Sea Changes by Liorah Greene

Allan was of two minds about this; on the one hand he knew that ocs were really expensive, about as much as a recent-model

It was hard enough standing out from the majority of students because of his reptilian baldness and golden-yellow eyes, not to mention the scaly texture of his patterned black and white skin, but his parents weren’t nearly as well off as the majority of adults in his neighborhood, since both his mother and father had somewhat prestigious but poorly-compensated tenure as department heads at

So Allan’s clothes were never quite as up to date as the other kids, and his dependence on old-fashioned virtual-reality glasses in school, while most of the other kids just interfaced directly with the school network for lessons and multimedia demonstrations, and played the latest full-motion ultrareality vids and games in their free time, really marked him as an incipient fug in any case.

Oh, well, he thought to himself as he twitched his left nictitating membrane to turn off his alarm, at least today’s the first day of summer break. He could worry about fitting in two months from now, when he entered high school. Bach faded gradually into silence, to be replaced almost instantly by the voice of his mother over the house net.

“Allan? Remember we have to be ready early if we’re going to catch the

Allan keyed his BioLync by flaring his nostrils, “Sorry, Mom, I was just daydreaming a little. I’ll be right down.”

“G’morning, Mom. Hi, Dad, Sis,” he called as he thumped down the stairs and into the hall, where everyone was looking at him as he came through the archway, obviously ready and waiting for his slightly tardy arrival.

His sister, Leana, tossed her head at him and flicked her tail, as she preferred to be addressed by her name nowadays, as being more ‘mature’ for a young lady of seventeen just finished with her junior year at Boethius Arts High School. The look implied that Allan was far too childish to realize this.

She was wrong, of course, as he was just old enough to realize that his sister was becoming a beautiful young woman, in contrast to his own gangly pre-pubescence, and used her girlish nickname only to annoy her. She’d gone through her Chimeric mutations just the previous year, gaining additional mental powers in addition to those inherited from her parents, but was otherwise unchanged, retaining the golden blonde hair and tawny green lion eyes passed down from her mother, Eileen. Unlike cat

His father, Professor Simon Armstrong — Allan thought that he never stopped looking like he was lecturing in front of a class, always neatly dressed in ‘appropriate academic attire’ and eyes oddly unfocused, as if he was consulting mental records before each utterance — couldn’t have contrasted more, with no hair at all, and golden yellow eyes with the same vertical slit as Allan’s own. His skin tone was black with a white diamond pattern, mottled slightly at the edges of each scale, also the same as Allan’s, and the odd shape of his jaw betrayed the snake-like double structure.

Like father, like son, Allan thought to himself, pleased because he thought his father was the perfect figure of a man, lithe and powerful and dangerous, just like Crotalus, the rattlesnake/human Chimera and action hero on the

“Well, son, are you ready for Florida?” His father smiled as Allan set down his bags. “We’ve plenty of time, actually, since the car doesn’t leave until ten, but it never hurts to beat the rush.” His father had a bit of a lisp, which Allan hardly noticed anymore, since he had the same sharp teeth and jaw structure and shared his father’s speech patterns.

His mother chuffed and flicked her tail, since it was her often implied opinion that his father was just a little obsessive about timeliness, but then smiled to show she didn’t think the worse of him. With her large carnivorous teeth, the smile would have been less than reassuring if Allan hadn’t known his mother’s facial expressions very well.

His father continued, seemingly oblivious to his mother’s wordless comment, but Allan knew from long experience that his father never missed anything. “I imagine there’ll be quite a lot to do for the

As they entered, the flivver said, “Good morning, sir, ma’am. Can I be of any special service?”

“No, thank you,” his father said, “just take us to the subway station. We have a reservation.”

“Right away, sir.” The flivver moved slowly out to the roadway and then picked up speed as it connected with the positioning and navigation chips beneath the surface.

Allan always enjoyed taxi rides, and they were quite a treat as the usual mode of transportation in Campanella in 2176 was by way of the many wooded footpaths or by bicycle on the bike lanes that paralleled the paths. Many people had a private flivver, but most reserved it for trips into the countryside or for special occasions. The city roadway charges were prohibitive for daily use, but many people still liked the idea of owning something unique to themselves, rather than relying entirely on public or shared transportation.

The tourists, of course, had their enormous tour buses, but they mostly stayed on the

So he looked out the open window as the flivver silently drove itself into the center of town. Most of the buildings around them were integrated with the architecture and landscape of the city itself, since the community had been planned and engineered for almost two centuries, so it looked not so much like the ancient sprawling cities, with their warrens and random building styles, as it did an opera set, with every vista, every arc and angle calculated to convey the idea that this was a safe and controlled oasis in a wild world, the perfect exemplar of a modern city built by and for a new and more enlightened humanity.

Kids were out and about in large numbers, because of the summer recess, and quite a few adults as well, because the contract

The subway station was a triumph of architectural understatement, at once easily distinguished and simultaneously trying hard to let the surrounding mountains take center stage, its modest gullwing roofline mirroring in intaglio the bold ridgelines of the enormous blue-gray massifs which cradled their city. The taxi pulled up to the entry and activated its transfer system to route their bags to the local

The station was packed with other families headed out into the world but surprisingly orderly, since their luggage had vanished into the service corridors, along with the carriers, within seconds of their arrival, and everyone else’s luggage and packages had been taken care of with equal dispatch. So the hundreds of people visible in the station were strolling casually toward their respective destinations, guided by the whisper of BioLync voices in their cochs, the direction indicators on their wrist units for the technically challenged, or ocularly-inserted

They took a slideway down to the platform level, and stood in the waiting room as a loose group. They had twenty minutes to wait. Allan started looking at the informational displays on the wall, which explained how the subways had been created almost fifty years ago, and extolled the fire and earth

Allan had studied this in his Civics class, of course, but liked to keep his mind busy, unlike most of the kids around him, who would instantly pull out their game controllers and lose themselves in virtual reality when the dismissal bell rang.

He pulled up the schedule on his BioLync, and verified that the trip would take about three hours with an average speed of more than 600 miles an hour. They’d be at the new

Allan supposed that there were fish in the lake; the committee that ran most of the ‘attractions’ in town would have seen to that, for the tourists, but it was a matter of honor among the native townies to avoid the lake, the artificial ski slopes, the equally-artificial bobsleigh courses, and all the rest of the carefully-planned recreational facilities made available to the happy sightseers in order to painlessly separate them from their credits.

A soft chime announced the arrival of their car, and flashing panels on the wall where the entry-doors were still shut showed where they should enter. Just then the doors opened with a whoosh and the waiting passengers surged forward, his mother gathering in her two children to make sure they didn’t stray off as they stepped on board.

“Come along, Allan, Leana, let me help you with your safety harnesses.” His mother spoke, but his father joined right in with the parental fussing both of them were prone to. It wasn’t as if Allan didn’t know how the harnesses worked, and the last subway accident had been before Allan was born, an eternity, so the system as a whole was safer than getting out of bed.

Leana took all this in stride, of course, since she was almost all grown up and liked to demonstrate her innate superiority to her brother by acting like an adult at the drop of a hat. She sat down with a regal air and allowed her mom to buckle her in as if servants always helped her with the tedious details of dressing. Allan fidgeted while his father did the same, complaining that he could do it himself if only people would let him. Leana sniffed and mouthed the words, ‘We are not amused,’ with a wink.

“Are you all set?” his father asked, peering at them inscrutably. “Did you bring something to view?” This last question was a little silly, Allan thought, since their BioLyncs could access anything available anywhere on the net, but the interface was a little hokey without a keyboard, and that was packed into his bags. So Allan figured his father had been asking about something pre-selected and loaded into his readybox. Hardly anyone actually looked at physical objects anymore, unless they were scholars who had access to ancient objects like clay tablets or paper books. So he nodded and leaned back, waiting for the car to launch.

Soon enough, they were pushed back in their seats by rapid acceleration, and there was a momentary ‘fwuuuhpp’ as the car went through the lock and fell into near vacuum. The subway authority thoughtfully provided a wholly imaginary

He pulled out his VR glasses, so he could look at the map of AquaWorld he’d downloaded from their website, taking a virtual tour as he listened to his music. When they got off the subway and took the old-fashioned elevator to the hotel, one of the many park entrances would be just off the upper lobby. The exhibit he most wanted to see wasn’t far from the hotel, a short slidewalk hop to the southeast. He programmed the path into his BioLync, just in case his parents let him take off on his own, and began looking for other things to see. Definitely the beach, although that was almost a mile away, just outside

“Leana!” he whispered. Both of his parents were reading, he could tell from the angle of their heads in their seats on the aisle. His father was actually reading a rare cloth-covered book, but Allan wasn’t really surprised, since that was just the sort of crazy stuff that Classics professors occupied themselves with in their spare time.

“Could you help me work on Mom and Dad to let us go over to one of the exhibits while they check in and fool around with grownup stuff?” Because she was older, Allan knew that he’d have a better chance of getting away from the immediate vicinity of his parents if he was ‘tagging along’ than if he simply asked.

“The Orca Circus. They’re supposed to have five huge whales that jump into the air and stuff. I’ve seen them in vids but it would just be incredible to see one up close!” Allan was trying to sound reasonable and persuasive, but his excitement and anticipation was making him a little breathless.

She chuffed quietly, with the beginning of her toothy smile pulling up one lip. “Sure. Sounds like fun. I’ll figure it out. Now be quiet and let me read. My wretched biology teacher gave us all homework to do over the summer break, if you can believe it!” This time she chuffed loudly, and his mother glanced up at them.

The purely human man across the aisle hastily decided to look at the ‘window’ on his side of the car.

Chapter Two — The Greatest Show on Earth

And if Leana could have rolled her eyes, she would have. “And you could tell all that from a few ticks of observation? Where’s your deerstalker hat and Inverness cape?” She knew that Allan was a huge admirer of the old Sherlock Holmes stories, and would be flattered. He was.

They walked over toward the center of the path, where the broad slidewalk was indicated by its yellow color, and positioned themselves carefully before the piezoelectric fibers of the walk recognized the direction indicated by their feet and began accelerating them toward their destination, moving them toward the center of the walk as it did so, to minimize the disruptions in traffic flow caused by people entering or leaving the walk. The onboard AI would recognize any intrusion and either speed them up or slow them down to avoid a collision. It already had a good idea about where they were going because Allan had activated the path he’d entered into his BioLync on the subway, but could quickly adapt to changes of plan indicated by body language. He was enjoying himself as the walk undulated beneath his feet like an upside-down caterpillar, just slightly bigger than his shoes, imparting a fine vibration that made his toes tickle because it was an older model, made before the widespread use of nanofibers made slidewalk surfaces almost indistinguishable from polished stone. You could actually see the fuzzy working surface. He laughed.

“This old slidewalk tickles,” he said, “and you know I hate it when you call me ‘Little Brother.’ ”

Caught out, Allan subsided into silence. Leana had been an absolute genius in persuading their parents to let them go off by themselves, hinting delicately that they might appreciate spending some time alone, since it was their first real vacation, and presenting their unsupervised trip into the park as a favor, rather than a special request. That was a really nice touch, he thought, I’ll have to remember it. He opened his rucksack to get at his bottle of water and took a swig before returning it to the pack. Besides the water, it held only a light windbreaker, in case it turned cool during the evening. He wasn’t as well protected from cold weather as his sister, having no hair, so he’d succumbed to paranoia and brought it along, despite the forecast of warm temperatures all night long. The idea of a

He looked around as they were swept toward the Orca Circus structure. Most of what he could see on this side of the park was evenly divided between rides and performances, two huge waterslides that seemed scandalously wasteful, although he supposed that their location near the ocean offered a ready source of salt water, and another show featuring trained seals. He was surprised to see so relatively few Chimes around, since they were fairly common back home, but then thought that the regional polyversity might bring in more than the average number, since it was designed to accommodate the special needs of both the born-altered and the newly-transformed. He’d probably be going there himself, eventually, since his parents could take advantage of the discount provided for the children of faculty.

He could see the entrance to the orca show just ahead, as the walk began moving them toward the edge and then shunted them onto the secondary slidewalk ramp that lifted them toward the arena and the seats. As they stepped off the walk he observed that they were still early, so there were only a few people sitting on the bleacher-style seats. The tank itself was huge, almost like a small lake, and they walked along the edge, peering into the depths, trying to catch a glimpse of the huge whales before the show began. They were nowhere to be seen, so Allan guessed that there was probably an underwater entrance to the tank somewhere, but had no clue where it might be.

He remembered that there was an aquarium nearby, and made a mental note to ask his sister if they could go there next, since the orca observation window had been advertised as one of its main attractions. He saw a platform or stage at one end of the tank, behind a low fence and gate, and figured that the human performers would be hanging around there, so the seats near the platform were probably the best places to sit. He calculated sightlines and the angle of the afternoon sun and made his choice, calling over to his sister as he ran toward his chosen section, flinging his small rucksack on the seat beside his as he found a seat right next to the rail.

“Leana! Let’s sit over here! We should be able to get some great vids of the show!”

Leana sighed as she got up from what seemed like a perfectly good seat to her, but knew that her brother would fidget and sulk if he sat anywhere but the perfect place. “

As soon as she got to where Allan was saving her spot, she realized that he’d probably been, as usual in these things, correct in his evaluation. They had a close-up view of the entire platform, with its scattered array of colorful hoops, balls, and what looked like plastic barbells, as well as a sort of ramp that extended down into the water. And they were very close. She was surprised that more people weren’t sitting there. She looked around and saw that new arrivals seemed to space themselves out into the largest empty spots, which were gradually being filled in as the start of the show drew closer. She could see a handful of technicians dressed in blue and green AquaWorld coveralls climbing up onto the lighting bridges, and another was rearranging the barbells and toys on the platform, so she guessed that the show was about to start.

Just then what looked like the head honcho stepped onto the platform as the crowd began to clap and cheer, “Ladies and Gentlemen, honored guests,” she began, and the audience cheered with even more enthusiasm, “AquaWorld welcomes you to the really, really big show, with the largest cast of the biggest performers on Earth, the spectacular Orca Circus!” As she spoke the last word, four huge orcas erupted from the quiet pool, arcing high into the air. The crowd went wild, and the general roar of excitement rose even higher as the whales plunged back into the water, raising a tremendous splash that drenched some spectators at the far end of the pool. They mostly seemed to have expected it, though, as many had raingear on, or held sheets of plastic over their heads.

Allan glanced away from the water and saw that some of those seated near them held plastic sheets, and one or two had raincoats. He’d seen them before, but had assumed that they were just cautious, since they didn’t live in a climate-controlled city like their own. He now realized that they might be in line for a similar soaking. He turned to his sister, who was still excited by the previous display, and spoke over the introductions being made by the pretty announcer, saying urgently, “Leana! We might get wet!”

That got her attention. She hated getting wet. She turned her head to look at him, “Aiya! Dee-Dee! The things I put up with for you! You owe me big time for this one, but it can’t be helped. Don’t worry about it.”

“Here, take my jacket, you can cover your head at least.” Allan fumbled under his seat for the rucksack and handed it over. “I’m really sorry I didn’t figure it out before. I’m such an idiot.”

She was joking, of course, which reassured him, but he made a sour face. He hated to have missed an obvious thing like the raincoats and plastic.

She saw the face and elaborated, “We’re on an adventure, Allan, and it’s OK, really. We’re out of our cushy, climate-controlled cage for the first time in our lives, so of course we’ll get wet. That’s what people do in the wilderness!” She turned her head and looked him in the eyes. “Thank you, dearest brother. From my deepest heart, I thank you.”

Allan was confused and embarrassed by her words. She’d never talked like that before, to him at least, although the two women of the family often had quiet conversations in his parent’s bedroom, or in the kitchen when he was in another room. She doesn’t like living in Campanella? Why not? What could possibly be better? What does she mean by ‘cage?’

The show was still going on, although a little anticlimactic after the entrance of the orcas, and the announcer was explaining how smart the whales were to the accompaniment of hokey circus music that Allan recognized as being from the last century at least. The whales were balancing balls on their noses, carrying plastic barbells around in their teeth, playing a sort of aquatic leapfrog, and doing other trained dog tricks, when the announcer asked for a volunteer from the audience.

Hands flew up all around the stadium, including Allan’s, some clearly raised by people who were simultaneously urging the friends to go, not themselves, and one of the confederates picked out a couple where the man was loudly insisting that his conservatively-dressed female companion ‘volunteer,’ while she was visibly reluctant. He lowered his hand sheepishly. She had the act down pat, Allan decided, feigning humiliation and painful shyness while the ‘boyfriend’ and the unsuspecting crowd encouraged her. She arrived at the platform and the announcer tried to introduce her, painfully drawing out her answers while she covered her face with her hands and stammered.

Sure enough, she was led out onto what looked like a diving board, where she was supposed to hold out a fish for the orcas to eat. She acted visibly frightened but the announcer encouraged her to lean out ‘just a little further’ and then the woman shrieked and fell forward into the pool as an orca rose out of the water behind her, startling her. Most of the audience gasped at the apparent danger and several employees ostentatiously ran to help her climb out of the water, while the audience started laughing when they saw that she was safe. Oh, please, Allan thought to himself. What’s next?

The announcer praised her courage and quick thinking, and continued, “Let’s all give the lady a hand, folks, for being such a good sport.” She held out her hands, clapping, as the woman was led to her side. “The staff will see that she gets a change of clothes later. As you know, orcas regularly eat fish and even seals, so we don’t actually taste good to them. Too much perfume.” This brought another laugh from the audience, since the woman looked just exactly like she may have been wearing too much of everything.

Allan whispered to his sister with a little nudge, “Here’s where we get wet. Look sharp….”

The announcer lowered his voice and almost whispered, as if he didn’t want the whales to hear, as he said, “The whales can actually hurl themselves onto ice floes, or even the beach, to grab a seal that looks particularly tasty.”

And right on cue, one of the whales did a tremendous belly flop out of the water and onto the ramp he’d noticed before, sending a torrent of water into the stands where they were sitting, while the ‘woman from New York’somehow wound up in his open mouth as he slid back into the water, just as she’d supposedly been walking off the platform and back toward the stands.

