wall of windows that framed a vertigo-inducing view of the wheel—were data gels sentient enough to appreciate a view?—she followed behind him. “We need just enough for the Diatom to culture its own gel, right?” When he turned a surprised white stare on her, she tutted. “I did the assigned readings,” she reminded him. “Might not know exactly how it works, but it’s not that different from a sourdough starter or kombucha mother.”
He cocked his head. “Sourdough? Kombucha?”
“Earther foods.” She gave him a quick smile. “Maybe I could give you some reading.”
“I would eat or read whatever you gave me.” He turned back to the drawers. “Help me find one lively enough to share with us.”
She blinked again in even more confusion. “How can I help? Doesn’t your datpad interface with the ship system to find what you need?”
“Mine isn’t calibrated for the fine energy of the gel. Use yours.”
“My what? I don’t have a datpad.”
“Your own power.”
A little zing having nothing to do with her zaps went through her. “Power?”
“Your energy is a living thing, more like the data gel than my unit.” He twisted his wrist and flicked a gesture toward the drawers. “Find the one that’s still alive. Call to it as you called the seahorses.”
“I failed at that,” she reminded him.
“Don’t fail at this or I won’t be able to leave.”
She wrapped her arms around her belly, though she could scarcely feel the embrace through the already tight hug of the e-suit. “What if I hurt it,” she whispered. “Or even kill it?”
“Then I won’t be able to leave.”
She dropped her hands to her side with a glare. “You aren’t giving me a lot of choices here. And if I ruin it, I could kill the whole ship.”
“We won’t take more than it can spare,” he said. “If we can find anything of what we need.”
When in her life had she ever found what she needed? But back then, she hadn’t known she possessed this strange power. So maybe…
She closed her eyes, trying to remember how it felt to reach out to the seahorses. She’d had her palm flat on Sting’s bare chest, felt the silent timpani roll through her veins as he’d showed her how to sound her summons.
Reaching out, she put her hand on the controls of the drawer he’d rejected. Even with her eyes closed, his presence loomed over her, and she imagined his body in her signal like a black hole. Without opening her eyes, she angled her chin toward him. “Step back,” she murmured. “You’re sucking up my signal.”
He made some sort of noise she couldn’t decipher, but the interference of his presence diminished. Not gone, though. He’d have to be in another zip code at least for her to be unaware of him. And once he’d left Earth forever…
That was the point of all this, wasn’t it?
On the static and darkness that was the back of her closed eyelids, flickers of hazy light emerged. From her entry-level reading about spaceships, she imagined it was like seeing the electrical systems of the Atlantyri, basically the nervous system of a body. The lights brightened as she contemplated them, and she could almost imagine