Lower World

Preface: The novel's exotic setting

Humans have a better understanding of our distant moon and planets than of the depths of our oceans. Until the 1970s, we imagined the sea floor as flat, sandy, and uniform to the point of monotonous. Not in any way as varied and as magnificent as landscapes on Earth’s surface, In geological time landscapes are constantly changing with tectonic plates bumping over and under each other creating mountains and valleys. Yet, the ocean floor is not to be outdone. Earth’s volatile core emits hot viscous liquid, disrupting and displacing earth and rock, also creating mountains and valleys and giving birth to hydrothermal vents and cold seeps. With no energy from sunlight, scientists historically dismissed life as impossible. Instead, the deep teems with uncannily bizarre creatures. Microbes form the bottom of the food chain and derive their energy from chemical reactions in a process called chemosynthesis. With no natural light, most deep-sea creatures create their own, utilizing chemistry through a process called bioluminescence.

With no swim bladders holding air, deep-sea fish are buoyantly neutral. The biology of deep-sea life that withstands extreme pressures is not well understood. Specimens brought to the surface do not survive.

The tale you are about to read imagines that under the seafloor exists a civilization with intelligent human-like beings along with an abundant plant life including a kelp-like species called kelpine.

Tetrapeds are hairless with skin like the underbelly of a shark. They are slightly negative buoyant, and they move easily through their three-dimensional world.

Chapter 1

Landley punched the code for her sliding doorway and dragged herself inside. Feeling like a piece of drooping kelpine, she couldn’t wait to collapse on her chaise. When her arm and leg fins tingled a vague sense that something was wrong, she looked around cautiously. She could see all but Shell’s bedroom and the wasteroom in their tiny efficiency. Nothing unusual, but she was unable to ignore the uneasy feeling. Maybe her long shifts standing on her feet were getting to her. Her dream of a life change in the big city hadn't had a promising beginning.

Still on edge, she removed her throat filter, placed it in the automatic cleaner, and pushed Swirl. The lumen lamps glowed. She hadn’t turned them on, and Shell was nowhere in sight. Landley could see in the dark better than most, but her cavemate liked the light. The silence from the other side of Shell’s closed bedroom door bothered her. Just a quick peek, no need to wake her. Shell worked as hard as Landley, but never seemed to tire. The idea that Shell needed to rest sparked a bit of guilty pleasure.

Poking her head through the bedroom door, her vision of Shell napping vanished to funnel a piercing, rebounding scream. Blood pooling on Shell’s white chest mixed with the seawater to form crimson hanging puffs. Landley surged toward her and placed her head over Shell’s heart near an oozing puncture. All four fingers pressed the inside of Shell’s wrist for a pulse. Despite the lack of a single throb, Landley held her hand over the apparent knife wound and scanned the room for something to stem the blood. A blade of kelpine from the vase on the eekenstand beckoned. Now for the bottle of goo in the medicine cabinet. She spread the thick gelatinous stuff on the wound, covered it with the kelpine, and applied chest compressions. One hand on the wound to protect the seal, she whispered with each effort, Come on, come on. After twice the number of suggested thrusts failed to restart Shell’s heart, Landley drooped to a halt.

She caressed Shell's smooth head, but avoided her vacant eyes, then leaned back hovering for a moment. Shell, Shell, please don’t be gone. Her hand over her mouth, Landley swam to the blood-red handle outside the cave and pulled it. An automated voice responded. Please state the nature of your emergency. She mouthed, I found my cavemate stabbed. I’m afraid she’s . . . gone. A tetra voice broke in. We’ll be there in ten myks. Stay away from the victim. Landley began to give the address and then remembered the handles in Volcano City were designed to indicate location. In fact, the city had access codes.

She touched her throat. Without her filter in the unclean aqua, she hurried back inside. Devastated, she sat rocking on her sofa with crossed arms and chest folded into her lap.