Pandemonium broke out in the audience, with shouts and cries for help from many of the spectators, although Allan noticed that a few people in the crowd seemed to be enjoying the seeming disaster. Sure enough, not too long after the woman had been dragged into the water, disappearing beneath the surface without a trace, there was a sudden roil of water as first one, and then the rest of the orcas, leapt partially out of the water, and the supposed tourist had somehow managed to climb on top of the last whale to appear, the one which had captured her, and was riding it like a bucking bronco, one hand waving in the air as she rode triumphantly around the arena and back toward the platform.

The audience quickly realized that they’d been duped, and started cheering as the troupe of players, human and non-human, began the rest of their act, which featured more performers riding the whales, with streamers on lightweight staffs and sparklers making quite a show.

Allan was soaked through, as was Leana when he glanced over, but she was smiling. She’d managed to keep most of the water off of her head, using his jacket, and seemed to be enjoying the show despite her soaking clothes. The grand finale was in progress, with all the whales balancing themselves partially out of the water with powerful strokes of their tails, while their riders stepped off the top of their heads and onto a high staging, a fireworks setpiece went off as the music rose to a crescendo, and the orcas slipped back under the water.

The announcer started thanking people for their enthusiasm just as the whales again appeared, in a fantastic reprise of their earlier leap from the water, but this time exploded into the air carrying special barbells with streamers and sparklers at the ends. And at that climactic moment, as the last and most spectacular ærial fireworks went off, as the whales plunged back into the pool, just on cue, Leana did something he’d never heard her do before. She roared.

He was astonished, and the reactions of the people sitting nearby were even more astonishing; one old man fainted, sagging into his seat like an half-empty sack of rice dropped onto a kitchen counter, and almost everyone drew away, appearing nervous and unsure of themselves, except for another chimed woman, a beautiful cat hybrid by the look of her, who grinned and pumped her fist in the air, evidently shouting “Yes!” except he couldn’t hear her over the cheers and whistles of the entire crowd, who were still reacting to the grand finale.

There was an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach and he felt tears begin to well from his eyes. Without willing it, his own fist pumped itself into the air and he started yelling, cheering, even as he wept, not for the end of the orca show, but because he suddenly felt connected with the cat woman, with his sister, with his parents, and with himself as a chimed human being. He’d never felt like this back home; he’d just poked along like an ordinary kid; but now he felt like he was part of something extraordinary, that he was deeply involved in the future of humanity, and something else he couldn’t explain to himself or understand yet, something about the orcas. His sister was looking at him with an odd expression on her face, but he didn’t feel ashamed of his tears, not at all. He felt opened, overwhelmed with love and pride, and free in a way he’d never felt before.

He reached out for his sister and she grabbed him in a hug, speaking loudly into his ear so he could hear her over the noise, “Wow! That was some show!”

He didn’t quite know whether she was talking about the whales or his own reaction, but he answered almost incoherently, smiling, crying, laughing, as the cheering subsided and people all around started gathering up their things, “I’m a Chimera!”

Chapter Three — The Blowoff

The cat woman walked up to them with a huge smile, oblivious to the people shuffling towards the exits all around them. “I gather this was a critical moment for you,” she said. “My name’s Nakia, Nakia bint Ramia Inconnu. Are you here on your own?”

Leana answered quickly, “Our parents are back at the hotel unpacking. My name is Leana, for obvious reasons, Leana ni Eibhleann Armstrong. And this is my brother Allan, Allan bar Shimon.” She held out her hand.

Nakia took it warmly, saying, “Your brother just found out something important about himself, I think, and you did too. I’m very pleased to meet you both.”

“I’m an empath and psychic, and I’m sorry for any inadvertent intrusion, but your own realization was obvious to anyone within a mile or more and your brother’s response was equally loud on the psychic plane.”

Both Leana and Allan blushed, as Leana blurted out, “I’m sorry, I’ve never….”

“Nonsense, young lady, your expression of joy and coming into power was perfectly

Allan and Leana had the grace to blush again, and started to protest that they’d thought no such thing when she interrupted.

“And now to business. I got the impression that you are a healer and psychic yourself, if not yet fully trained. Do you feel up to helping our lethargic friend to his feet?” She indicated the man who had fainted, and was just now beginning to stir.

“Of course! I’m so sorry, it’s all my fault!” She bent down toward the man and laid her hand on his arm, taking on the aura of alternative awareness that healing required. After a moment, the old man was fully recovered and trying to stand up. Leana told him, “Take it easy for just a bit before you get up. Your blood sugar is a little low, but you don’t seem to have diabetes. Have you been eating a lot of sugary foods?”

The man stammered. “I… I… I guess I have. And then you startled me, I think….”

“It’s alright,” she reassured him. “You might want to consult your physician when you get back home, to rule out any underlying disorder besides way too much junk food. Have you taken any medications?”

“I took some aspirins awhile ago. I’d gotten such a headache from walking in this sun… maybe I took too many….”

“That might explain it, too, but be sure to ask your doctor. And try to find healthy foods to munch on, since the combination of aspirin and sugary snacks on top of an imbalanced diet can cause acute hypoglycemia in certain people. Do you have any water?”

“Yes, but it’s been opened,” he answered. “I didn’t think to bring an extra.” He dug into his rucksack and handed it over as Leana turned back toward the seated man, handing it to him in turn.

“You’re a little dehydrated as well, which may have contributed to your vulnerability to

The man opened it without a qualm and drank deeply. “I don’t mind at all. My Mama always told me, ‘You’re bound to eat a peck of dirt before you die, so don’t you worry about no trifles.’ ”

The three of them laughed at the man’s colorful language, and Nakia said, “You’re not from around here, are you?”

“No, ma’am, I was born and bred in the great state of Virginia,” he proudly replied, “and just came on down here to see the sights.”

Nakia smiled and said, “I live in northern Virginia myself, and am down on business, just taking a break in the park after a long day of negotiations, but I believe you’re from the

The man smiled and said, “New Norfolk, a little back from the beach, now, although it’s been rising to meet me over the years. It’s always a pleasure to meet a fellow Virginian. Are these your children?”

“No, my own children are back in Virginia with my husband. He couldn’t get away; my daughter, Chione, had already signed up for summer camp, and the boy, Etienne, didn’t want to forego a certain

The man rose from his seat with a certain formality, “And my own is Richard, Richard Harrison Jefferson, no direct relation to that Jefferson.” He made a slight, but courtly bow. “Might I escort you all down to the establishment below and let me thank your un-daughter for her assistance? I’d like her advice on the menu….”

Nakia smiled and turned to Allan and Leana, who smiled back and nodded. “Absent any objection, I think we’re all of one mind.”

Mr. Jefferson walked right past the fast food stands and breezed through the entry of an upscale restaurant with what had clearly become his party in tow, beckoning to the guy at the front desk as if he did this sort of thing all the time, and asked for a quiet table for four, which was quickly provided. After the bustle of seating and passing out menus, he studied Leana for a moment. “Now, young lady, where on earth did you learn words like ‘syncope?’ When I was a lad, they surely didn’t teach that sort of thing in school!”

She answered, “Well, for example, when I looked into your body, I could see that your intracellular metabolism wasn’t working properly, and I could see the type of molecules that seemed to form a bottleneck in the process, so all I needed was to understand the theory of how the cell utilizes energy, and the names of the structures, and I could diagnose

“Yes. I don’t know enough yet to be able to distinguish all the causes of relatively rare symptoms, nor to understand all the pathways in which they can manifest. I didn’t see anything wrong with your insulin metabolism, so I figured that you probably didn’t have diabetes, and I didn’t detect healing fingersticks nor injection points, and you didn’t seem to have an on-board

She looked thoughtful as she ran down what must have been a well-organized case history held entirely in memory, “Your stomach wasn’t empty, so the cause probably wasn’t fasting, which left

“So my advice was essentially based on common sense, the same sort of advice your ‘Mama’ probably gave you, eat your vegetables, drink at least six glasses water a day, and more on hot days, make sure you have a reasonable amount of whole-grain breads or other complex starch at every meal, and live a balanced life. It’s the first rule of medicine, ‘Primum non nocere — First, do no harm.’ ” Here she gazed sternly at her patient. “And you undoubtedly know already that too much junk food isn’t good for you.”

Mr. Jefferson laughed. “Yes, Ma’am. It sounds so simple when you put it like that! I was sort of hoping for magic. And here you’re sounding just like my dear old Mama, God rest her soul.”

Leana giggled. “Well, bringing your blood pressure back up to normal was what cleared your head so quickly, and I speeded up your transformation of glycogen to glucose, which gave you a little rush of temporary energy without pills or injections, so except for the mystic robes and the funny pointed hat, you could certainly call it sorcery!” She waved her hands about in what she hoped was a magical way.

The whole table erupted with laughter at that, and the old man gasped out, “Honey, if I’m still kicking around when you get your medical license, I want to be your first patient! You’ve got a lot more horse sense than the damned fool I’ve got working on me now! Better looking too.”

Nakia reached out and placed her hand gently on his arm, smiling. “Well then, Mr. Jefferson, you’re going to have to follow her prescription for a good long while, since she’s still in high school.”

“Right.” Leana continued, “ ‘Cause I’m going to hold you to your promise. So I’ll be seeing you in about eleven years or you’re really going to get a piece of my mind.”

“Oh, my,” he said, “You’re sounding more like my Mama all the time. We’d best order something healthy and start eating right away!”

It was getting dark by the time they left the restaurant, after the best meal Allan had ever experienced, although the portions were so perfectly-sized that they didn’t feel bloated or loggy, even as hot as it was, and despite the lateness of the hour. Mr. Jefferson gave them his BioLync reference, saying that it was the least he could do, and asked them to call any time they needed anything.

“I’m in the transportation business,” he said. “Any time you need anything moved, anything at all, I’m your man.

Leana demurred, saying that he didn’t owe her anything, and it was partially her fault for scaring him in the first place.

He interrupted, “My dear young lady, you cut me to the quick! When a Southern gentleman informs you that he owes you a debt of honor, he means exactly what he says. I know I don’t owe you a penny in any legal sense, but I was in dire straits and you went out of your way to see me right. The very least I can do is to return the favor at need.”

Nakia added, taking her hand, “Leana, this is important. Remember the sense of exultation you shared with all of us, or all those within hearing at least?” She smiled. “We’re connected; all of life is connected, just as you realized and felt when you saw the whales exulting in their own strength and power and they shared it with you. Mr. Jefferson is sharing his own strength with you, just as you shared your gift of healing with him. Don’t belittle your own gifts, nor a gift freely given by another. It’s the recognition of our connections with each other, and with the whole world, that makes us human, and for those of us who are hybrids, as we all are, even Mr. Jefferson, although he appears on the surface to be an ordinary man, that means something a little bit more than human. That’s why he was particularly sensitive to your roar. Although it was very loud, the psychic component of the roar was louder still, almost overwhelming, even to me. You have extraördinary gifts, dear heart; use them wisely.”

Leana didn’t know what to say. She often felt a little uncomfortable when adults talked like, well, adults. She thought she understood what Nakia was saying, but didn’t know how to respond.

Nakia smiled and turned to Mr. Jefferson. “Thank you, sir, for your generous hospitality and good company. My full name is Nakia bint Ramia Inconnu. I’m the only one that I know of and am easily found by BioLync. I work for the government, more or less, and would be very pleased to be of service to you at any future date. Just ask. If I can’t help you, I probably know someone who can.”

He bowed again, in the same courtly manner he’d used at the beginning of their acquaintance. “We are in a web of mutual obligation, dear lady, and I in turn would take it much amiss if you didn’t call on me at need.” He nodded in their direction, somehow including all of them in a single fond respectful glance, and said, “Good evening, ladies, and young sir, until we meet again.” And with that he turned smartly and strode off toward the nearest slidewalk, stepping on with authority and being whisked off into the twilight.

“Now,” Nakia said, “if you don’t mind, Allan, since it’s going on full dark, please send a message to your parents, letting them know you’re having fun and on your way home. Don’t just call because, as a mother myself, I can tell you that one’s first thought when a call comes in and your children are out late is one of danger or accident. But a message is a gentle interruption, telling the recipient that it isn’t really important, just a courteous note about something or another. They’ll see instantly that it’s from you and won’t worry a bit. I’ll see you to your door, to make doubly sure you get back safe and sound.

Allan hastened to comply, using the voice interface to compose a short message, and then to send it off. He turned back toward the two women, but Nakia and Leana had their heads together in earnest conclave and didn’t notice.

Oh, great, he pouted, She’s just like Mom when she’s talking with Leana, jabbering about some girl thing or another. I’ll bet nobody talks to me all the way back to the hotel.

Chapter Four — Out of the Dark

When Allan woke the next morning, he was a little confused about how bright it seemed outside, since they’d traveled two hours into the day, but his internal ‘clock’ was still on Rocky Mountain Time and he hadn’t set the alarm. He glanced at his BioLync, which was never confused about time zones, to make sure he had enough time to get ready. He wanted to cast his vote for the Orca Circus again, and to visit the viewing aquarium they’d missed yesterday because of their encounter with Mr. Jefferson and Nakia. The park opened at ten and it was a little after nine now, so he figured he’d have to hurry.

He rushed through his bathroom routine and threw on a pair of green shorts and a white tee-shirt, figuring that it would be cool during the heat of the day. After a moment’s reflection, he added a floppy white cricket hat, to protect the top of his head from the sun, grabbed his rucksack and added two bottles of water, decided to leave the jacket behind but took the two large nanofilm laundry bags he’d seen clipped to a strange-looking hanger in the open closet provided for hotel guest clothing and stuffed them in instead.

His father picked up right away, “Good morning, sleepyhead. Are you ready to start the day?”

Allan answered, “Hi, Dad, Are you already up? The park doesn’t open until later, so I didn’t know how early I could bother you.”

His father chuckled, saying, “When you get to be as old as I am, you won’t need as much sleep. Your mother and I are downstairs in the

Allan laughed, “Girl stuff, probably. She’ll want the perfect outfit. I’ll be right down. I’ve already got my bag set up and I’m walking out the door.” He disconnected.

He opened the door and walked out into the hall, going to the elevators and pressed an old-fashioned call button. This place must be really ancient, he thought, first elevators and now mechanical interfaces to transportation. How hard could it be to add a BioLync interface like normal people do? Although he liked seeing such stuff in antique vids, actually living with them was a little disquieting.

The elevator arrived and he pressed the floor button, the doors closed and then the rinky-dink machinery made weird noises as it lowered itself down toward the lobby. It gave him the creeps. He was glad to get out of the medieval deathtrap and walked toward the restaurant, where he could see his parents at a window table, surrounded by beige walls with large vidscreens carrying live feeds of the Florida salt marshes, interspersed with what looked like historical memorabilia. Leana wasn’t there yet.

His mom answered, “We were just sitting here talking and waiting for our wandering children to wake up from their big adventure. How was it at your show?”

Allan enthused, “The show was great, but a little hokey. They had to ham it up I guess, for the reality vid crowds, but the orcas were so amazing! Leana saved a guy who fainted after the show and we had dinner with him afterward, and with this lady who works for the government….”

“Hold on, son,” his father broke in, “What man? What lady? Why don’t you slow down and lay it all out in logical order.” He was using that classroom lecture voice again, but Allan realized he’d left out a lot, so he started over.

“At the end of the show, one of the men sitting near us fainted. His name turned out to be Mr. Jefferson, but before Leana healed him, a woman came over who said she worked for the government. Her name was Nakia Inconnu. She’s the one who asked Leana to heal the man, because she’s an Empath and Psychic and heard Leana on the psychic plane, she said, when she roared….”

“Yes. But it’s ok, because the orcas were roaring too, or something like it. I could feel it a little and it was intense, even for me, and I don’t have near the sensitivity that Leana has. The lady could feel it too, and I think the man. The lady said that Leana had experienced a critical moment, and that she’d come into her power, and I did too, but I don’t feel powerful now. I just feel normal.” Allan wasn’t happy about this at all. In fact he was disappointed, because he’d felt like he’d known something last night that had disappeared, as if it had happened in a dream that he couldn’t remember clearly in the light of day. He was about to say something when Leana walked up to the table. She was nicely dressed,

His mother spoke first. “Hello, dear. From what Allan’s been telling us, you must have had an interesting time of it last night. Would you mind filling in a few of the details?” She smiled and sat back in her seat, which was about the scariest thing Allan had ever seen. In fact, it made him feel a little queasy.

Leana was perfectly gracious and calm. “We met a man named Richard Harrison Jefferson, the gentleman who owns Jefferson

His father broke in, almost rudely, quite unlike his normal thoughtful reflection before speaking, “Wait a minute, Leana. What sort of name is Inconnu? It’s just French for stranger, or an extinct salmon. Either way, it sounds a little fishy to me.”

Allan couldn’t tell whether his father was joking or not. The whole conversation sounded like something out of Alice Through the Looking Glass, although the words seemed perfectly ordinary on their surface. A throbbing headache had been creeping up on him and he couldn’t concentrate, but he could feel the strangeness of the words slithering around him, swimming just below the surface, undulating the floor under his chair and the restaurant walls to the edge of his range of vision. The faces, even the postures and gestures, of his family seemed scary and alien. Each and every joint of his jaws hurt in exquisite detail and the restaurant guests were all turning to look at him with menacing expressions of hate; they were almost ready to slowly crawl out of their chairs and move towards him….

His sister answered as if nothing were happening, “It’s made up, of course; but it’s her real name anyway. Some of her work is secret, I think, so I suppose it’s a sort of joke. It was one of those random encounters but extremely fortuitous, since her presence was part of the catalyst that affected us all; she’s very powerful. I felt an enormous wave of energy from the whales — they have extremely powerful minds — and it sort of ricocheted through her and into a positive feedback loop between the rest of the chimes present who were sensitive to this type of energy, which included Allan and myself, as well as Mr. Jefferson. Nakia called it, ‘coming into power’ and I can understand why, because it was very intense. It opened new pathways in my brain, I think, because my own powers seem more integrated now, as if a bottleneck had suddenly dissolved. Allan had a similar experience, I think, but he hasn’t….”

Allan was trying to say something, but he felt sick and suddenly vomited, retching uncontrollably, terrified, as people started rushing toward and around him, but he couldn’t see very well. He felt hands on him and dimly heard his sister saying “Acute Chimeric Transition Syndrome! Daddy, call Emergency Services now! Mom, help me! He’s crashing…,” as her voice faded into silence.

Allan drifted into consciousness and became aware that he was lying on a bed of some sort, but when he tried to move he was paralyzed; he couldn’t move at all, as if an enormous weight was crushing him down. He opened his eyes and became nauseous and disoriented until he closed one eye. For some reason he was having trouble uncrossing his eyes, or crossing them because they sure wouldn’t point in the same direction.

“Hi, Allan,” the voice of his sister said from behind him, although it was strangely muffled. She continued by talking inside his head, although this was a new experience for him, “It’ll be easier to talk this way, right now. You’ve gone through accelerated Chimeric Transition, and have been on life support for a little less than two months, so you probably won’t be able to talk for a bit. How are you feeling?”

“Partly, and you’re probably not seeing very well either, but that will all clear up later. The doctors say you’re going to be fine.”

There was a troubled undercurrent in her thought that frightened him, and then the realization that he could feel the undercurrents of her thoughts frightened him still more, so he blurted out, “What’s the matter with me? That can’t be all! What kind of transition takes two months? Did the process change me into a monster or something?” He was trying not to panic and not succeeding very well.

“No, no,” Leana said soothingly, with that warm lilt in her voice that a woman uses when speaking to a small and frightened child. “You’re actually quite beautiful, but you’ve changed quite a bit. You’re a full hybrid now, not a partial like you were before, and from what I can sense in your brain, you’ve gained enormous powers. But let me call Mom and Daddy, they’ve been worried sick about you. They’re out in the waiting room right now, and probably pretty uncomfortable in those cheap institutional chairs.”

“OK,” he said, slightly irritated because she kept talking in that strange tone he’d never heard her use before, at least not with him, “but before you do, what do I look like? I really want to know, just between us, before I have to put on a brave face for Mom and Dad.”

“Well,” she thought calmly, “remember how much you admired the whales? You seem to have transitioned into an orca, with a few minor modifications.”

Allan panicked, “What!? How am I going to go to school? What about my stuff? I won’t be able to wear my clothes! Or anything! How am….”

She interrupted, “Hey! Slow down! Everything’s going to be fine, more than fine. I contacted Nakia and her agency specializes in ‘difficult’ transitions so you’re going to get a lot of help gratis, free of charge, from one of the nicest people you’ve ever met with all the resources of the government behind her. The neobiologists have been having a field day with your case as well, so you can probably write your own ticket just from your ownership of the intellectual property and biotech advances contained in your body. Plus, one of the immediate spinoffs from the research they’ve already completed is that AquaWorld has been persuaded that it’s partially their fault, so they’ve made a nice settlement offer to Mom and Daddy, and will be making one to you. They’ve been waiting until you regained consciousness and were able to move around before making any firm decisions.”

“Settlement? What for?” he queried, glad to have found a puzzle to engage his mind.

“Well,” she answered, “I mentioned the neobiologists, who’ve already discovered that one of the ‘random’ variables in the classic Chimeric transition is what free bits of genetic material you’ve been exposed to at a critical stage of the infection. Mostly, the process seems to involve microscopic ‘dust’ that’s quite literally blowing in the wind, so the connection hasn’t ever been strongly made before. But being drenched in salt water that has been the home of five large sea mammals is an excellent way of ensuring that most of the ‘dust’ is washed away and replaced by pure whale stuff. It’s a miracle this hasn’t happened before, or maybe not. If I hadn’t been right there with you, if my healing abilities hadn’t received a jumpstart from the orcas and Nakia, and if Mom hadn’t been there to help until the emergency crew got there, you could easily have died that day in the restaurant. Dead, you would have been just another transition fatality, sad certainly, but not too terribly unusual, even in our modern hi-tech civilization. So count your blessings, Dee-Dee, you’re alive, probably wealthy beyond the dreams of avarice, with good job prospects, and surrounded by people who love you, not least of whom is me.”

Allan started to cry, thick oily tears that burred his already blurry vision still further. He fought to control himself, thinking of his parents, still waiting outside, and of his own pride in himself. Everyone knew that something could happen to you, and a few of the kids at school even wore unisex or opposite-sex clothing and makeup or facial hair to demonstrate their total acceptance of the possibility of change. They called themselves ‘

Heraclitus was right, nothing is constant, even if a casual glance doesn’t notice the change in progress. Leana was right, too — he could just as easily be dead, and almost was to hear her tell the tale. Living in modern times was at least ‘interesting.’ He could do this. It wasn’t but half a year since he’d stood up and announced, ‘Today, I am a man,’ and it was about time he showed it. When he felt ready, he said to his sister, “Well, you’d better send them in. I don’t want to leave them hanging in a state of uncertainty and doubt….”

“Really,” she said, almost casually, “it’s the least of your worries right now, because both male and female orcas keep their genitals hidden in a neat little slit, which I’ve always thought was by far the better system, but you’re my little sister now, which is sort of ironic, considering that you weigh almost four thousand pounds, and might get up to eight thousand pounds or more. The hospital had to requisition every spare quick transition pack on the East Coast, and Nakia kicked in quite a few from her agency as well. And the bright side is that you don’t have to go through all that stupid male trauma about wearing girl’s clothes, because you won’t be wearing any at all.”

“Allan! You’d better not make me mad!” She was as ticked off as she’d ever been, which was pretty darned ferocious. “You may be bigger than I am now but I can still make you holler ‘Auntie’ in two shakes of my tail!” You’ve been given a tremendous gift, complete and utter freedom, not to mention your life. I can’t even begin to tell you how good it is, and you fell into it through sheer dumb luck, like falling off a log. So don’t you make our mother cry with your whining and complaining! She feels bad enough already because you got so dreadfully ill after she let you out of her sight for one little evening. Do you understand exactly how miserable she’s been feeling all this time? Don’t you dare add to her recriminations and anguish by wailing about your sad lot in life!”

Allan paused, thinking, before replying, “I’m sorry, Jie-Jie. You’re the best big sister in the world and I’m grateful. It’s just a lot to take in at once. But I’ll be good.” Belatedly, he’d realized that what she said was true, his mother especially would have been devastated by the terrible danger he’d escaped, just barely according to Leana. His father would have grieved deep inside, even as he maintained his outward composure, and both would have been quite unable to comfort one another.

“It’s OK, dear sibling. I know you will. So stiff upper lip and all that; it’s show time. Here come the troops.”

He heard the bustle of people behind him and, strangely, could identify their exact location and movements, just from the sound. His mother spoke first, “Oh, Allan! My baby boy! I’ve been so worried about you I thought I might bite somebody, especially those silly doctors who kept giving me their ‘guarded optimism’ speeches. Are you feeling alright? Do you need anything? Do you want me to bite a doctor for you?”

Suddenly, the earnest incongruity of her words struck him as a hilarious commentary on life in general, especially his, and he felt the weight of the unknown lift from his shoulders, or whatever it was he had now, Allan felt like laughing, and tried to project his laughter and good spirits in a way that his empathic mother could sense, while relaying his own joke back by way of his sister, “Leana, tell Mom that I’ve just been figuring out how much I’m going to be able to save on clothes over the years. Heck, I’m not even going to need a wedding dress, which will help pay for their retirement considering how big I seem to be, so I expect a really nice present. Can you imagine how much lace and how many seed pearls it would take to cover a body sixteen feet long? So tell her, ‘Thank you, but no. I don’t want her to bite a doctor, even though I know she probably would if I asked.’ ”

Leana smiled at him and thought, “I knew I could count on you, dearest and newest sister,” she said, and started her translation. When Leana had finished relaying Allan’s retort, the room erupted in general laughter, and not all of it was due to nerves.

“Now tell her that I love her with all my heart, and am glad to be alive, and would you mind doing simultaneous translation so she doesn’t get left out of the loop?”

She replied, “Not at all…,” and relayed the psychic communication from then on.

His mother said, “Allan, dear, I love you too. I was so afraid that you’d be depressed or unaccepting. I’m so glad that you can see the humor of your situation.”

He answered, “Well, it’s not as if we all haven’t been aware for a hundred and fifty years or more that, no matter who we think we are, Chimes can change us in the twinkling of an eye, ‘a capite ad calcem,’ ‘from head to heel,’ as Dad would say. And I’m luckier than many, since I grew up as a hybrid, and was used to being different from the outset. If we didn’t know that the initial infections were pure accidents, the agents of uncontrolled genetic mutations released without planning or foresight by a bunch of corporations out to make a buck, we could almost have seen it as a prank by a cosmic trickster, or maybe the joke was on the corporations, because the world took their little toys away from them and turned them into something else entirely, and the new gifts that the Chimeric mutations brought probably saved humanity as a whole from mutual self-destruction, and the whole world along with it.”

Allan reached out with his mind toward his father, and asked, “Dad? Could you tell me exactly what’s going on with my changes?” knowing that his father would have explored every aspect of his change in great detail, just as he would have himself.

“Allan? It’s good to hear from you in person. The doctors in charge of your case have been less than communicative, to such an extent that, from time to time, I felt like biting a few of them myself.” His father sounded much more casual and warm than he usually did, so Allan could tell that he’d really been worried. He continued, “And of course I can. Your sister contacted this Nakia Inconnu person right away, while you were being carried to the ambulance and professional Healers could help to maintain your vital… vital… vitals.” He faltered for a moment, and then continued. “Forgive me, dearest Allan, but I’d feared then that you were lost to me and recounting the story brought back the despair I’d felt before my path became clear. I must say that she managed to organize a number of resources very quickly, including this hospital, the custom flotation bed you’re languishing in at this very moment, and a plethora of specialized apparatus which was constructed to order as the extent and direction of your transformation became clear. It was really quite astonishing. I wish my own department could be that organized.”

Allan chose this moment to steer the data dump, as it made him a little uncomfortable to hear his father become emotional. “Leana mentioned a settlement, what’s that all about?”

“Oh, that. Tut, tut, nothing to worry about just now. Nothing at all to worry about. I’ve accepted a position as Chair of the Classics Department at Vancouver Polyversity, with a slight rise in salary which ought to accommodate our simple needs. Your mother has decided to take a sabbatical year or two off, for research and to have a bit more time to spend with you and your sister during your salad years, since you’re both obviously

“My dear Allan, you’re very dear to us all, and a bit young to be out on your own. Did you imagine we’d drop you off in the nearest large puddle and be on our way? There was never any question that we’d move, once it became obvious that you weren’t going to be comfortable in our old house. ‘Aut viam inveniam aut faciam.’ I’ll find a way or make one, as

“But your students, your classes…. I thought they were everything you wanted….”

“Trifles all, and even if they weren’t, one who cannot cast away a treasure at need is in fetters. Everything really important to me is right here in this room, your mother and the two children we love with all our hearts, Leana and you, dear Allan. Teaching is only my trade, a means to live, but all of you are my reason to live, and I well know the difference, despite fleeting appearances to the contrary. Everything is packed up, sold, or in storage in Vancouver, even as we speak, and the dust is shaken from our figurative sandals. As the ancient Greeks observed, ‘To peprōmenon phugein adunaton.’ Destiny rules us, and our part is to obey.”

Leana continued, speaking aloud for everyone, “In other words, dear sister, ‘Wagons ho!’ We’re headed out west, and into the sunset, to seek the undying gardens of the

A few minor details! Allan groused to himself as he did the umpteenth repetitions of his daily physical therapy exercises. He’d been growing so rapidly, catching up to his equivalent age in ‘orca years,’ that he’d barely been able to keep up his muscle strength to match his size and weight. They’d made a therapy pool of sufficient size to allow him to float, and even submerge, but it wasn’t big enough to actually swim in, and they didn’t want him using the tank at AquaWorld, since they weren’t sure how the unchimed orcas would react. It would have been a major hassle, moving him, in any case, so he was stuck with the dolphin equivalent of isometrics and free weights.

His parents had gone on to Vancouver, his father to start work and his mother to handle the final details of furnishing the house, and supervise construction, with his father’s assistance, of a large partially-covered pool off the Strait so he could easily interact with his family and have a quiet refuge until he mastered the physical environment of the open ocean. Although his sister had stayed behind to keep him company, she couldn’t be there twenty-four hours a day and he missed his parents a lot.

This is about the worst summer camp ever, he thought to himself. Worse than the three weeks I spent making grass baskets and

And then there were the tests. Tests of his gene sequence, tests of his strength, tests of his physiological adaptations, tests of his chimed abilities and the level of his powers, although they insisted that this last was all preliminary, since he was still growing and his brain size was increasing along with the rest of his body.

Once, when the scientists had managed to tear themselves away from their probes and recording devices, they’d explained that dolphins were highly evolved, and had been around in more-or-less their modern form for twenty million years or so, although the origins of whales in general dated back fifty million years or so to a sort of hoofed mammalian equivalent of the crocodile. Their brain sizes were roughly similar to human brains based on comparative body mass, but he was so much bigger than normal humans that he was rapidly approaching the maximum brain size for Earth mammals, no matter what their body weight. There seemed to be a physical limit to the number of connections available in an organic structure, although that part still confused him. Something about 3-D graphing topology, combinometrics, heat dissipation, oxygen takeup, glucose utilization, signal contamination and sustainable error rates, all spiced with elaborate diagrams and mathematical formulæ that were slightly beyond his eighth-grade skill set.

The neobiologists and Chimeric Syndrome specialists they brought in were at a loss to explain, or even understand, what he might be capable of eventually, but they’d told him that he now actually had two brains, each divided into two lobes, for a total of four ‘processors’ that maintained his consciousness.

That was the reason that he’d initially had trouble focusing both of his eyes at the same time, since each eye was actually connected to a different brain. After long practice, he’d gotten to the point that he could look in two directions at once without feeling nauseous or disoriented. Each eye movement was completely independent of the other, and he was fully aware of what was going on in each visual field, even while simultaneously holding two ‘sonar’ images in mind, which could be overlaid on the visual images or completely separate, depending on the task he needed to perform. It made him nervous sometimes, even though he performed these perceptual conjuring tricks without conscious effort, when he caught himself remembering that what he’d just done was ‘impossible.’

The hardest thing for him to adapt to, though, was that his range of binocular vision was severely limited, although he could focus both eyes on a relatively narrow area in front of his snout and achieve true depth perception, startlingly exaggerated because of the large distance between his two eyes, but he’d quickly became so used to seeing more than three hundred degrees around him, almost a full circle, that it took a special effort to concentrate on depth perception, and only in that limited area directly in front of him.

Added to this was the fact that he now actually had two sound-producing organs, one on either side of his blowhole, each connected to a different brain, so he could sing duets with himself, or carry on two conversations at once.

Leana had come into the therapy pool pavilion, accompanied by two people he didn’t recognize at first. His new vision was limited in its perception of red, or reddish tones, and greatly enhanced in the blue and green regions of the spectrum, so almost everything looked a little odd in comparison with his memory. He had to squint to keep from being overwhelmed with the light in the pavilion, although he’d been told that they kept the normal illumination inside very dim, so as not to overwhelm the increased sensitivity of his new eyes, but could see quite clearly by the equivalent of starlight, all the better for seeing by the deep blue-green ambient light available twenty fathoms or more beneath the surface. He could hardly wait to get out of his cage.

“Not really, he said. It’s just so much work and so little fun. I know I’m a ‘big girl’ now, but I’m also still a kid. Don’t I ever get to go outside and play?” He thrashed his tail, raising a roiling wave behind him that he could sense with his echolocation organs. “I’m tired of being treated like I’m sick when I don’t feel sick at all.”

His sister said, “That’s why we’re here, actually. Remember Mr. Jefferson and Nakia?”

“Nakia! Mr. Jefferson?” He’d been told that Nakia had been by to see him several times while he’d still been in a coma, but he hadn’t actually seen her since that afternoon and evening at the Orca Circus. And he didn’t understand why Mr. Jefferson was here at all, although he was glad to see them both. Other than Leana, the doctors, the physical therapists, and various scientists and neobiologists, he didn’t get all that many visitors. His mother and father had been back to see him over a couple of long weekends in the five weeks he’d been in therapy and training so far, but when they’d left he’d felt even more lonely.

Leana somehow managed to make her thought ‘sound’ like she was speaking out of the corner of her mouth, like a Dashiel Hammet gun moll, “How’d you like to bust out of this joint, sister?”

Nakia replied, “That’s where we come in. Richard here has kindly offered to transport us all by airship, all the way to Vancouver and the Strait of Georgia, and I’m here to accompany you on your long journey home. We only have a few minor details to take care of here before we leave.” She smiled broadly.

Allan rose up out of the water to half his imposing height, dwarfing his friends standing by the edge of the pool, “Minor details! I can handle details. I’ve been taking care of ‘minor details’ for more than a month now! When do we get started? An airship! I’ve never been in an airship! Will I be able to see out of a window? Thank you both so much!” and splashed back down to the confines of his little pool.

Mr. Jefferson laughed and said, “Well, you’ll be riding in a cargo hold, but it’s also the passenger compartment, and the arrangements are flexible, so I believe I can provide not one, but two windows for you, so you can see out from both sides of the airship at once. You’ll be riding alone, except for invited guests of course, but I’ll need a list so I can arrange to have sufficient passenger seats bolted in if you’ll be inviting a large party. My cargo airships are very adaptable, since I host chartered scientific expeditions as well as cargo too large for the various subway systems, so they’re designed to be reconfigured to meet almost any conceivable need within their size and weight limits.”

“That sounds fantastic to me! When can we leave?” He twisted around to scan all three of them with one eye.

“Real soon now.” Nakia laughed, and then put on the ‘show and tell’ face she probably used in her business meetings. “Our scientists have been working on a few things we think you’ll need to maintain a ‘civilized’ lifestyle, in consultation with the neobiologists and Healers who’ve been studying your neural pathways and brain. I think you’ll like them.”