The well-suited tiny apartment wrapped her in its arms. With a cavemate, she could just afford the rent and the high cost of filtering. She slept on the couch in the living area openly facing the kitchen and loved the arrangement. Her cavemate and this shelter formed a place of sanity away from a job Landley considered mind-torture. The question of taking over the lease swam through Landley’s mind, followed by guilt mingled with a sick feeling of loss.

She felt the vibration of the police torpedo before hearing the sonorous alarm. Somehow the sound triggered the finality of it all, and her tears added more salt to her watery environment. Sobbing, she opened the door to the two officers and a paramedic, who nosed into the cave.

I’m Chief Dorsal, the lean, knobby-kneed, older kom with a no-nonsense look announced, and my junior partner here is Lawson 176. He didn’t introduce the medic. And you are?

Landley.

Landley, who?

Landley 575.

OK, 575. Stay right here, and don’t touch anything until we’ve finished examining the body. He nodded toward Shell’s bedroom door. She in there? He didn’t wait for an answer before barging ahead. The medic entered, and Lawson followed, pausing to cast a sympathetic look and graze Landley’s shoulder with an arm fin.

She sat dully looking around. Shell must have made her favorite smoothie of red and brown microalgae. The dirty blender stood next to the dish swirler. Otherwise, everything seemed in order; little choice in a small space.

Finally, the koms emerged. The medic left to collect a gurney while Lawson shook his head, and all hope vanished. She managed to keep her fins stiff until the thin, pink stream trailing the body caused a wave of grief. Her spines tingled with weakness.

The officers returned, scanned the kitchen and living area before turning to her. We need your knives, Dorsal said. Our medic will test them in our torpedo lab while we finish your interview. He surveyed the clamped utensils. Are there only the two knives?

Landley nodded feeling this must be a shiverdream.

So, 575, your door was locked when you got home? Dorsal asked.

Yes. She hadn't processed the implications of the crime committed. Shell didn't stab herself.

You tried to stem the blood flow. Was she still alive? Dorsal continued.

I don’t know. I wanted her to be. She wondered if she should have gone to the alarm first.

I hope you called for help before your efforts, Dorsal said as if reading her thoughts. You should never— He scowled and shook his head before continuing. Did you find anything missing?

I didn’t look, but we don’t have much, and our furniture is here, Landley said, considering him a fool for thinking anyone would rob them. It would be like stealing the shell from a starving shrimp.

No rush, but if you could take a careful inventory in the next few deks, we’d appreciate it, Lawson said. His kind, serious face framed eyes filled with concern.

What’s more important is that you tell us what you know about your cavemate, Chief Dorsal said before peppering her with demands. We need her full name, contact information of friends and relatives, where she works, how long you’ve known her, and anyone you might know who might wish her harm.

Landley tried to keep track of all she was asked. I, uh . . .

Start anywhere you like. We’ll ask questions as you go, Lawson said.

She took a deep gulp and eased back the mouthful of aqua through her gills. I met Shell 312 when I answered her ad for a cavemate. I haven’t been here long, but I feel we’ve been friends since kinderschool. Her throat caught. I can’t imagine who could have done this. She shuddered. So concerned with reviving Shell, she hadn’t envisioned a murderer in the apartment. She calls her parents Momo and Popo like everyone else. Their names might be on her infothon. Want me to get it? She stood, remembering kicking Shell’s waistpack under her cot.

Dorsal nodded and Landley left. On her return, she froze in the doorway when she heard Lawson say, . . . could be devious but seems genuine to— He tipped his head and eyes to the left, and Dorsal turned toward her.

With a flash of fear that they suspected her, she searched Lawson’s unreadable face for suspicion. Of course, it’d be routine to consider all possibilities. They were just doing their jobs. Dorsal looked at her expectantly until she handed over Shell's infothon. If exhausted before, adrenalin drove her now.

Landley swallowed and began again. I don’t know of anyone who'd hurt Shell, but I’ve only met two coworkers, Angel and Phib something. Shell's a record keeper of some sort for Linophryne.

And where do you work? Lawson asked.

At Sole’s. I fill and wrap the solemades with narsi leaves.

I thought you looked familiar, Lawson said. I love those things. That mix of bladderlock, carrageen moss, and whatever else is so good. He paused. You work behind the counter, right?