He squirmed around in the tank, the water rippling. “What are they?” he inquired.

“First, she said, is a set of replacements for your cochlear implants, which have been working, more or less, but aren’t nearly as flexible as your new senses are. The new ones are designed to accommodate your full range of hearing, and operate coaxially to accommodate the fact that you can listen with each brain separately and have three hearing organ systems, one for ultrasonic signals, another for what unhybridized humans would call ‘audible’ frequencies, and yet a third, distributed over the fine hairs on your skin, for what they might call ‘subsonic’ frequencies. I didn’t bring samples of these, because they look very much like ordinary implants, just larger to accommodate the extra circuitry.”

“The second is a set of ocular implants, but again not the versions one finds ‘off the shelf.’ These operate coaxially as well, and we believe that they will restore full color vision to your repertoire, but only for electronic signals. So if you want to take an art appreciation class in college, you’ll be able to ‘see’ the same brilliantly-colored paintings the other students see and comment on the interplay of color and chiaroscuro right along with the most pretentious of them. With special visual input devices, you could even see into the ultraviolet, as many insects do, or ‘see’ other ranges within the entire electromagnetic spectrum.”

“Jing-Tsai! Ocs! I’ve been wanting them for ages!” Allan said, raising largish waves in his pool at the same time by squirming his flukes and flippers in excitement. “But how can we afford them?”

Nakia peered at him strangely, with her head tilted slightly to one side. “The same way you’ve ‘afforded’ all this.” She waved at the apparatus, the pool, and the associated buildings. “Chimes affects all citizens randomly, so our program is essentially a government-sponsored insurance program that kicks in when the ordinary resources available to most citizens fail. We don’t take new Chimeræ shopping for new clothes, if they can wear ordinary clothes after their transition, or buy their food, if they can still eat normal food, but we do cover ‘special needs,’ and you have a selection of the most ‘special’ requirements we’ve ever encountered. For one thing, your average citizen doesn’t normally eat four to five hundred pounds of wild salmon every day.”

Allan did his best to look innocent, hard to do when one is huge and muscular and has a large mouthful of alarming teeth. “I’ve been going through a growth spurt,” he said quietly, “and I get so hungry, even with nothing to do.”

Nakia sniffed at him before continuing, “These implants aren’t so you can play the latest video games, although, to be fair, they can be used for that as well,” she winked, “but so that you can live a ‘normal’ life, or as close to one as we can approximate. You can’t exactly carry a palmtop or VR glasses around with you, so reading and many other visual interactions with people walking around on dry land, and with objects that don’t tolerate salt water, will have to be done through bioelectronic mechanisms. These ‘gadgets’ will help, although you’ll still have to do a large part of the work to maintain your connection to the ordinary human race and to the land.”

She walked to the edge of the pool and held up a bioplastic object about the size of a softball so he could examine it closely.

“Next is an embedded BioLync, and we’re very proud of this since it’s the first one with these particular features available to a member of the general public. It too has been enhanced with coaxial capabilities, so that it’s actually a set of four BioLyncs which can operate in parallel or separately, depending on your needs. It’s larger than normal, because it needs more antenna and power to be able to ‘punch’ through sea water, but should be able to access local repeaters on shore and even the low-earth satellite network when out at sea, at least down to ten meters or so.” She tossed the ‘ball’ over to Leana, who put it back in Nakia’s briefcase.

“What makes it truly unique, though, is that we’ve added four ‘keyboard’ interfaces, although your interaction with the interfaces is entirely mental and physiological, so you won’t have to figure out how to press keys with your snout or perform other parlor tricks. It will require a great deal of training to achieve fluency on the keyboards, but we think you’ll be highly motivated to do so, and believe that you’ll easily be able to hit speeds of three hundred or more words per minute if you use both of your ‘brains’ at once, so you can always get a good job as a secretary if you decide you want to work your way through college.”

She grinned, “Since you won’t be limited by how fast you can make physical fingers move, nor develop carpal tunnel syndrome through overuse of hands, you won’t be vulnerable to many of the hazards involved in professions which require keyboard use, which is almost all of them nowadays. We expect that this will enhance your ability to earn a living no matter what you wind up doing with your life.”

“Wouldn’t that kind of technology be valuable for others as well?” Allan asked, thinking about several of the radically transformed Chimes he’d met in school or seen around town.

“Yes, it would, and it will be offered to many individuals who wind up transitioned into forms with poor manual skills. Although it’s partly based on our studies of your brain and neural pathways and you do own a portion of the intellectual property rights, most of the work was done by our scientists, so your royalties will be fairly small on a percentage basis.”

Allan shifted uncomfortably in his pool, raising large ripples that lapped at the edges. “Can I donate my share to my fellow Chimes?” he asked. “I don’t want to profit from their problems. It doesn’t seem right.”

“You probably can,” she said, smiling again. “But since you’re still a minor, we’ll have to run this by your parents. But knowing them as well as I do, I think they’ll be extremely proud of your choice. I know I’m proud that you’re my friend and are so warmly generous, so let’s consider it a done deal.”

“Cool! I know they will.” He rocked back and forth in the pool in excitement, sloshing water over the sides and onto the walk. “My father isn’t very fond of what he calls ‘leeches at the public blood supply,’ and my own involvement was minimal, since I mostly just floated here in my pool while they had Healers mucking about trying to understand how my brain worked. And I knew kids in school who’d gotten paws or hoofs and had a really hard time doing the schoolwork sometimes.”

Nakia looked fondly at Allan, touched by his forthright compassion. “Our share is automatically donated, so the technology will pass into the public domain and be shared around the world. Since most of the resulting products will be purchased by our agency, or organizations like ours in other countries of the world, it doesn’t make sense to try to collect royalties and then give them back. We save a fortune on bookkeeping costs alone by just giving our creations away.”

Mr. Jefferson coughed and said, Now, now, Ms. Inconnu. Don’t underestimate the good we greedy capitalists manage to squeeze in between pinching pennies.

She glanced at him with some affection,“I never forget it. And your own generosity is very much appreciated by all of us, since our own bean-counters — bless their black hearts — wanted to transport Allan by maritime cargo freighter, across the Northwest Passage to the West Coast, which would have taken weeks, but let’s concentrate on getting Allan squared away just now.”

She refocused her attention on Allan and continued, “The next bit is something I’m particularly fond of, four remote sensor/manipulator units and their associated implanted interfaces. I didn’t bring examples, but the implanted interface is actually an adjunct to the BioLync unit, and the mobile units were too big to carry in my case. These will enable you to have a physical presence anywhere that a BioLync signal can be received, and the interface is general enough that you’ll be able to swap out units for different activities. We’re going to supply four units, two general purpose land units so you can go to school and just fool around on dry land and two specialized aquatic units, the latter so that you can expand your awareness of the underwater environment to cover a wider range and try to stay out of trouble too dangerous for you to handle on your own. You will be doing that, won’t you?” She waggled the tufts over her eyes at him.

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll be careful. I’ve been reading up on the area, although it’s been hard since I have to have someone operate the interface while I lean on the edge of the pool, and I understand that there are two wild groups of orcas in the Georgia Strait, and that they’re reputed to be not overly friendly toward outsiders.”

“Please, don’t call me ‘ma’am.’ ” She looked at him sternly. “I’m neither your grandmother nor the Queen of England. I’ve been reading too, and have talked to some of our marine biologists, and single females have a much better chance of being accepted as friends, although I don’t know how you’ll overcome the ‘language’ problem, since they use different ‘dialects’ even between different groups, and we still don’t really know whether they’re only complex animal calls or something much more sophisticated. We do know that their intelligence is profoundly alien to our own, but this might be a good area of study for you, since you could certainly rise to be the top expert in the field, not only because you seem to share much of the same brain structure, but also because you could actually follow the groups on a daily basis and put to rest a lot of misconceptions once and for all.”

Allan heaved himself up onto the edge of the pool, since this was something he’d been thinking about quite a bit, and spoke earnestly, “It might also be that having two coöperating brains is critical for understanding the language. And sorting out a multiplexed signal, especially when there’s no trivial mechanical rule, is very difficult without a consciousness that’s designed for this task.”

Nakia looked a little out of her depth. “That sounds fascinating, but way outside my own area of expertise. You’re still a teenager and already you can make my eyes glaze over in stupefied amazement. Just wait until you grow up. You’re going to make a real difference in whatever field — or fields — you choose. Anyway, back to the remote units. We’ll cover ordinary repairs for ‘wear and tear’ on the units, or even full replacement if the equipment has exceeded its projected lifespan, or through unavoidable misadventure, but if you want to have a cool little unit mounted in a miniature suborbital ramjet, or put one into a flivver so you can drive around, you’ll have to spring for the cost on your own. And careless destruction or misuse of a unit is not ‘ordinary wear and tear.’ Is that clear?”

“Good. They’re pretty expensive, although I expect the price to come down eventually, since our engineers designed them to use as many standard components as possible.”

She reached into her case and took out an ordinary keyboard. “And now we come to the last part of the package, your new ID and the various papers that citizens find handy to have, a birth certificate, picture ID card, passport, tax ID number, and so on, together with their certified electronic equivalents of course, which will probably prove much more useful in your daily life. Have you chosen a new name yet? Have your parents helped you with this?”

Allan paused for a moment. “Thank you,” she said firmly, “but I want to do it on my own, and my parents agree, so I’d like to choose Sa’aan as my first name, which means ‘Orca’ in a local dialect of the Haida, a First Nation still prominent in the area to the north of Vancouver. It also means a spiritual or supernatural power, which seems especially appropriate because I somehow believe that I’ve been called to this new existence by a sort of destiny. I felt it that very first day, when I was caught up in the feedback loop with the orcas and Leana and you and Mr. Jefferson, although it had faded just before I fell ill. But now that I’ve recovered, the memories have returned stronger than ever, and that connected feeling is strongest of all. As for the rest, I’d like to keep my old patronymic name with a new feminine relationship marker, to honor my father as before, so ‘Sa’aan bat Shimon Armstrong’ is it. ‘Ess, Ay, Apostrophe, Ay, Ay, En.’ ”

Nakia paused, typing the exact spelling into what was evidently a BioLync form. “‘Sa’aan’ sounds like a very good choice, and fitting. I take it that you’ve been thinking of this for quite some time.”

“I have. Making the switch in genders has been especially difficult for me, because the average person doesn’t look at the shape of my dorsal fin and say, ‘Wow! Just look at the curvy fin on that cute babe!’ and I don’t have any companions who really relate to me as anything other than a sort of big fish with no more gender than a football. Other than my sister, of course, who’s been very consistent from the start. I thought for a while about ordinary girl’s names like Mary or Jennifer, because they’re obvious gender markers, but they didn’t seem right, since there isn’t any tradition surrounding those names that has anything to do with my physical reality. It’d be like naming Godzilla ‘Aloysious,’ which probably would have affected ticket sales for the original movie rather badly.” She moved restlessly in the water, wordlessly acting out her strong emotions, “Sa’aan has a rich tradition, although it’s from another human culture, but it does say something important about me. And I do mean it to honor the Haida tradition, despite knowing that their tradition isn’t mine to use willy-nilly, since their beliefs are part of a coherent and sacred relationship with the Haida ancestors and with the natural world around them. But from my reading, it’s a tradition I can deeply respect, and they’ve always respected beings who looked like me. My other choice was something from the Maori people, who also honor orcas, but they’re half a world away while the Haida will be right next door.”

“That’s a very interesting observation.” she mused, while typing more information into the form. “My own great-great-great grandmother, who was also a first-generation hybrid, chose her own name using the same general logic, and from a tradition that honored the body she found herself in after her transition. Like you, she changed genders, but it was much harder in those days, I think, since there were still people who believed that gender was immutable and divinely ordained, and not simply an accident of conception or Chimeric transition during gestation or puberty.”

Sa’aan rose up from the water again, fixing the gaze of one eye on her three visitors, “So how long is all this going to take? The last time I got bogged down in ‘minor details’ it took five weeks and I still don’t seem to be quite over them.”

Nakia was unfazed by this display, “Well, this is essentially ‘bandaid’ microsurgery. All performed by waldo-equipped surgeons and Healers, so no more than a few days, mostly to be sure the incisions are healing properly and that the units themselves are functional. You could be on your way by the end of the week.”

“The end of the week!!! Wahooo!!! Shur-ah!!! Sign me up!!!” She sank back into her tiny pool and flipped her tail powerfully, tossing a few hundred pounds of pool water high into the air.

“Uh, Sa’aan?” Nakia said wincing. “The rest of us don’t have quite your number of brain cells to push out the power. That was a tiny bit too much.”

Mr. Jefferson asked carefully, trying to keep his head very still, “Is there blood coming out of my eyeballs and ears?”

Sa’aan looked at both of them very carefully and said remorsefully, “I don’t think so, and I’m very sorry I got so excited, but there are lots of doctors around if you’d like me to call some.”

Mr. Jefferson said, grinning, “Gotcha! Ms. Sa’aan. I don’t think it will be necessary, but it was rather powerful. Not every psychic you’ll meet is as tough as we are. Many people are just like eggshells and will break if you jostle them about too roughly. Remember to be just as careful with their minds as you would be of their bodies if they fell into the water near you. You have the strength to do an ordinary person quite a bit of damage, or even kill them, with no more effort than I might use to swat a mosquito.”

“I understand. I already have to ‘bite my tongue,’ so to speak, to avoid starting up coaxial telepathic channels, so this is just another rule to follow.”

Mr. Jefferson interjected, “What do you mean by that, exactly? You’ve mentioned the word ‘coaxial’ several times but I don’t really understand what it means in this context.”

“Well, because I can split the attention of my two brains, I can handle several output streams at once, like this: ‘Well, Nakia, I’ll I’m give going you to a give demonstration Mr. by Jefferson talking a to demonstration you by and talking to to Ms. both Inconnu of at you the at same once. time. Is How’s that this? OK? How How do do you you do? do?’”

Nakia started laughing, and then said, “We’re we’re fine, fine, thank thank you. you. But you cheated to make it easier for us, didn’t you?”

“I did, by separating the words in time division multiplexing, so you could distinguish the two streams with a simple algorithm. In real life, it would have been truly simultaneous, almost like a cocktail party where everyone talks at once.” She spoke again: “HHeeyl,l oG,e oBregtet.y .L oHnogw ’tviem ey,o un ob eseene?!”

Nakia laughed again, delightedly, “I give up. You’re right, it’s gibberish to me, although I’m sure it’s just as simple for you as the other example.”

“Simpler, actually, just as it would be unnatural for you to… pause… between… your… words… in normal speech. Talking is like music, and part of the meaning is conveyed by rhythm and cadence. Altering the rhythm alters the meaning, and you can’t really speak fluently anymore. On the other hand, most people do a sort of limited coaxial communication quite naturally, carrying parallel messages with their hands, facial expressions, and ‘body language’ while they’re talking, which can either reinforce the verbal message or contradict it. I can’t do very much of that at all, obviously, so everything’s a tradeoff, just as they always say.”

“Girl!” Nakia drawled, “I can hardly wait to see what you’re going to do to the world when you come of age. I think we’re all going to be living in ‘interesting times,’ as the saying is, and real soon too.”

Leana added, “Me too! We’re going to do such great things together, Mei-mei! Just you wait! I’ve been taking diving lessons, and Daddy bought a little sailboat, so we can hang out at the underwater equivalent of malls, or whatever.”

“Amen, sisters, amen,” Mr. Jefferson agreed in cadence. “With two of you young hellions out and about in the world, I think I’m going to be talking to my stock broker sometime real soon now, real soon. I wonder if a premonition counts as insider trading?”

Sa’aan shifted slightly in the water, looking at them with one lidded eye, utterly inscrutable.

Chapter Five — The Journey West

As promised, the run-up to Sa’aan’s release from the hospital was routine. Although the tiny incisions still itched a little, the staff Healer had accelerated the formation of collagen and connective tissue deep in the wounds, stitching the edges of the dissected tissue together without the formation of keloids or disfiguring misalignment, so all that was left was minor discomfort until the blood supply to the affected parts was fully restored. The microsurgeon had assured her that any scarring would be almost invisible to the naked eye.

The implants appeared to be working properly, although the keyboard and remote interfaces were still giving her a little trouble, but she’d been assured that that would all become easier over time, as new neural pathways were established and properly mapped in her cortices. Already she’d been able to move one of her land mobiles around the pool, checking her internal sense of its orientation by looking at it with one eye, while overlaying its video and sensor feed onto the image field of the other eye. She’d left handling sub-fields and transparent overlays until later, as she had a lot to get used to.

Before she actually had them, ocular implants had sounded like loads of fun, but now she realized that it took a lot of work to master them. Then she thought that maybe the many extra features and increased flexibility built into hers made them more difficult to control than the ordinary sort.

It’ll all come out in the wash, she thought, as she turned her attention to the work crew putting together her travel tank. If she’d thought the therapy pool was cramped, the travel tank looked almost skin tight, since it was intended only to float her weight and keep her skin hydrated. It was constructed of a clear plasteel, polished until it was like window glass. The roof and walls of the pavilion had already been removed, the equipment either cleared away or packed for travel, and the crane and cradle intended to lift her from the pool and into the tank were already in place, just waiting for the finishing touches, pumping in the water, and the arrival of the airship.

The whole process fascinated her, partly because she missed having hands, but also because it seemed so well-rehearsed, although she knew that this was the first time this task had ever been done, since she herself was one of a kind. ‘

Just then, she heard the propellers of what must be the airship coming up fast from behind her. She swiveled her nearest eye toward the sound and saw it, huge against the bright sky, descending toward her pool. Suddenly, everything started happening at once, the crew with the lifting cradle dropped one edge into the water and used long poles to maneuver it beneath her, while she used her fins and flukes to lift as much of her weight out of the water as possible, to allow the cradle to easily pass under her belly.

They motioned to the crane operator, who swung the boom over the pool while the airship engines whined in reverse to brake its forward motion. Then down came the crane hook toward the lifting rings of the cradle, two wire ropes dangling and moving like snakes in the rush of wind from the airship propellers overhead. They clipped on and lifted her out of the water — it felt almost like flying — and down again into the travel tank. As she was lowered, other members of the crew were filling the tank with fresh salt water, and hooking up the recycling and æration pump and filtration system so it wouldn’t turn nasty over the duration of the flight across the continent.

Then the whole process was repeated with a hook and wire rope harness that dropped from the airship, which were quickly attached to the travel tank and she was hoisted rapidly into the sky, higher than she’d ever been without anything under her to stand on, as if she were on a giant glass swing moving out over the edge of a cliff. She could see for miles all around her, as far as the brilliant blue sea to the south and east of Tallahassee, and inland toward the low green hills of northern Florida.

She could see the open cargo hatch of the airship above her, the opening appearing to grow larger as she was rapidly drawn upward and towards it, and then she was inside the belly of leviathan, while unseen machinery below her swung the hatch doors shut and the roar of the propellers quieted and the rumble of the engines became more prominent.

Just as she’d been assured by Mr. Jefferson, the two forward sides of the hold had been replaced with large sheets of transparent plasteel, and there were even large plasteel panels let into the deck beside her on either side, so she could see below, and the entire front of the hold was similarly transparent. So she still had a bird’s eye view of the wide, wide world as yet another work crew, these in blue hardhats while the crew below had worn green, rushed around fastening the travel tank to the deck of the hold, which already had several shipping containers in place near the rear. Glancing upward, she could see that the same hoist which had lifted her tank could move back and forth on rails that ran the full length of the hold, and from side to side on a strong track, presumably to allow items to be placed at any point in the hold.

Looking around, she saw that Mr. Jefferson, in a gold hardhat, and Leana, her mother, and Nakia, each with white hardhats, were well back from the work area, toward the very front of the hold. Leana waved.

“Hey, flygirl! I’ll bet you had more fun coming aboard than I did!” Leana was almost as excited as Sa’aan was, “We had to take a flivver to the ærodrome and then just climbed up a portable staircase and plopped into our seats like a ride on the subway, although the view was much better, being real life instead of a vid that repeats every time you take the same trip. The seat harnesses are simpler than the ones they use in the subway too, so I reckon they aren’t worried about running into anything in the middle of the air.”

Mr. Jefferson laughed out loud, and then answered, “Not really, little lady, although I’ve done it often enough before. Our top speed is around forty knots, or forty-six miles per hour, or seventy-four kilometers per hour, depending on your favorite measurement. I can’t justify spending that much time in the air for just sightseeing. But I have to admit that I look forward to this little vacation, and having the excuse of a special transportation problem to justify the expense just adds

He smiled at Sa’aan and then turned to Nakia and began a quiet conversation as they gained altitude and the ground dropped away.

Sa’aan then tried out one of her new toys, a BioLync interface which had a special circuit to sample her natural voice down into the ordinary human range which she was just now mastering; she placed a group call to her mother and Leana, and then said, “Hi, Mom! Hi, Leana! Neat trick, huh?”

“Sa’aan?” His mother seemed surprised, “How nice to hear from you directly at last! I’ve missed being able to talk to you. But how is it possible?” She followed Leana to the tank, off to one side, and rested her hand on the clear panel, as if to stroke Sa’aan’s side.

Sa’aan said cheerily, “It’s one of the gadgets Ms. Inconnu provided, to allow me to ‘talk’ to almost anyone without special effort. It basically samples my natural voice down into a standard range. Since I can speak in a range almost higher than you can hear, my end of the conversation is mostly inaudible to all of you, but if we had a dog on board it would probably be going crazy. It’s basically a magic trick, but it seems very effective. I can adjust the range if this doesn’t sound right. I have it set for a low contralto, so people don’t get confused but still seems ‘realistic.’ You don’t have to use the BioLync, though. I can hear perfectly well.”

His mother walked toward the front of the tank and stared into one eye. “No, it’s perfect. I’ve missed you so much in Vancouver, but we’ve tried to arrange everything to make you feel at home.” She began to cry. “I’m sorry, my darling child, but of all the possible futures I imagined for you, this wasn’t one I’d ever thought of.”

Sa’aan crooned to her mother, wishing that she still had arms to reach out and hug her, a hand to place at the back of her head to soothe her, “Hush. Mommy. It’s OK, really. It’s not what I’d expected, either, but I knew right away, as soon as I experienced that moment with the orcas, and with Leana and Nakia and even Mr. Jefferson, that something strange was happening, and that I was a part of it all, that I was at the center of it, and that all would be well. I didn’t fully understand it, even then, and I certainly don’t understand now. I even forgot the feeling for a while, because it was so far outside my experience, but now I’ve remembered again. I don’t know exactly where I’m going, but I do know that I’m on the path to freedom, and not just for myself, for all of us, and I know that love is at the heart of it. I love you, Mommy, and will love you forever. Whatever the future may bring us all, it will all be perfect.”

Her mother leaned her head against the plasteel tank and wept, while Leana came up behind her and hugged her close, “I wish I had your faith, my darling, but all I can see is separation and loss right now. I can’t even touch you any more!” she cried.

“But you will, Mommy, and soon. My powers are growing every day. I can already touch little things with my mind, and the more at home I become within this body the more my powers will grow. Just think, when I was a little boy, I dreamed of growing up big and strong and impressing you with my courage. But that was just a boy’s childish dream. Now I’m becoming a woman, just like Leana and you, and I’m strong and big far beyond my boyish dreams. Now is the time you have to stand aside a little and let me impress you with my courage. I’m growing up, dearest Mommy.”

“Oh! My darling boy, my dear daughter!” she cried, “You put me to shame!” She lowered her head and continued weeping.

“No, Mommy, you taught me well, and I learned this lesson at your knee. I’m your child and all that I am is part of you. Look at me closely; I’m all of one self and haven’t changed entirely. The same little boy who rode off wobbling and unsteady down the street on his first bicycle is here before you now. I’m letting go of fear. Just as I shouted back to you then, not so many years ago, ‘I’m flying!’ And here I am, flying.”

Leana added, her arms still wrapped around her mother, “She’s right, Mom. Whatever it was we experienced that day was all good. I think we each perceived whatever it was differently, but it was all good; I know that. I’m changed too, not as radically, but I changed inside. Surely you’ve noticed.”

Sa’aan reached out tentatively with her developing telekinetic power, half afraid since she’d never done this before, except with ping pong balls, stroking her mother’s hair lightly, smoothing it, “See, Mommy? It’s starting already. All will be well, and very well, you’ll see.”

Her mother looked up again and smiled tentatively, “The two of you are so very sure of yourselves, and I suppose you must be right; but I just wish I could see it as clearly as you seem to.”

Sa’aan said, “You’ll see, Mommy. You’ll see. Look! Out the left window, you can see the Floridian Islands already, off in the distance. We must be pretty high up now. Did you ever think that you’d see something like that with your own eyes? Did you ever imagine such an adventure?”

Leana turned and spoke aloud, “Mr. Jefferson? How high up are we now? We can see islands off in the distance.”

He turned, looked, and said, “About two thousand meters, my dear. There’s an altitude and heading display at the front of the hold and your BioLyncs can access the airship’s information channel if you’d like a running commentary, a chart of our course, and instantaneous estimated arrival times at each of our waypoints. I think the big island is Lafayette Island, and the one to the east of it is Elim Church Key. I can ask the navigator if you’d like a definitive answer.”

“That’s OK, thank you,” Leana said and then turned back to her mother. “You see, Mom? We’re heading into the biggest adventure you could ever imagine. We’re seeing things that we never would have seen in our lives. I know you and Dad didn’t feel it, but Campanella felt like a trap to me, cut off from the real world by our weather Elementals and stuck up in a mountain fastness like

Sa’aan looked at her sister with new respect. She understood now what she’d meant by her comment about being out of the ‘cushy, climate-controlled cage’, on that afternoon with the orcas.

Leana continued, “The title of the book, and of the movie, was sardonic in a way, because the European adventurers run away from a world in which horizons exist — while you’re flying the horizon is almost infinite, just as it is for us today — but they crash into a tiny place surrounded by mountains, and the infinite horizons they fled from are lost and can no longer be seen.”

“That’s it!” Sa’aan blurted out, “That’s part of what I felt that day! We have to be connected to the world. As Chimeræ, we share our genetic material and appearance with so-called animals. We’re all in this together and the world is working toward balance, with us or without us. Now I see what you meant as well, Leana! If we live inside a cage like Campanella, not even sharing our weather with the world, we’re abandoning the world to its fate in favor of our own comfort.”

“Exactly!” Leana said with a dismissive snort, “In Shangri-La, you can have peace and tranquility, you can live almost forever, but you can’t ever have a real life, because the minions of the dictatorial ‘Lama’ prevent it, and for every child born there someone has to die or leave, because there are no new houses. You’re stuck, as was Maria, in Shangri-La like a fly in amber, as if it were Superman’s

She grimaced. “In Shangri-La, you can’t heal the world as a whole, you can’t really do anything; all you can do is exist like a slug and contemplate your own navel. Even when Maria, the real heroine of the story, tries to persuade the others to escape, even when she dies as a martyr to freedom, knowing all the while that she’s walking to her death, but at the same time trying to free herself and the others from the tyranny of the crazy missionary priest, from the profoundly selfish idea of Shangri-La — which falsely elevates a cruel and callous indifference to the misery of the world to ‘mature wisdom’ while scorning compassion and action — the two dumb brothers don’t get it, village idiots both, nostalgic for their tidy little racist gated community that keeps the colored riffraff away from their white ‘betters.’ ”

Sa’aan said, “Like the Purists, the few that are left anyway, who hate the Chimed people, especially the hybrids, and act as if the ‘animals’ are too disgusting for the ‘real human beings’ to associate with.”

“Just so. Like the Purists, both of these contemptible brothers in the story try to escape from the present and retreat into the past. They abandon their hard-won freedom, their power to do good, and even their power to fail, at their earliest convenience. George finds real life too terribly difficult and kills himself, while Robert runs right back into the dead womb of Shangri-La as soon as he has the chance. Both are cowards, both run away from life, both refuse to live as free human beings, and both disappear from the real world forever.”

“You know,” their mother laughed, “I read that book not so long ago and don’t recall seeing it in quite that way. But that’s how it should be, I think. The longer I live, the happier I am to have children who challenge me every day to look at life as if I were young again. Thank you, Leana, Sa’aan. I’ll try not to be an old

Leana laughed as well. “You see, Mom? You’re sounding younger already! You actually used a modern slang word properly in context!”

Leana and Sa’aan’s mom wandered off to look out the windows, while Sa’aan did the same from her prominent position in the middle of the hold. It looked like they were still over Western Florida, headed toward Louisiana Bay, and the hills around Tallahassee had faded into marshlands and a skirt of islands and sandbars at the edge of the Gulf of Mexico. They weren’t high enough to see the curvature of the Earth, but it could be inferred from the round rim of sea horizon to the south, and the slightly bumpy rim of the coastal plain and piedmont to the north.

The airship crew had finished tidying up, replaced the tools and cables in storage lockers at the side of the hold, cleared the deck of debris, mopped up the water which had sloshed over the side of the tank during loading and lift off, and had disappeared into the upper regions of the airship. Mr. Jefferson waved his passengers toward the seats placed at one side of the hold, next to a plasteel window, saying, “If anyone is a little nervous about heights, they might want to sit in one of the seats on the aisle, but the view from the window seats is spectacular and there are enough for all. The seats are fully reclining, so they’re fairly comfortable for sleeping and I expect most of you will want to nap from time to time. The restrooms are located behind the aft bulkhead and are clearly marked, as well as a single facility for disabled access, which brings us to the rest of the official announcements.” He made a wry face, “Don’t blame me, folks, I have to say this when I have passengers aboard.”

He took up a position near the small group and began, “Can I have your attention, please? The Federal Aviation Authority has asked that we make this announcement: Please fasten your seat belts whenever you’re seated, and remain seated as much as possible, as the airship may experience turbulence without warning. Likewise, if the captain has to maneuver suddenly to avoid other aircraft or large birds, the cabin may tilt suddenly. This happens very rarely, but it could happen on this flight, so please keep your wits about you and know where you plan to grab a handhold if the airship does something you don’t expect. In the event of an emergency, the Captain will ask you to take your seats and fasten your seatbelts.” Here, he held up a tiny seatbelt as a prop, inserting the tongue into the buckle several times, in case anyone didn’t know what a seatbelt looked like or what it did. “Please comply with these instructions immediately because they’re issued for your safety. In case of a water landing, there are Coast Guard-rated survival suits and life preservers in the clearly marked lockers on the aft bulkhead,” he gestured behind his audience in stylized manner, pointing to a row of three lockers outlined in fluorescent yellow and black, identified on their doors as ‘SURVIVAL SUITS, LARGE;’ ‘SURVIVAL SUITS: SMALL;’ and ‘LIFE PRESERVERS’ in glowing white bioluminescent letters against black. “Beside each of the two cargo doors,” he gestured again, using the same hand motions, with three fingers used as a pointer, “one on either side of the hold, is a clearly-marked yellow handle that can be pulled to open the door and automatically release an emergency exit chute.” These too were outlined, but in fluorescent red against black, and identified as ‘PULL FOR EXIT.’ The doors themselves were labeled ‘CAUTION! CARGO DOOR’ in the same bioluminescent white against black, with the opening itself outlined in bioluminescent blue, obviously designed to make orientation easy, even in total darkness and confusion. Beneath each caution was a smaller sign suggesting that opening the door in flight should only be performed by crew members equipped with safety harnesses properly attached to the marked tie-off points provided on each side of the door. “When the door is open and the exit chute deployed, you’ll be able to see a green lever to release and inflate the life rafts. One or more crew members should be present to handle these tasks but it’s possible for anyone of normal strength to perform them on their own. If you feel that you are not able to perform these tasks, please ask someone to perform them for you. It’s impossible for the airship itself to sink, as it has more than ample passive flotation, but the hold might conceivably flood with water, so it’s important to exit immediately when advised to do so. And that concludes our mandatory safety instructions.”

Mr. Jefferson visibly relaxed and continued, “Please don’t be alarmed, folks. In all the time I’ve owned this business, we’ve never had an emergency landing, and statistics prove that airships are the safest form of travel, so I wouldn’t be overly concerned if I were you.”

“We’ll be traveling, weather permitting, almost directly west across the continent, to the San Diego Ærodrome in Canada, and will land and refuel there. Although much of our power is solar, of course, we do consume significant amounts of hydrogen at night and during cloudy weather. We’re bonded, so we won’t have to clear customs, although the local agents sometimes drop in to observe and ask a few questions. From San Diego, we’ll head up the West Coast to Vancouver, for a total air distance of a little more than 2800 nautical miles.”

“It depends largely on the weather,” he answered. “If we were traveling in a dead calm, the trip would take just about three full days, including refueling time on the ground. But we expect to shave at least a day off that by using prevailing winds to boost our speed. On the other hand, if the winds were against us, it might add a day or more. We can’t safely fly in large storm systems, so we’ll land and anchor the airship if a storm blows up unexpectedly, but the current projections are good, and we expect to dock at Vancouver Ærodrome about this time the day after tomorrow.”

Her mother asked, “Why are we going all the way to San Diego first? Wouldn’t it make more sense to fly directly to Vancouver?”

Mr. Jefferson had obviously answered these questions many times before, because he answered with the same sort of ease and confidence that Sa’aan’s father displayed when he was ‘in the groove,’ “We do try to avoid flying over the Rocky Mountains, since alpine updrafts and shifting winds can cause large and uncomfortable motions of the airship. It’s true that we could save more than 700 nautical miles by flying as close to the beeline as possible, but the risks aren’t worth the slight savings in distance. Also, this particular airship isn’t rated for high-altitude travel and therefore isn’t pressurized, so we prefer to stay a little closer to the ground than the stratocruisers you’ve probably heard of. They’re used primarily as earth sciences or astronomical observation platforms — although a few are fitted as luxury liners for people with more free time and spare money than they know what to do with — and often stay up for months on end, whereas we have schedules to keep and cargo to carry, wherever we go. Our customers would prefer that we don’t dally about up in the sky while they’re waiting for a delivery,” he smiled.

“The other alternative would be to fly up and across the Great Plains, stop at Calgary Ærodrome for refueling, and then zigzag over the lower ranges of the Canadian Rockies near Sparwood, Cranbrook, and Creston, but that’s a dicey route at the best of times, and at the end of summer, what with the possibility of thunderstorms over the Plains, and then the chance of storms in the mountains, we prefer the southern route.”

“And by taking this path, we’ll be able to see the Grand Canyon. Y’all ought to know, that everybody ought to see the Grand Canyon from the air and not too many folks do nowadays, since air travel for passengers is limited by law. We have permission to go down to 200 feet, as a special favor to the lovely Ms. Sa’aan, and through the incomparable Ms. Inconnu’s special arrangement with Mexican air traffic control, because this will probably be her last chance to experience the real thing, unmediated by vid screens or other second-hand retellings of the physical experience.”

“I can’t imagine whose arm Nakia twisted to make this happen,” he said, “since we’ve never been able to go lower than one thousand feet on our own initiative and I’m pretty good at twisting arms myself. I imagine the tourists on the ground will love it, though. Not all that many people have ever seen a large airship close up.”

Sa’aan had never seen one at all, although now that she knew that airships usually avoided mountainous areas, she could guess the reason they didn’t visit Campanella. And now I’m in the belly of one, like Jonah, like Captain Ahab wedded to his great white whale. The irony of her situation wasn’t lost on her.