She managed a wan smile with a nod of her head, thinking all dek long. Something about Lawson reassured her. Should I be worried? I thought violent crime was rare in Volcano City.

Murder is rare, Lawson said looking at Dorsal. The chief shrugged.

After Landley provided minimal information, Dorsal looked at the time. I think we have enough for now. Let us know if you think of anything else. If in doubt, contact us. Don’t assume anything is too small. He nodded at Lawson and arm fins pumping, swam-walked toward the door. Lawson trailed behind, paused before entering the hovering black torpedo, and watched Landley standing in the doorway.

Her eyes followed the closing of the winged doors and the torpedo’s final carriage of Shell from her home. Frozen, she peered up and down the narrow channel that wound between the winding rows of caves. The dark shadows between the glow lanterns suddenly looked menacing, and she jerked herself inside.

Chapter 2

Landley passed the next few deks as if her brain were bathed in squid ink. Her grief-induced numbness made her feel as if a different maker of solemades inhabited her body. When an interesting incident broke through to her consciousness, the urge to tell Shell engendered the pain of its impossibility.

Signing the necessary new lease provided little relief. The inventory Chief Dorsal ordered required attention and proved time-consuming. She'd look around Shell’s room, start to go through her waistpack, shake her head, put it down, and go check a kitchen drawer. She’d pick up her infothon to call Momo and decide she couldn’t bear to relate the tragedy. Abandoning it all, she’d brew a cup of tara and sit staring into space.

Nothing turned up missing. Shell’s significant belongings were a rock vase, a stone necklace, a seaweed bracelet, and two weird tangled headpieces. Since going through Shell’s waistpack felt wrong, Landley left the onerous task for last. Dorsal and Lawson had already gone through it and confiscated Shell’s infothon. She wondered whether the officers had noticed some embossed kelpine leaflets stuffed inside a pocket of her waistpack. They seemed related to the meetings Shell attended at Volcano University on Breakdeks. Despite the instruction about nothing being too small to report, Landley let it go.

Besides a waistpack and personal grooming paraphernalia, Landley had a matching set of carved rock adornments her momo had given her. If only she had an occasion to wear them. These treasures were still attached to the clamps under the chaise. The kitchen necessities, small tools, a first-aid kit, and sundry items were in place. Had they been stolen, she couldn’t afford the replacement cost.

She had wistfully clamped ads for a new cavemate to community bulletin boards but bypassed posting on costly infothon sites. Good cave shares were popular, and Shell’s place was located well, so the hardship of paying the whole rent shouldn’t last long. In fact, it couldn’t. Despite a job a mindless robot could do, it'd be ashes to go back to Plains and live with her parents.

***

Lawson felt compelled to check on Landley and understood the feeling went beyond concern.

Oh, you’re the detective, she said, sounding surprised when she answered her door.

Yes, Lawson 176. I thought I'd stop to see if you've finished your inventory and save you a trip.

Yes. I’m sorry I haven’t had a chance to notify you. Nothing's missing.

Good. He paused. How're you doing?

I’m managing, she said. It hurt to compose an ad for a new cavemate. It feels I’m deserting Shell. It’s so unfair. She was wonderful, so good to me. Landley’s mouth turned down.

A wonderful kem wouldn’t blame you. It’s not as if you have any choice.

I guess. I don’t look forward to living with someone new.

Lawson didn’t know what to say. He stared at her downturned head and shifted his feet.

I’m sorry. I shouldn’t burden you with my problems, she said. You must have better things to do.

I was on my way home from the station anyway. He tilted his head. You’ve had a major shock, and I wanted to make sure you were all right. Um . . . if you don’t feel safe going back and forth to work, I can go with you.

She hesitated. I'm fine, but thanks. I appreciate it. Her eyes appeared to question him.

If you change your mind, let me know. Is it okay if I check on you again? He backed away from her door.

No. She shook her head with a smile that could warm an entire cave.