After the initial excitement of traveling in an airship, boredom set in, as it does on almost any long trip in close quarters. Although nobody plaintively whined, ‘Are we there yet?’ the passengers got tired of standing by the plasteel windows or, for the daring, standing on the clear floor panels and staring straight down, as if suspended in midair. Leana dared, of course, and compared the leap of faith required to that of the famous firewalkers of Borneo. It was one thing, she said, to believe in physics, and quite another to trust it. Mr. Jefferson hardly noticed, and walked across the panels as if they were a piece of the floor, while her mother and Nakia walked up to the edge, but didn’t step over onto the clear surface. It was one thing, Nakia said, to trust physics and quite another to risk future death through sheer stupidity by ignoring the evidence of one’s senses in the present. Leana chuffed in irritation; she hated being made to look like a

To Sa’aan, the difference between the pieces of the floor — or deck she supposed — were inconsequential. Just being here was a leap of faith. She was completely helpless, out of her depth you might say, and profoundly dependent on the kindness and care of others. Without the protection of the tank, she would slowly asphyxiate as the weight of her body collapsed her lungs, and without the refrigeration unit and cooling water around her body, her own body heat would eventually bring on heatstroke and death. As they flew on into the sunset, the drone of the engines and the endless flat waters, salt marshes, and coastal plains of Western Florida and Louisiana Bay all blurred together, causing most of the passengers to slouch in their seats, napping, or to recline them fully and sleep. But the airship flew on through the sky as if held within an invisible subway tube, resembling in its way a tiny humming moon orbiting the Earth beneath.

Sa’aan actually needed no sleep in the human sense, and indeed couldn’t sleep entirely lest she drown, even in her travel tank, but could allow one of her brains to sleep and dream while the other stayed awake, so she spent her time thinking about the journey while the others dozed. She thought of a quote from an early American writer, Henry David Thoreau, that her civics instructor had used to illustrate his exposition of Manifest Destiny:

She remembered her sister referring obliquely to the same quote, which was understandable, since they’d had the same civics teacher, not to mention their Classics professor father, and here in front of her were those same Hesperidean gardens, the cloud-topped towers and mountains glowing red and gold, promising something as yet unimaginable to her, but its outline becoming gradually clearer as they arrowed toward the clouds.

Eventually, night fell and they hummed along in darkness, punctuated from time to time with the lights of a solitary farm or the transport carriers clustered around a harvestbot, or the massed lights of a city. Sa’aan used her BioLync to access the airship’s information channel when she saw a warm glow in the sky which turned into a large city, radiant with light and motion, contrasting with the thinnest sliver of the waning moon high in the clear night sky. She picked up the map and audio commentary in time to hear that it was the seaside resort town of Santa Anna, Tejas, the largest Mexican city east of the San Antonio River, and that they’d been traveling for a little less than ten hours. She was pleased that her ocular implants worked so easily and well, another barrier in her new life falling away as the miles fell behind her.

Leana eventually stirred in one of the seats, which she’d reclined to make a narrow bed. Out the windows, Sa’aan could see hills and sharp canyons, dry and sere in the early morning light. Leana walked up to the ladies room and disappeared inside, reëntering the hold after a few minutes and walking over to where Sa’aan floated, unblinking.

“Hi, Mei-mei. Did you have a good night? Where are we? Is there any breakfast?”

“Hi Jie-Jie. I’ve been fine but I don’t know about the breakfast. I imagine they’ll have something like the box dinners last night. I don’t plan to eat because, despite the filters and ærators in this little tank, I don’t fancy the idea of relieving myself in my bathwater. I have enough body mass now that a few days of fasting won’t do me any harm. As clever as they were in designing this thing, I don’t believe they thought that part out all that thoroughly. They had a better water flow in the therapy tank, and much better filtration, plus a ready source of fresh water of course, but I can hardly wait to be in open water.”

“Eeew! I don’t think I want to know that much detail, although I’m really, really sorry. And here I was just complaining to myself about the Spartan toilet facilities.”

“It’s OK. I planned for this when they told me how long the journey would be, and I’m supposed to get a change of water in San Diego. But I’m so glad that Mr. Jefferson offered us this ‘express’ trip, not only because of the views and the excitement of being up in the air, but because a trip by freighter through the NorthWest Passage would have been pure misery, weeks in this narrow tank instead of days. As for our location, the sun is rising behind us and we’ve just left the Tejas flatlands. There’s a huge narrow lake below us in a winding valley…,” Sa’aan used her BioLync interface to simultaneously access the airship’s information channel again and continued without pause “…named Ute Lake, famous for a substantial fishery as well as a source of water for the surrounding communities, including Albuquerque, Nuevo Mexico a little south and west of here. We’re nineteen and a half hours out of Tallahassee with about five hours before we get to the Grand Canyon, currently to the northwest of us. So, seeing as how we’re in vaquero country, let’s see if’n we can rustle you up some grub.”

She used the BioLync interface again to call Mr. Jefferson, who’d gone up to the ‘bridge’ to do some work late yesterday afternoon and hadn’t reappeared. He answered right away.

“And a good morning to you, sir. My sister was wondering if she could have some breakfast, and I imagine the others will be ready soon.”

“Of course. I’ll have the crew start the preparation, and I’ll be down directly. Please ask Leana to be patient.”

“I’ll do that, Mr. Jefferson, and thank you so much for all you’ve done for me and for my family.”

“The pleasure is all mine, dear lady. I gained much from our shared experience that day, both in wisdom and in power. I’ll be forever in your debt.”

“Even so, thank you so very much. I’ll tell everyone that a little

She addressed her sister again, “Well, Mr. Jefferson said they’d start preparing breakfast, and it sounds like it’s going to be a little more than the box meals you had last night.”

“That sounds like a great idea. If it doesn’t work, I could splash a little water on them. That ought to get them up.” She laughed mentally, and could feel her sister respond in kind.

“Please! Not just yet. Mom’s much worse than I am when she gets wet and I don’t know how Nakia might take it, considering her ancestry. We’ll save that for a last resort.”

As it turned out, splashing wasn’t necessary. Leana’s movements, not terribly startling, soon had everyone up, more or less refreshed, and looking again at the landscape, which had become much more interesting. They were flying over desert buttes and canyons, interspersed with the rich green ribbons of narrow river canyons, and the occasional reservoir, when Mr. Jefferson arrived with two of the crew, who efficiently brought out a table, covered it in white linen, and laid out a nice buffet. There were bowls of fresh fruit, dispensers of cereals, baskets of bagels, pan dulce, and Vienna rolls, together with various spreads, two covered platters with hot tortillas, and two hot pans for Crêpes, omelets and other egg dishes, efficiently prepared by one of the crew. Mr. Jefferson waved expansively at the small feast. “Y’all can see,” he said, “we’re not so far from civilization, even way up here in the middle of the air.”

“It’s marvelous, Richard,” Nakia enthused, and it looks so delicious! But you didn’t have to go to such trouble!”

“It’s actually not much trouble, other than carrying it down from the galley, and I didn’t plan it. This is the crew’s home, seven days on, seven days off, for a large part of their lives, and they try to have at least two full meals a day with a great variety of foods. As you’ve seen, there are long periods of boredom associated with freight hauling, and nice food helps pass the time. The company provides a food allowance, and it’s up to the crew to decide how to spend it, with each crew member taking it in turn, or sometimes as pairs, to plan and prepare the meal. They have quite a competition to prepare the nicest meals in rotation, so the meals are usually excellent. I’ve shared crew meals that rival those served at the best restaurants down on the ground, as I’m sure you can tell from this example. All I did was provide an extra bit of money, to cover the cost of our meals, and whichever member of the airship’s company whose turn it was planned and shopped for the meal on their own, to make a pleasant surprise for the rest of the crew as well as ourselves. Our breakfast today was planned and served by Relief Captain Aziz, here preparing a perfectly authentic dish of

After they’d finished eating, most of Sa’aan’s party wandered around the hold, from plasteel window to floor portal and back again, exclaiming at the bright red and orange and yellow, and even lavender colors of the cliffs and peaks below. Once, they passed right by what looked like an extinct volcano, gigantic in extent, with a central peak, and it turned out to be Valles Caldera, and not extinct at all, but alive with an active array of geothermal vents, hot springs, and fumaroles scattered around the base and crater of the ancient eruptions.

Later, they passed over a forbidding landscape of broken rock and lava, the Zuni-Bandera lava field, according to the information channel, last active not more than three thousand years ago. They deduced from this that the entire area had at once been very dangerous, the site of massive eruptions and lava flows that were staggering to contemplate as they flew over it, mile after mile of it, for hours.

And then they saw Glen Cañon, off in the distance, a huge slash in the landscape that angled in from the right, and then they were over the canyon, following it as it twisted and wound through the rocky plateau, when suddenly the sound of a gong focused their attention away from the windows and back toward the front of the hold, where the table was now covered in red linen and Mr. Jefferson was holding forth at the center of yet another feast.

As they walked toward the table, they could see that the various dishes had little signs off to the side describing them. A large covered pot of soup was labeled ‘Corn and leek bisque,’ and an open salad bowl and ice evidently contained ‘Baby California spinach tossed in warm balsamic shallot vinaigrette with yellow pear tomatoes, and Guatemalan queso blanco.’ A covered chafing dish held ‘Raviolli Fiorentina with southern beetroot and gravy’ while several ice buckets contained what looked like champagne, with iced dishes of strawberries, grapes, and other fruit around them. The little sign read, ‘Veuve Clicquot La Grande Dame Champagne Brut, vintage 2266, served with coolhouse strawberries and assorted fruits.’ On a separate platter, there were elegant and dainty cubes of decorated chocolate labeled ‘Petits fours aux noix.’ In the center of the presentation was a large bowl of flowers — roses, several kinds of lillies, freesias, red cockscombs, trachelliums, hypericums, ferns and other greens.

Sa’aan’s mother exclaimed, “Mr. Jefferson, Richard, you’ve surpassed yourself this time. This is just delightful, even if we only stand and admire it!”

“One’s first trip over the canyon deserves a memorable meal,” he said modestly, “and I took special pains to ensure it.

Leana asked, “I know what petits fours are, but what does ‘aux noix’ mean?”

“Ahh!” he sighed, “a fellow admirer of the ‘eat dessert first’ school of dining. ‘Aux noix’ is ‘with nuts’ to you, black walnuts in this case. It’s a recipe passed down from my great-grandmother, and very tasty indeed. Very memorable, unlike many of the insipid petits fours one encounters in ordinary establishments. The champagne is a favorite of mine, and ’66 was a very good year. The strawberries and fruits were actually grown in Georgia, but sheltered by specially insulated coolhouses to prevent dehydration and loss of flavor from the heat of summer. They’re quite delicious, the equal of anything you’ll find in the Yukon or Baffin Bay. But please, welcome to my table.” At that, he gave a slight but courtly bow to all the ladies, ever the Southern gentleman.

Two of the crew stood by with large serving carts, and as he served out the various dishes he asked them to place them on the carts rather than balance them precariously. When they’d each made their selections , the carts were trundled off to their seats, which had been arranged with a swiveling tray alongside, so they could dine comfortably and still see the river below.

The food was delicious, and the champagne superb, according to everyone but Sa’aan, who was necessarily abstemious. Even Leana thought so, and she didn’t usually care all that much for the taste of wine. All too soon, the meal was over, down to the last petit four, and Mr. Jefferson asked them all to rise and come to the forward window, pouring out a fresh glass of champagne for each. Just ahead, the canyon walls rose sharply and the river, once not far below the rim, fell away into a chasm cut deeply into the Earth.

Mr. Jefferson raised his own glass in a toast, “Ladies, the Grand Canyon, ancient of days, lies before you as very few have seen it except in vids and photographs,” as they swept over the rim and stared down toward the river far below. The scale of the canyon was immense, almost beyond comprehension, and their own airship, which had seemed so huge when they’d boarded it in Tallahassee, seemed more like a child’s toy balloon, carelessly let slip from a tiny hand, and adrift on the wind above a landscape fit only for giants. “To friendship,” he concluded, “and to dear friends.”

Sa’aan, alone in her tank, looked on and out and down, breathing at long intervals, eyes squinted against the light, her pupils moving separately, or focusing directly ahead, as she gathered in the prodigious panorama around her.

The ærodrome stood out from the surrounding desert as a dozen widely spaced rings of concrete around a dozen mooring masts thrust up into the sky like a strange orchard of orderly jackstraws. At a few moorings, other airships swung captive, bows headed into the prevailing wind. Their own airship made a one hundred and eighty degree turn and sailed slowly toward a mast without a current tenant and dropped two long lines from the nose, easily visible well in front of the forward window of the hold as they fell twisting toward the ground far below, where a heavy tractor soon snagged them both and immediately handed off one to a second tractor, which took it and moved off to one side. The two tractors immediately began winching in the nose of the airship, centering it and bringing it down to the docking connector on the mast, both at the same time, in a graceful choreography of efficient coördination only possible for monomaniacal AIs, quite limited in their general repertoire but autistic savants in their dedicated field.

Leana had gone to a plasteel window and looked out, without comment, but her mother had remained seated, reading something on her BioLync, explaining in response to a crewman’s question that she’d been in San Diego before and hadn’t been impressed the first time.

When the connection was made, the tractors let go of the ropes and they were rapidly pulled back up into whatever recess they’d fallen from. Shortly thereafter, the crew came down in their hardhats and opened the cargo door at the left side of the hold. Quickly, they scrambled down a stair which had evidently been rolled up to the door before it had opened and began hauling an insulated hose laying at the edge of the concrete landing ring in toward the airship, to which they connected it with a dull metallic sound. One of the crew than turned a valve and Sa’aan could hear the hissing of gas as it flowed through the hose into the ship. Despite the thick insulation, the hose gathered a fog of condensation around it which instantly froze into a crust of snow. But the crew had already rolled out another large hose, this one affixed to a large cylindrical subway tank balanced on a local transport truck, and connected it to a fitting at the front of Sa’aan’s tank.

She supposed that this was her promised change of water and, in fact, one of the crew, the one she now recognized as Relief Captain Aziz, assured her that this was so, and told her that she begged her pardon for the unceremonious intrusion, but they had only a limited amount of time on the ground to handle all the necessary tasks before their departure. Ærodromes, it seemed, charged by the hour for ‘parking’ in addition to their other service charges so the airship was in almost constant motion from the time they left their own base in Virginia until they returned at the end of a voyage. The blue hardhat crew took hold of yet another, larger hose handed up from below by a yellow-hat crew she supposed worked for the aerodrome, snaked it across the deck and connected it to another fitting at the rear of the tank. Once the connections were made, a bluehatted woman she didn’t recognize went over every hose and fitting, testing them and making small notations on a palmtop as she went along, evidently checking every step, and then gave the order to open two valves, one on each end of the tank, which began the process of completely replacing the stale water in the travel tank with fresh water, evidently impelled by a powerful pump, since she could feel the rapid current on her skin. She took this opportunity to void her bladder and colon, which was a relief in several senses. While this was going on, two more bluehats rigged an extension of the overhead crane track through the door, moved the same winch that had lifted her on board through the opening and into the space above the landing pad, and started offloading what looked like a bin of recycling materials, and then a smaller drum of liquids that she presumed was waste to be processed separately. Then the same crewmembers performed the operation in reverse, uploading a small refrigerated container which they quickly hauled up into the interior of the hold, and almost without pause unhooked from it and wheeled it onto a lift from whence it rose smoothly into the mysterious upper decks of the airship. She guessed that it was fresh food to replace that eaten on the voyage, or perhaps just fresh local specialties.

Soon enough, they were done, the valves closed and the hoses disconnected from her tank, and the flurry of activity was gone as if it had never been. Then, suddenly, the connector on the mooring mast released and they were bobbing upward, lifting toward the sky as the engines roared and the airship came under power again, not quite the ceremonious international entry, with customs officials and formal documents, that Sa’aan had foreseen.

Dinner that night was another boxed meal, although Mr. Jefferson apologized on behalf of the crew for the lack of enough free hours between their activities on the ground and time for supper to prepare a proper meal.

For a long time they traveled parallel to the invisible shore off to her left, but eventually approached the beach toward what she saw on the BioLync channel was Palos Verdes Island, separated from what remained of the city of Long Beach for almost fifty-five years now, following the rapid collapse of the Greenland and West Antarctic ice sheets.

And then they were over the ocean, the enormous expanse of the Pacific opening up before her like coming out of a dense forest onto an open plain, grey-green water as far as the eye could see, the Channel Islands clustered at the edge like a few boulders half-buried in a sea of grass. For the first time since her journey began she felt safe, sheltered by the immensity of cool water below her, the promise of life-giving buoyancy and the safest of safe havens.

After a while, Leana and her mother came over to the tank and stood beside her as they all gazed out into the vast watery horizon and the reddening sun crept lower in the cloudless sky. Neither of them said a word, awed both by the ocean and the unspoken knowledge that here in front of them was the true dividing line between their own lives, tied to the land, and her future life, the life for which her transformed body was designed, cradled by salt water and nourished by the sea.

They looked, and then the brilliant sun approached the horizon, rapidly flattening from a perfect disk into something just a little squashed, with wavy edges where once had been a perfect sphere, distorting into ever more baroque layers, alternately brighter and darker like a solar torte Genoise.

But as the twisted sun touched and then slid below the pristine horizon, the flattened layers disappearing one by one, just as the last tiny speck of it disappeared, there was a brilliant flash of green.

Sa’aan answered, reflexively opening a BioLync connection so that her mother could hear her reply, “A Green Flash, and a small miracle. They’re very rare at this latitude. I can’t help feeling that it’s good luck.”

The night passed slowly for Sa’aan, as she was anxious to arrive, longing to see the Georgia Strait, her parent’s new home on a hill above the water, and her pool. Her father had sent pictures, but she’d resisted the temptation to look at them, preferring to wait to savor the real experience rather than glancing at a vid. The pool opened, her mother had said, onto English Bay, only lightly sheltered from the winds off the sound, and a constant flow of fresh salt water was maintained by a large solar array and pump, separate from the house array and powerful enough to sweep any soil or debris out the inlet and on into the sound.

Vancouver Polyversity, her father’s new employer, was just up the road, closely associated with the University of British Columbia, and both campuses were located on the same hill, even shared some classrooms and professors, so her father planned to bicycle to work and was delighted to have a chance to associate with a broad range of academic disciplines. “Nothing like it,” he’d said in a BioLync conversation just before they’d left Tallahassee, “Colorado Polyversity was a little stodgy for my taste, and far too provincial. We even have an Asian Center on campus, which will be a wonderful opportunity to brush up on our Chinese and Japanese. I plan to audit a few classes myself.”

So she had a vision in her mind’s eye, and now only waited to see how closely the vision matched reality.

In the morning, the port-side watch, consisting of two Petty Officers named Wu and Pham, provided a breakfast of fresh spring rolls, sweet and savory congees, crullers, dim sum, and fresh fruit, including several kinds of melons. As usual, the three guests pronounced it delicious, and passed a pleasant hour snacking on dim sum and ‘fried devils’ dipped in congee.

By the time they were finished, the airship was sweeping in off the ocean and over the Olympic Peninsula, the high mountains on their left, as they passed over the low wooded slopes of the coastal range, giving way to farmlands in the valley and then onto the broad reach of Puget Sound. Most of the islands here rose steeply from the water, so the shorelines hadn’t changed to the extent they had in Florida and the other states bordering the Gulf, but Sa’aan noticed a few skeletal structures poking up from the water, either too worthless to move as the waters slowly rose or simply abandoned for more likely properties.

And then they were over the San Juan Islands, one of them named ‘Orcas Island’, as she noted on her windowed BioLync display, and then out over open water again, heading for a low wooded hill in the middle distance, just below a higher mountain she knew was located on the other side of English Bay.

And then they were there, angling sharply into the wind to hold the airship stationary over the domed house she saw below, gradually sinking downward toward the pool, whose outline she could see already. The pavilion, similar to that used for her therapy pool, had already been dismantled and there was a temporary mooring mast erected for the airship, to simplify the process of unloading. There were no tractors, however; that task was undertaken by the green hardhat crew, whom the airship crew had called the ‘chase crew.’ They were almost as skilled as the AI-driven tractors, and the ship soon swung at her mooring.

Since she knew what to expect, Sa’aan wasn’t surprised when the blue hardhats appeared on the heads of the crew, the passengers had been herded away from the action, and the travel tank was hooked up to the winch. With a little lurch, the winch took the strain and the hatch below her opened. The quiet hum of the propellers turned into a roar and her little tank was lowered rapidly and directly into the pool, the airship falling away above her. And suddenly she was floating free, the tank settling to the bottom beneath her, and with a flick of her powerful flukes she angled away from the hoisting cables and over to the side. She looked around curiously as the crew raised the travel tank and cradle, setting them into place on a concrete pad obviously prepared for them, although she sincerely hoped never to use either again. They then brought up the hoist and quickly lowered two large shipping containers, one at a time, the ones she’d noticed at the back of the hold, placing them on similar pads, and then disconnected from the mooring mast. For safety reasons, her mother, sister, and Nakia would have to wait to disembark at the Vancouver Ærodrome, about an hour away by subway and flivver, so she didn’t expect to see them for a while.

Her father was standing at the far end of the pool wearing a white hardhat that marked him as someone the green hats had to look out for. He looked a little lost in the midst of so much activity. They both waited for the activity to be over, and soon enough it was. The mooring mast was dismantled and packed away in the chase trucks, the pavilion cover re-erected, and silence settled over the pool.

Her father started walking toward her. He’d placed his hardhat on a small table next to the pool. She could feel everything, the motion of the water, the shifting play of the cool wind through the low plantings around the pool, the warmth where the air touched her dorsal fin, the lure of other people, at least the distant sounds they made going about their daily lives above her and farther up the shore, and even, in her imagination, the cool pull of the dark moon beneath her, on the other side of the Earth, balanced by the hot attraction of the sun almost directly overhead. “Well,” she said to her father, “I’m home.”

Chapter Six — Many Meetings

At the edge of the tent that covered the pool, a seagull carefully inspected the coping at the exit to the bay before flying off. Beyond, out on the open water, a cormorant alternately bobbed and dove under the swells. Aware of these activities, Sa’aan was also talking silently with her father when there was a sudden eruption of noise up on the hill, as Leana burst out from under the house and scrambled down the stairway that ran down the steep slope.

“How do you like the pool? Daddy pulled a few strings to get permission to build an encroachment on the shoreline, but I think Nakia helped move things along by invoking the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms. And since the land is basically owned by UBC, they were only too pleased to waive any objections. You’re a local celebrity, you know; they’ve been running a daily update on the newsvids.”

“Of course!” You’re the first human hybridized with a large marine mammal anywhere in the world that we know of. The Purists have been having fits, and the Japanese have lodged a formal complaint with the UN, claiming that it’s all a transparent attempt to limit their ‘scientific’ taking of whales for ‘research’ into how they taste.”

“They eat whales?” This hadn’t been covered in middle school civics lessons.

“Oh, yeah. But nobody hunts killer whales, except aquariums and water parks. They’re top predators, so they concentrate too many toxins washed down from the land or something, even after all these years. Let’s go for a swim! I can’t wait to show you what I’ve learned. My gear’s in the locker over by the containers.”

By this time, Nakia and her mother had arrived at the edge of the pool. Her mother said, “Why don’t you kids go ahead and have fun. The old fogies among us can amuse ourselves for a while, one supposes. I must have put my knitting somewhere around here….” She mimed looking around, “Simon? Have you seen my old rocking chair?” She smiled at them, out in the pool, and waved them on. “Go on. Shoo!” Simon, as always, looked slightly bemused.

Sa’aan could hardly contain herself between wanting to be polite and wait for her sister to finish the interminable process of putting on her scuba gear, and wanting to be out and into the Bay.

At long last, Leana fell backward into the water, now fully outfitted in wetsuit, vest, tank, mask, snorkel, long fins and other exotic paraphernalia Sa’aan didn’t recognize. She began stroking out into the bay with economical movements of her powerful legs, hands trailing idly, but Sa’aan caught up with her in an instant, saying, “Grab on!” as she paused for a moment beside Leana, who lazily reached up to the front of her dorsal fin with one hand, using the other to scull herself closer to her side.

With a strong surge of power, Sa’aan brought her flukes to bear on the sea around her, and they were off with a rush, Leana easily accommodating their speed as Sa’aan leapt repeatedly half out of the water, partially to reduce the water’s drag on her forward motion, and partly for the sheer fun of it. In what seemed like just a few minutes, they were half-way across the Bay, the ships lying at anchor off to their left falling behind them. Sa’aan slowed to an easy pace, slightly winded by her exertion, and Leana said, “Whoohoo! Not bad for a first trip! How fast do you think we were traveling?”

Sa’aan looked around, then checked her embedded BioLync interface for the time and distance. “English Bay is a little less than four miles across, and it took us a bit under seven minutes to reach the middle of it. Seventeen knots, I’d say, and my BioLync agrees. I think I could have done better but I was a little worried about washing you off my back. Can you hang out up here for a minute?”

“Just watch.” She took a deep breath, raised her flukes, and angled sharply toward the bottom whose contours she could sense far below after ‘pinging’ with her built-in echolocation sensorium. The more often she ‘pinged,’ the more details were revealed, gradually building up a complete picture, almost like focusing a camera. The bottom was littered with an incredible amount of junk, with mud softening the outlines of much of it, old ropes and chains, bottles and cans, a boat with a large hole in the side, and a bunch of stuff deteriorated into almost formless shapes in the mud that she couldn’t readily identify.

Unlike her vision, which covered a wide range but had two central cores of concentration, the image she held of the sound picture was fully three-dimensional, with a slight increase in detail toward the direction she was facing. She could still ‘see’ Leana, up on the surface, and flipped back along her glide path, putting on a little effort as she rose toward the surface and leapt well free of the water, flopping onto her belly with an enormous splash.

“Whoof!” she said to Leana, for whom she’d performed her leap. “Next time, I’d better rethink my landing. That way smarts just a bit.”

“OK. Sounds easy enough. Just let me get set, and adjust my buoyancy compensator. I don’t want to float free on the way down or up.”

“It’s the little vest I’m wearing,” she gestured toward her colorful vest. “Did you think it was just a fashion statement?”

“My fur traps a lot of water and air, depending on how long I’ve been in the water, and the suit I’m wearing is an insulator, which means that air and water don’t move very quickly through it, plus, the tanks are heavy, so the vest has an integrated rail system to hold them firmly in place and distribute the load, especially when I’m out of the water. I’m wearing swim fins that float and integrated adjustable weights that sink. So my weight varies as water displaces the air and the tanks empty, since they take up the same amount of space even as the air is exhausted. Archimedes’ Principle, remember? To swim easily underwater, I need to be fairly neutral in buoyancy, so I neither sink nor float to the surface, and well-balanced hydrodynamically, so I don’t have to struggle to maintain a level swimming position. I’ve had the vest set to just a little above neutral bouyancy so far, because I’m easily strong enough to hold on when we stick pretty close to the surface, but when you dive, I want to be a little heavy, so it’s easier for me to stay close to your back and control my position. To do that, I have to let a little air out of the BC.”

“What about your mask?” Sa’aan maneuvered to look closely. “How do you keep the water from leaking through your fur and the air from getting out?”

“That’s just a really clever invention, since there are lots of furry people around nowadays. It’s called a static mask and has a tiny bioelectric power source in it that generates a fairly strong electrostatic charge. Together with the short hairs on my face and around my eyes, and a special conditioner I have to apply before wearing the mask, the field controls the leakage to the point that I just have to exhale a little air through my nose from time to time to keep up with the inevitable trickle of droplets that squeak by. People with supposedly ‘hairless’ faces have the same problem, though to a lesser degree, because almost all skin has some hairs on it, except for people like Daddy, and like you used to be; mine are just more luxurious and sensual than most people’s are, that’s all.” She preened a little.

“Of course,” she said, continuing smoothly mentally as she fitted her mouthpiece, “Lions are top predators on the land, just as orcas are top predators in the sea. When you really are number one, it’s unseemly to be overly modest.”

Sa’aan couldn’t see her face clearly, what with the mask and all, but she knew the Leana was grinning.

This time, she planned the leap more carefully, since she would feel terrible if anything happened to her sister because she overlooked something. She took a careful look around on the surface, and then submerged to capture a fresh underwater stereogram in her mind’s eye. Seeing no danger with either sense, she sculled over to her sister and said, “Ok, we’re ready. Grab on and remember that I’ll twist to the left, so try to stay on top as we land. I know you’re pretty tough, but getting slammed between the water and my body might be a little rough, even on you.”

“Pretty tough? Make that plenty tough. But I’ll stay out of your way anyway. I wouldn’t want to poke you with my tank or anything.”

“Shur-ah, Jie-jie. Here we go,” Leana held on as before, and Sa’aan dove steeply downward and then angled up again, stepping up her power as she rose toward and through the surface, this time rising almost twenty feet into the air before twisting aside, careful not to dislodge her sister, and crashing down to the sea in a tremendous splash.

“Jing-tsai, Mei-mei! That was too much fun!” Leana exulted in the spray still raining down around them. “Hello, we seem to have company coming over to check us out.” She nodded toward two large orcas porpoising in their general direction.

Sa’aan had noticed the approach of two large male orcas at the same time Leana had, and didn’t know whether to be worried or not. She knew that with her enhanced strength, she could probably outrun them, since she had a head start, but she didn’t want to establish a precedent that would keep her fearful and out of the Strait of Georgia proper. So she waited, cautioning her sister to climb fully onto her back and sit in front of her dorsal fin,.

“I’m not worried, Mei-mei,” she replied. “I’ve got a trick or two of my own if they decide to get playful. My teeth aren’t as big, but I have claws as well as teeth, and we’re both wicked strong. Between us, I think we could persuade these fellows to look for other dance partners if they do anything rude or annoying.”

“I think so too, but it doesn’t hurt to be cautious. They’re pretty darned big, at least twenty-six feet or more. I’m fairly confident that I could outrun them if it came to a race, but I don’t want to be both ‘the new kid on the block’ and a ‘pushover.’ ”

They were closing fast, porpoising along on the surface at high speed, just as Sa’aan herself had done on her way out into the bay. She swam leisurely, angled slightly away from a direct approach, but near enough that they could see that she was mildly curious about them, and not intimidated. The slight angle made it easier to keep track of their movements as well. As they approached, they vocalized with various complex patterns that spanned the entire spectrum from the ultrasonic to the subsonic, but these were all gibberish to Sa’aan, so she made no reply other than the occasional echolocation click or buzz.

This obviously puzzled them, and they swirled to a stop about thirty feet away, one of them spy-hopping to look carefully at the two strange intruders, and both of them maintaining a constant stream of what must have been some sort of communication between them. But it might as well have been ancient Khohisan, as far as Sa’aan could tell.

Then one of them swam up to place himself directly in front of her, and began a very complex and rapid series of double vocalizations that didn’t make sense at first, but then started to build a three-dimensional picture in her head, just as her perception of her own echolocation pings had on her dives. Gradually, she recognized her own image, in exquisite detail, with a rather more crude representation of Leana on her back. She nodded vigorously, completely unsure what this might mean in the orca repertoire, and reached out with her mind to try to project a feeling of friendship toward the newcomers, and her own close relationship with her sister. She spoke to her sister in an aside at the same time, “They’re curious about us, especially you, and seem to be quite puzzled by the fact that I don’t speak their language, whatever it is. They can draw three-dimensional pictures in my mind using modified echo-location pings, so we might be able to communicate, after a fashion, if I could just figure out how they do it. I’m sure I sound like an idiot to them, since all I’ve been able to do so far is to grunt and nod my head. I suspect that ‘Me, Jane, you Tarzan One and Two’ just isn’t going to cut it.”

“Shur-ah! If you could help give them a general idea that we’re both intelligent and friendly, that might help. But for the life of me I don’t know how that’s going to work. Their brains work along different lines than human brains; I can tell that already, and I have a lifetime of bad habits to overcome, at least from an orca perspective. Even though the basic structures of my brain are similar to their own, I’m not sure how this is going to work for us.”

The male who’d been projecting images to her started to work on other images, of various fish, many of which she wasn’t familiar with, and finally a salmon. That, she recognized, and nodded her head vigorously, again projecting agreement and enthusiasm. Eventually, they found a few dozen images she recognized, and the male began varying the pattern of presentation, building an image, and then following that with a complex vocalization.

Sa’aan was trying to follow along when suddenly a light dawned. The vocalizations shared some of the qualities of the image, a sonic contour that sketched a rough outline of the image itself, but in a very stylized way.

She turned her attention back to Leana and said, “I’m starting to get it, I think. Their language is basically pictographic, except the pictures are actually four-dimensional, since they can extend in time, and they use a very sophisticated shorthand to reference the actual form, sort of like a man might visually describe a woman by tracing out the curve of her waist and hips with his hands.”

Leana got it right away. “Or the sign for a crazy person, a finger tracing a spiral path beside the signer’s head.”

“Exactly! So far, I think I’ve figured out a few basic concepts, ‘salmon,’ of course, and ‘seal,’ along with a few ‘words’ that seem to have extended meanings, the image of an orca’s flukes in motion, which has a base meaning of ‘flukes’ but also has a lot of meanings added onto it, like ‘go’ or even ‘purpose.’ The other is a pectoral fin, which has similar additional meanings that might translate as ‘steer,’ or ‘avoid,’ or even ‘careful,’ depending on how they’re formed. I have to talk to Dad, He knows lots more about philology and linguistics than anyone, I think.”

Her sister bounced up and down in excitement, saying, “No wonder no one’s ever figured it out, since you can’t make any sense of it unless your brain is capable of receiving the entire signal, and has an area devoted to handling these inputs in a coherent manner.”

“Exactly,” Sa’aan said, “Ordinary people are completely oblivious to the sorts of signals the dolphins produce and understand, so it’s been like trying to explain colors to someone blind from birth. It’s not the sounds themselves that carry the meaning, but the underlying image, so they can vary the meaning by emphasizing different features of the image, and the dialects the different groups use must be almost like schools of art, the difference between a portrait by Cézanne and one by Renoir, clearly different but also related.”

“Shur-ah! Jie-jie. And to make it even more puzzling for human scholars, the language is probably fully four-dimensional, where most human languages are basically constrained to two-dimensions with limited extensions into time and emotion. Dad’s going to become very famous when he publishes his first paper. They’ll probably endow a chair, just for him, and the University will create a Centre for Cetacean Studies.”

Leana hesitated for a moment before asking, “Uh, Sa’aan, What do you mean by ‘four-dimensional?’”

“Well, English, for example, is a linear system of symbols strung one after another, like beads on a string, whether we speak it or write it down on paper. There are some languages that extend this linearity into other dimensions, like the old Sign languages used by profoundly deaf people before modern cochlear implants eliminated the need for them. But you couldn’t actually write down a Signed conversation without elaborate additions to the text, because Sign language was more like a tapestry than a string of beads, and users simultaneously indicated spatial relationships and used spatial metaphors in ways that didn’t make sense for people who hadn’t learned the language very young. A Signed conversation was a performance in which the speaker’s body and movements played an integral part rather than the disembodied monaural ‘voice’ represented by a written text.”

“OK. That’s a little like Grass script as well, because it embodies the physical movements of the calligrapher as well as the essential relationships between the formal strokes of the characters themselves.”

“Right! It’s the record of an actual performance rather than just a string of symbols, and the artist manipulates them to express emotional and other content in addition to the words themselves! But orcas, and presumably other dolphins, can speak in stereo, and can layer many levels of spatial and temporal information into the sounds, much like a fluent Sign language user only more so, and can place the action within a fully four-dimensional space-time environment, while human speech is pretty much restricted to two. Even our depictions of time tend to get mixed up with physical directions in two dimensions, describing the time axis as being either in front of us or behind us. So the awareness and presence of ‘up and down’ is much more important to orcas than it is to humans, and they can inflect their speech along the time axis as well, since their echolocation abilities require a very sophisticated and intuitive grasp of time and distance in multiple dimensions. We know about things above our heads, and things below our feet, but they’re secondary, because we neither burrow beneath the ground nor fly without special arrangements, nor can we really perceive time directly, and so find it difficult to talk about it except through metaphor.”