He walked home musing about their brief visit, not understanding why she attracted him so much. It was more than her appealing looks¬—those adorable cheeks—he felt the urge to take care of her. Her cavemate’s senseless killing offended his sense of justice, and Landley’s pain added to that injustice. He had to make it right.

***

Landley hadn't been afraid to be alone—too much to do and too little time for fear or so she thought. The next eeken on her way home, a fleeting male figure surged around a corner into her channel. His speed jangled her nerves, and she chided herself for thinking she was fine. She waited several myks before advancing. Her eyes scanned in all directions before swimming up and over while watching for anyone below her. After an eternity, her door appeared within reach, and her body shot toward it like a dart from a dart gun. Her hand shook while she entered her code. Once inside, her trembling subsided. I’m being a jellyfish. Yet, she reconsidered Lawson's offer. In the end, she talked herself down from her irrational fear by reminding herself she wasn’t important enough to have enemies.

The long to-do list involved considerable effort. Her grief sapped her energy, and she had to counteract her momo’s model of collapsing after work. Momo moved as slowly as a rock in a mild current. She'd say, It’s a sin not to do yer best at work, but it don’t hurt to cheat yerself a little at home. With her grief and mind-numbing job, young Landley’s worst fear was falling into her momo’s pattern of listlessness and destroying her vision of a better life.

The dissolution service in Shell’s hometown was too far away to attend, but she met the parents when they traveled to V.C. to collect their daughter's things. If only they'd stayed longer and shared stories about Shell's childhood. When they left, another door closed.

Salvation from her pity mood arrived stuck in her doorframe—an invitation from Angel, Shell's work friend, to attend a recognition-of-life event at Linophryne. Sole’s gave her grief about leaving work early and docked her pay for the entire work shift, but she didn’t care. Her employer reminded her—as her momo was wont to do—she was lucky to have a job. Landley questioned many things about which lowers had no choice but had learned to keep her opinions to herself. Her tongue felt like it had permanent bite marks. Every time she saw the national motto, Know your place, on public buildings, she cringed.

Landley sighed and arranged her matching headpiece and necklace, brushed off her fins, and left Sole’s feeling anxious about fitting in. The idea of sharing her pain with Shell’s friends, Angel and Phib, bolstered her. They of all perkone should understand her feelings.

She arrived at the impressive mountain-shaped building ten myks before the ceremony and found a seat in the last row. The commons room loomed cavernous with high ceilings and many nooks, all colored cave-gray. Someone, who must have been Shell’s boss, stepped to the podium. Shell 312 was a diligent employee, he began. She never missed a dek of work and did her job quite adequately. Such employees are the ones we value here at Linophryne. We hope it won’t take long to find a replacement. He spoke crisply and kept any emotion in check.

Landley couldn’t fathom anyone from Sole's saying anything positive about her work, and she knew she did a good job. A secretary spoke a few words about how Shell always cleaned her tara cup with a hearty swirl after each use. Even the boss’s boss expressed positive sentiments. Of course, lowers never received the same kind of acclamations due to uppers.

Each coworker uttered similar bittersweet remarks. Angel and Phib spoke toward the end. Angel, her large eyes brimming blue, talked about Shell’s vibrancy and her sense of humor.

Phib reiterated Angel’s sentiments and told his favorite example of Shell’s wit. A beautiful, empty-headed kem once told Shell she’d rather have beauty than brains, because the average kom could see better than he could think. Shell retorted ‘That assumes you’re ready to settle for the average kom.’ Phib laughed alone. Recognizing Shell's wit, Landley smiled.

Phib’s bright, mischievous eyes scanned the room. Shell’s cavemate is here. Landley, would you like to say something? The negative shake of her head loosened the headpiece and her whole body luminesced blue and green in embarrassment. She had never addressed a large group, let alone one with so many complete strangers.

Light refreshments followed the service including red shrimp and zooplankton surrounded by narsi leaves on plates so shiny the surfaces didn't look as if they were tacky enough to hold the food on the plate. She couldn't help but test that the surface indeed had the feel of the usual coating, probably extra expensive. Laughter as at a cocktail party punctuated conversations from groups of two and three perkone.

Shell’s boss’s boss, Kimon Evor, came up behind Landley at the buffet and introduced himself. Without a single pleasantry, the kom with dark brooding eyes who looked like a tetra accustomed to having his way, asked, Are you a good reader?

Odd question, Landley thought, but she replied, It was my best subject in school. My momo complained about how much I liked to read. She hadn’t answered the question, but she had been taught not to boast. Momo didn’t see any point in learning what one would never use and always preached that you had to go to an upper school to get a job that needed reading. Landley challenged her momo with Why, when I can read? Momo’s Cuz that’s the way it is, only convinced Landley to stop asking. She played at being a teacher, which she defended by claiming it was all right to pretend. Momo would frown, but let her be.

Are you interested in Shell’s job? Kimon asked, startling her drifted mind. It took a tik for her brain to hear the echo of his words.

I don’t know what she did.

Oh, no special skills are required beyond reading and button pushing. I see you have an infothon. If you can use that, you’re good. We train our employees, and you seem like our type. He grabbed her infothon, which was peeking out of her waistpack, and entered his contact code. Think about it, but not too long. Message delivered, he made his way across the room to Shell’s immediate boss.

Thanks, she murmured after him. She had assumed she’d be invisible in the crowd, but first Phib and now a high and mighty had called for her attention. Dismissing his offer as insincere, she scuttled to join Angel and Phib. They hugged, and all three began to cry. Conversations paused and puzzled sideways glances at the trio failed to make them stop.

Let's get out of here, Angel said. We can go to my place.

Sounds great, Phib said.

Taken aback, Landley hesitated, uncertain the invitation included her.

Landley? Angel said.

She nodded and turned to discover Lawson stood in the back of the room. She wondered why he came as he approached.

Hi. I thought there’d be an off chance I’d learn something, he said, answering her unspoken question. Any of you see anyone out of place?

Angel and Phib shook their heads. You're thinking of everything, Landley said wishing she could express how much that meant to her.

It’s my job. I hope the service helped.

She didn’t know how to respond.

Take it one dek at a time, he said, his eyes holding Landley’s.

She smiled as she turned to leave and not paying attention bumped into someone. The kom’s eyes luminesced black startling her. She’d never seen anyone’s eyes luminesce before.

Chapter 3

After Angel and Phib began to quarrel at Angel’s modernly furnished quarters, Landley felt as out of place as a mudfish at an upper banquet and left. Feeling the need to pamper herself, she loitered on the way home and admired the wares of a gigantic kitchen store she and Shell loved. Tumblers and More displayed drinking cups and glasses in all kinds of amusing shapes and colors. Health-minded tetras used lidded containers with built-in straws not trusting the aqua not to contaminate beverages. They were the latest thing, but Landley thought more particles got through her mouth filter than mixed with what she drank. That’s what her popo said. He should know. He worked at a factory that ground tubeworm chitins for thickening every liquid that tetras consumed. Still she admired the fun containers. Soon they’d be wrapping food in peel-as-you-eat packaging. She strolled by Tubeworms To Go, Cuppa Tara Shoppe, and Hot and Cold Spa Treatments but sped up and over Venom Pit—a drug den—and the bars, Lanternfish and Anglers. Without Shell at her side, the murky area, smelling of alcohol and drugs, felt sadder and tawdrier. The urge to escape the area overwhelmed her, and she rued she couldn't afford to ride one of the public torpedoes motoring overhead.

Landley’s home, no longer feeling like a haven, yawned with emptiness. She missed Shell’s lively sense of humor, described perfectly by Angel and Phib. Even now, she smiled at Shell’s imitations of pretentious perkone at work or at Volcano University and her sassy suggestions for retorts Landley could make to her boss’s complaints. None she dared utter, of course, but the imagining soothed the hurt.

It occurred to her that at some level she didn’t know her friend. She'd have discovered the deeper things over time, like Shell's beliefs about Coel. Most young tetrapeds attended special religious events and believed in Coel's power but did not listen to the broadcast message-of-the-dek on FreeVision. They were too busy earning livings and practicing social lives. The elders understood and tolerated it among the young, at least until they were bonded. As soon as religious messages could be accessed via infothon, it was easy to claim participation. They got by since the messaging rarely included anything new. Landley used to watch services with Momo, but after acquiring an infothon she often ignored the signals for spiritual messages despite understanding the need to pay respect to Coelacanth to get along in the world.

She continued to reminisce about her times with Shell as she brushed her teeth and cleaned her filter before bed. Her musing led to a dream where she and Shell were laughing when the scene flashed to Shell becoming desperate to give her a message, but someone or something kept interrupting. The realistic dream so disturbed her that the next dek, it replayed in her mind for the entire work shift, oddly spiking her energy. Even after interviewing three prospective cavemates she felt like cleaning the film from the outside of her front door.

After considering each applicant, she chose the one who most reminded her of Shell and sealed the arrangement via infothon. The accomplishment offered a measure of satisfaction, but that eeken the same dream spooked her. It belonged to the category of paralysis-under-attack-by-viperfish. In this version she sought Shell’s message, but first she had to wrap twelve solemades; then her momo had to see her; then Shell had to enter a column of numbers into another column; and on it frustratingly churned. The distress lasted after waking, making her think Shell could be calling her from the great beyond. Was it even possible that Shell was trying to reveal her killer? The idea haunted her.

***

Lawson struggled to stop thinking about Landley. He needed to concentrate on his job. On a whim he stopped at Sole’s after work and spotted her working behind a counter. He waited for her attention and then waved. She looked startled, and when he motioned for her to join him, she made a horrific face while shaking her head no. He pointed at clock on the wall. He smiled and nodded when she held up seven fingers.

When Lawson reappeared at exactly seven, Landley stroked out of the cramped kitchen. You came back. She glowed a soft gold.

You doubted it? I’m off duty, but I feel it’s part of my responsibility to check on you. He lied about the last part in case he’d misinterpreted her interest. You look better than when I saw you last.

I am. I miss Shell, but she was so lively, she made me feel like a slug. Now, it’s as if she willed me her zest.

Really? he said, bemused.

Yes, really. I never thought of it that way until now. I guess a part of her is still with me. She nodded while blue tears made their way to the corners of her eyes. "Sorry, I’m burbling. How are you doing? They were standing near the line of fidgeting customers when Landley tilted her head toward the kitchen, and he saw her boss glowering at them. We’d better go outside," she said.

I’m good, he said once they were away from the elaborate entrance with a giant, copper solemades-shaped sign sporting Sole’s in black letters. I wish I could say the investigation was going well. Everyone we’ve contacted liked her, and her parents described her as popular. Landley followed him without asking where they were going.

Hard to work without suspects.

Very. He wondered about her reaction if she knew Dorsal was eager to close the case. The pressure came from on high. No, he knew what she’d think. She’d be even more upset than he was. In fact, Dorsal thinks I should consider the possibility of a botched burglary.

She looked shocked if not angry. Did you tell him nothing was missing?

Yes, but he said ‘botched’ as in: you came home while the robber was still there, he hid, and escaped while you were in Shell’s bedroom. He understood how implausible this sounded and almost gagged on his words.

What? That’s not possible. He saw my place. There’s nowhere to hide except the wasteroom, which was empty when I removed my mouth filter. Her face displayed incredulity and genuine anger.

Once it’s deemed a botched burglary, there’s no further investigation, he said. The station doesn't have enough resources to fish for burglars unless an upper is the victim.

Landley stopped dead still, and Lawson realized his mistake.

"Don’t worry, I’m not giving up. He formed a fist with his right hand and tapped it into the open palm of his left, a habit from childhood. One of the reasons I chose to be a cop is my obsession with justice. He stared off into space. I’d quit before signing off on a ridiculously concocted report.

Would you really think of quitting?

I know it’s probably crazy.

Well, I’m impressed. She touched his shoulder and gave him a look to match her comment.

I’m sorry I didn’t mean to get into this. I didn’t see you to upset you by dumping on you. Let’s talk about something else. He changed his tone. How about finning around the Ring of Chimneys?

I’d love it. I’ve heard so much about it, but I’ve never been there. Her reaction delighted Lawson and he kicked himself for not asking sooner.

The two young adults swam to the chimneys and stroked along the base of the tallest lava eruptions in Pelagia. At the tallest chimney, Landley insisted on swimming to its top to feast her eyes on the astounding view. Her hometown's claim to fame was its location halfway between Volcano City and Andover—a way station planted on flat boring land with a single seamount barely visible in the distance. Here, so close to V.C.’s boundary, the solid monumental rock formations inspired a sense of peace. Each inactive chimney had a unique shape. Some looked like elongated pieces of seaweed with delicate branches, and others looked like giant tubeworms. The most beautiful ones were striated with various colors— chitin white, aquamarine, muddy blue, copper, sulfur, and dirt brown. They created a virtual forest where families brought their offspring on Breakdeks and the young ones delighted in rushing and hiding behind the magnificent structures. The chimneys had existed since the dawn of time, and visitors took comfort in the continuation of their majestic presence for generations.

They attended to the soft current flowing against their movements and caressing their souls. Few public glow lanterns lit this area outside of V.C. proper, but Linophryne’s lamps shone not far away. The dim light exuded a romantic quietude, which distracted them from the cares of the world and added to the growing connection between them.

Lawson took her hand at the park’s boundary with the intention of swimming her home. Still under the spell of the stately park, they took their time and avoided earlier topics.

Shouldn’t we turn here? Lawson asked, breaking the spell of their reverent journey.

Yes, it’s not far now. When they arrived at her door, she turned to him. Thank you, she said softly. The Ring of Chimneys, she said shaking her head in wonder, I had no idea. She hesitated. I’d like to invite you in, but I’ve not been sleeping well since . . .

No problem, but I’d like to see you again.

When Landley nodded, Lawson took her chin and kissed her—just long enough.

He smiled all the way home, laid back on his cot savoring the eeken, and didn’t even think about sleeping.

***

When the familiar shiverdream began this time, Landley’s subconscious recognized it. Her dream-self screamed at Shell, Leave me alone or spit it out, unfortunately to no avail.

She woke later than usual for work. Her momo cautioned her to be early—always. Shoving in her mouth filter, skipping her tooth brushing, body wash, and breakfast, she headed out the door buckling her waistpack. Should be just enough time, if she hurried. She relaxed into a steady breaststroke.

She made the last channel turn to find an old kem on her knees in the middle of a coughing fit. Holding her throat, she looked up desperately at Landley, who stopped. What’s wrong? The kem opened her mouth and Landley cringed to see the edges of a dilapidated mouth filter around an incredible amount of built-up crud. You need to replace your mouth filter. When the kem shook her head sadly, Landley rooted through her waistpack for her spare. She had never heard anyone cough so hard. Before she could hand the kem the fresh mouth filter she blacked out. Landley instinctively stretched her out, reached into her mouth, and dislodged the filthy filter. She wasted no time in fitting the fresh filter and beginning chest thrusts. She couldn’t believe it when the kem coughed. Only twice. Her head lolled from side to side. Landley was relieved to see two koms rushing toward them.

What happened? Can we help? one kom said.

I found her coughing her gills out. She pointed at the old filter. I replaced that after she fainted. I think she should go to the hospital, but I don’t know how to get her there. I was going to look for a red handle.

The old kem stirred. Not going to no hospital.

The two koms leaned over her and helped her up. Landley thought she did look better, but felt there was no way of being certain.

One of the koms addressed the kem. My name is Carver. My friend, Jukon, and I were going for something to eat. Would you care to join us? Our treat.

The kem stared at them in disbelief but nodded.

Jukon whispered to Landley. We’ll take care of this. You’ve done your part."

She didn’t know if she was more grateful for them finding an excuse to monitor the poor kem or being able to get on with her workdek. I don’t know how to thank you.

"Your face says it all. Have a good rest of your