“I get it!” Leana said, “ ‘Down’ carries negative emotional freight in most human languages, because humans are in danger when they stand on the edge of a cliff. So human ‘hells’ are almost always underground. ‘Up’ is the direction of longing and perceived freedom, since birds fly free of human ground-level limitations, so human heavens are almost always somewhere up in the sky.”

“Exactly!” Sa’aan said. “And I think we’ve just been invited to lunch.” She’d been following along with the orca’s impromptu language lesson while talking to her sister, and brought the two threads back together.

“Lunch. Our new friends have managed to convey the presence of a largish school of salmon a few miles to the Northwest. As their idiot new neighbors, we’re invited to tea. Do you want to come along?”

“Before we take off, I want to ask you about something important, I’ve been noticing that both of them have large numbers of parasites infesting their aural cavities. I wonder if I can help them with that?”

“I’m not sure. In my Healing Theory class last semester, the teacher said that healing parasite infections is tricky, because it alters the œcology of the body and has the potential to crash a person’s metabolism if you dump a lot of dead or dying organisms into it at once. I’d be very careful if I were you. It would also be an ethical violation to heal someone without their permission, unless it was an emergency, of course.”

“You’re right, naturally, but they both have ear worms that cause them a lot of pain. More than is good for them, I think, although they’re very stoic about it. I know that some parasites are actually good for us, and from my reading I know about the symbiotic relationship between some types of worms and their hosts, actually improving overall health and longevity for both partners. But these are damaging their hearing and hurting them terribly, so they clearly don’t belong where they are. Would you help me if I can persuade them to let us do something?”

Leana took a firm grasp of her dorsal fin, prepared for any movement. “Of course. But how are you going to do that?”

“Oh, I’ve been busy while we were talking. I think I can get them to understand.”

Never one to waste time, Sa’aan immediately built a magnified acoustic image of the worms for the large male, and of the auditory nerves that they were damaging, together with the image of a miniature Sa’aan biting the worms, and also projected a general sense of inquiry to the orcas, and was surprised by how quickly they seemed to grasp the concepts. Both of the males nodded their heads vigorously, imitating Sa’aan’s earlier response to them.

So Sa’aan swam over to the first male, who had taken the initiative in their earliest conversation, and said to Leana, “If you could get on the other side of this guy, I’ll show you what I found.”

“Shur-ah, Mei-mei.” She slid off her sister’s back and swam to the other side of the larger male, and gently reached up and took hold of his dorsal fin to steady herself, as she had with her sister’s. The male twitched at the unfamiliar sensation, but was otherwise quiet, the two of them swimming along slowly in echelon as both sisters reached within the organic complexity of the large orca between them to focus on the damage.

Sa’aan said, focusing intently on the gestalt that was the male’s body and metabolism, “Jie-jie? Do you see this tear in the ear structure? I think this is how they got in and I think I can twitch them out the same way once I kill them. I’d like you to hold open the tear while I fiddle with the worms, and then help me heal the wound itself when I’m done.”

“That seems reasonable to me, and minimally intrusive. I can see where the worms are damaging his nerves so I agree with your diagnosis, and I doubt that the jurisdiction of the local medical ethics board reaches quite this far out to sea. So let’s go.”

Sa’aan began by killing all the worms, stopping their intercellular metabolism instantly, and then using her developing telekinetic powers to drag them out through the tear in the orca’s auditory canal and on through into the ocean, together with the unhealthy amount of pus from the infection. Then she concentrated on healing the nerves themselves and clearing the surrounding infection while her sister repaired the physical damage to the ear canal, slowly eradicating the open tear and scarring, replacing everything with healthy tissue. It took about twenty minutes.

She then built an auditory image of the healthy nerves, with no worms, projecting it to the big male, and then sculled a little aside from him, as did her sister. The male reacted with a sudden burst of vocalizations and dove straight toward the bottom before turning and erupting from the surface in an exuberant display, arcing high into the air before plunging cleanly back into the bay a little ways off, the beginnings of an enormous erection plainly visible.

“I did, but he’s a big boy, so it schtands to reason that he vould haf an enormous

Sa’aan glared over at her sister, the effect rather spoiled by the fact that she didn’t have any eyebrows. “You’ve been looking at my vids, haven’t you?”

“What? I shouldn’t know ‘Young Frankenstein’ from a hole in the wall? You think I was never a moody preteen? You were supposed to say, ‘That goes without saying,’ and then I could say, ‘Voof.’ ”

“OK, I give up, ‘He’s going to be very popular.’ But not with me!”

Leana laughed. “Don’t sulk, Mei-mei. Shall we make our other big boy ‘happy?’”

“Come on, Mei-mei. We’ve obviously helped this guy out with his little ‘problem;’ it’s not fair to let the other one suffer.”

Leana was finding this entirely too amusing, in Sa’aan’s opinion. “Leana! Stop it! I know we have to help the other one, but you don’t have to be so bloody pleased about it!”

“Wei! Mei-mei, just remember that nice girls don’t put out on the first date, and especially not for lunch!”

“OK! Be that way! See if I care.” She turned aside with a flip of her flukes, fuming. But then the other male swam toward her, just placing himself modestly a handful of yards to the side, and her heart melted. She felt ashamed of being such a pill, and quickly invited the male to swim nearer, at the same time saying to her sister, “Leana, I’m sorry. I’m such a jerk sometimes, but I’m also just a kid. One day I’m in middle school, trying to figure out how to get out of gym class when I enter high school at the end of summer, and the next I’m in the middle of all this… this really big stuff, and all of a sudden I’m living in an adult world, and all my old friends are back in Campanella, and I’m in the middle of the ocean.”

“Dear heart, of course you are. I’m sorry I was riding you like that, but I was just talking to you like I would talk to one of my girlfriends at school. You’re so much bigger than me now that I forgot that you really are my little sister.” She swam over to Sa’aan’s side and flung her arm over her back. “I’ve really tried to be your friend as well as your sister. You know how I felt about getting wet, and you’ll notice where we are….”

“It did surprise me when you jumped into the pool today. Why didn’t you tell me about your diving lessons?” Sa’aan was swimming slowly alongside the smaller male, edging closer as they swam in echelon.

“Well, first I was afraid that I’d wimp out, and then it seemed like such a great surprise that I decided to save it, and then I discovered that I actually like it. Did you know that jaguars swim all the time?”

“Nope.” She was brushing his side now, and she told Leana to swim around to his other side without pausing to think about it, her own slow swimming stroke on a sort of automatic pilot.

Leana kept talking as she dove under both Sa’aan and the male, surfacing on his other side as she reached out to touch him. “It’s true. The whole cats and water thing is a scam, and I think a lot of cat hybrids just buy into it, But it actually makes perfect sense for human/cat hybrids to spend a lot of time in the water in hot humid climates, like those historically inhabited by jaguars, because we don’t sweat as a general rule, except through our palms and the soles of our feet. Once I got over the shock of being wet on purpose, I was surprised to find out just how good it felt. For small animals, like the common domestic cat, getting wet can be an exposure hazard, because their fur isn’t oily enough to make a good insulator, so it makes perfect sense for them to avoid getting wet. I, on the other hand, am sleek but hardly small.” Her mental voice had dropped by half an octave in a purr of self-satisfied narcissism.

Sa’aan was so concentrated on the problem presented by the other male that she’d hardly paid attention to what Leana was saying. “Shuh-muh? Never mind, you know what to do,” Sa’aan said distractedly, as she reached into the orca’s body with her mind. She felt her sister’s presence as she quickly went through the same steps as before, but much more rapidly and with greater precision, because she knew exactly what the situation was and how to fix it now, just as Leana knew what to do during their joint healing of his damaged nerves and tissues.

She kept talking while she worked on killing the worms and removing them from the male’s body, having reconstructed most of what Leana had been saying from her latent memory of the sounds, “It makes sense now that I think about it, and maybe living in Campanella was part of why I never tuned into issues like that. With twenty-four hour climate control, we were insulated from the real world, so it never really touched us where we live. We knew there was severe drought all through the middle of the continent, and large sections of once-fertile farmland that were now desert, but it was hard to notice it from the midst of programmed rain and luxury. We couldn’t get rained on without getting up in the wee small hours and making a special effort. Problems that people living not a hundred miles away from us were dealing with, suffering from, might just as well have been on the other side of the world for all the difference they made to our neighbors and friends. I’m starting to understand why you called it a cushy cage that day in the park.”

The worms were gone now, and the tissues healed, and the smaller male had shown much the same reaction as the other, who was still frisking about. The two males swam together, bumping their bodies and nuzzling each other’s sides and genitals, then diving deep and leaping together in an astonishing display of exuberance and unselfconscious sexuality.

“And they’re feeling a lot better now,” Sa’aan replied. “Getting those worms out of their heads is obviously a huge relief.”

“Mei-mei, you bad girl! I think you actually made a risqué bon mot.” She swam back to her sister’s side and hung onto her dorsal fin as Sa’aan took off after the cavorting males, who were headed out into the Strait.

“You’re a bad influence,” Sa’aan said smugly. “One minute we were just swimming along, minding our own business, and the next we’ve got front row seats at the all-singing, all-dancing, all-nude, all-gay live sex show. I blame you for luring me into what must be the local red-light district. I have to say, though, that a

“Well, size is definitely a matter of personal preference, as far as I’m concerned, but I do have a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore… and we’re definitely out of our cage. When do we get lunch?” Leana veered to a new subject at warp speed.

Sa’aan noted the change without comment. “Not too long now. I think the school of salmon they told me about is just about a few hundred yards ahead. I’ve been keeping track of the area in front of us, on the general theory that our loverboys might look for a little nosh after their mutual kham-lan.”

“Mei-mei!” Leana exclaimed, disapprovingly, “Just where did you learn that kind of language?”

She rolled one eye back to look at her sister. “What can I say? I was a teenage boy in middle school. I had to know all the dirty words or they’d take away my union card. I notice, however, that you seem to know what it means.”

“Well, what can I say?” she shrugged one shoulder eloquently, the one that wasn’t engaged in hanging on, “The girls would have taken away my union card if I didn’t understand what was being said when I heard them, but they’re much more nasty and vulgar when women and girls actually use them, as opposed to knowing what they mean.”

“Why is that?” She was puzzled enough to pause for a moment before swimming on.

“There’s a whole dominance hierarchy implied in most sexual vulgarity, and usually macho posturing of the speaker in relation to other humans, especially toward women and girls, but also homosexual men. So the man or boy who uses a word like ‘kham-lan’ is basically saying that any contact with the male organ is inherently degrading, no matter who does it. The unstated corollary to this quaint notion is that males own and control their sexual partners, and can humiliate them with impunity, so any initiative on the part of a sexual object is that of a slave rejoicing in his or her chains. Women, in general, are more attuned to the social context of speech, and can usually intuit that words like these are inherently insulting to women and girls. Using them will mark you as either stupid, which we both know you’re not, or self-loathing, which is not the message you’ll want to convey.”

“Oh.” Sa’aan felt suddenly stupid and self-loathing all at once. “I was being a smart-alec, I reckon. I apologize.”

“Piffle. Not to worry, little sister. You’ll learn all these things in two shakes of your cute little flukes when you go back to school, which ought to be pretty soon, and you can’t be expected to absorb fifteen years of social expectations and shibboleths in a few days. Remember, if you have any questions at all, you can ask me without any embarrassment, because I’ll never tell anyone. Half of your potential problems are non-existent anyway, since your remotes wear neither clothes nor makeup and high school girls tend to be très cruel to those unfortunates who stray too far from très chic. And speaking of school, I think we must have arrived, because those two males look much more concentrated all of a sudden.”

“You’re right about the last, and thanks for the first part. I know I’m going to need help if I don’t want to make a fool of myself.”

They were out of sight of the beach by now, so the water horizon was flat, but they could see mountain slopes and tops almost all around them. To the west, they could see one of the big Alaska ferries headed north under full sail. The New Russian Empire was leery of subway tunnels into their territory, or even near it, so they stopped entirely at Bella Coola, and that was only a small local passenger line, although it did carry a small amount of freight. The big freight subways went only as far as Vancouver, but the main terminals at Bellingham in Washington Province carried a lot of commercial traffic from California and Mexico, as well as some cross-continental freight and passengers connecting with the ferries on the northern routes through the Inland Sea.

The males had separated and were moving fast, circling the school of salmon she could ‘see’ through echolocation ahead of them. The males were acting with deadly efficiency, swimming around the fish at twenty fathoms and blowing a curtain of bubbles to confuse them while producing a constant barrage of sharp clicks and whistles to frighten them. The salmon circled into a tight bunch and then the males cut through the mass, biting some and using their powerful flukes to batter and stun others. The remaining fish fled toward Sa’aan, so she said, “Wait here for a moment,” and hurtled toward the oncoming salmon as soon as Leana had slipped off her back, using the same tactics of bite and strike with her powerful flukes to kill or stun those that passed close to her as she rushed into the fleeing school. Out of the frying pan, into the fire, she thought to herself. She ate the nearest dozen or two dead or wounded fish and gathered up the remaining stunned salmon using a combination of her mouth and her telekinetic faculty. She swam back to Leana, saying, “Care for a little Sushi Sake?”

“I’ve never had it quite this fresh, but I don’t mind if I do,” she replied, and neatly plucked a small salmon from the dozen Sa’aan had presented to her using the extended claws of one hand. With the other, she pulled out her dive knife and quickly removed the entrails and the head.

“I’ve already checked them for parasites,” Sa’aan said, “and they’re perfectly healthy. Or at least they were before we three assassins got ahold of them.”

As she spoke, Leana had filleted the salmon as expertly as most sushi chefs and had sliced off a nigiri-sized chunk, which she promptly popped into her mouth.

“Mmmm! Not bad, and certainly fresh. I could get used to this.” She sliced off another piece, which followed the first in an eyeblink.

In Campanella, fish was a rare treat, usually tilapia or another ‘farmed’ fish, so fresh wild salmon was a tasty dish indeed.

The two males swam up, staring at Leana’s antics inquisitively, obviously — even to Leana — wondering why she didn’t just swallow it whole, as they had after their lightning passage through the school. Leana laughed. “Here I thought I was fierce, but these guys are totally fiercer.”

Sa’aan said, “They don’t usually see two-legs out this far, although they’re fully aware that you’re almost as intelligent as an orca.”

“Almost!” she spoke aloud, sputtering, “A few minutes ago we still didn’t know if they were truly sentient at all, and now I’ve been sent to the back of the class?”

“If it’s any consolation, that’s what they think, not me. Your intelligence is just as alien to them as theirs is to us, and I use the word ‘us’ advisedly. I seem to be the first in-between orca they’ve ever seen, and they’re powerfully curious about it. I’m still not able to fully grasp what they’re saying to each other, and their communication to me is rudimentary at best. But they want to go talk to someone about it. I get the impression that whoever ‘someone’ is, she’s female, but they seem to hold her in some sort of reverence.”

“I’ll bet she’s their Mom!” Leana was excited. “I read that the structure of the groups is matriarchal, so that only makes sense. Females live longer, usually, so they probably understand more about the world.”

“You’re probably right,” she agreed. “They seem to be getting ready to go in any case.” She called out her pidgin version of farewell as the two males turned and sped to the northwest at high speed, leaving the two sisters alone in the large expanse of the Georgia Strait. It was late afternoon by now.

Leana tossed the backbone and skin of her meal, ribs still attached, a long way off and into the water, where a group of seagulls pounced on it, noisily squabbling among themselves over the proper division of their treasure, and said with a shrug, “

Chapter Seven — Alarums and Excursions

Sa’aan covered the distance between their luncheon and English Bay much more quickly than they’d gone out. She was confident of her sister’s ability to hang on now, and more sure of herself as well, having tested her strength and reflexes pretty thoroughly. Although there were several ships and private boats in the Strait, as well as the northbound ferry still visible in the distance, almost all of the traffic was under sail, or under combined sail/bioelectric propulsion systems, so she wasn’t worried about being able to stay out of their way.

Leana was riding on her back now, just in front of her curved dorsal fin, and having the time of her life, at least to judge from the whoops and roars she let out from time to time as Sa’aan hurtled at speed through the low swells. She could see the bluff now where their new home was located, although the house itself was hidden behind a screen of evergreens and palms. At the highest point in each leap, the top of the pavilion over her pool was visible and they were closing rapidly on the entrance itself. She checked her course made good and time against her BioLync record and saw that they had averaged more than 26 knots. Not bad for my first time out, she thought to herself.

“Wei, Jie-jie!” she hailed her sister. “Can you see the beach yet?” Leana had a higher vantage point from where she rode up on Sa’aan’s back, in front of her dorsal fin.

“Shur-ah, Mei-mei! It looks like Nakia is still there and someone else. I wonder who it is?”

“Haven’t a clue. Let’s see, shall we?” Sa’aan was keying in her mother’s code as she spoke. “I’ll ask Mom,” she finished, simultaneously linking the call into Leana’s BioLync.

Sa’aan said, “Hello, Mom? Your wayward daughters are just a few minutes offshore and we were wondering whether we should change for our guests. What’s up?” Sa’aan knew that she didn’t have to spell out the unspoken half of the question.

“Hi, girls. There’s a woman from the police here, and a tiny ‘situation’ out on the road, but don’t let it worry you, all’s well here. Come on in.” Irritation and contempt fairly dripped from her innocuous words.

Their mother paused before speaking. “Some rather disreputable individuals who fancy themselves ‘Purists’ are demonstrating out in the middle of the road is all. One can only hope that they drown in their own bathetic piety.” She chuffed angrily to indicate her extreme displeasure.

Sa’aan spoke forcefully as she surged forward, “We’ll be right there. Try not to bite anyone until we’re close enough that you can throw one to me.” Sa’aan wasn’t at all happy to hear that her mother was upset about this unwelcome intrusion into their family reunion.

“I’m sure it won’t come to that, dear heart, and I’m not at all sure I could throw one that far in any case. We’re fairly isolated here, so the road’s aways up from the house. We might not have known that the crêtins were out there playing at righteous indignation but for the arrival of a very nice policewoman at our door. Don’t worry about us at all. We’re just chatting here and having a lovely afternoon tea until my darlings come in from their swim. I think I see you now. Yoohoo!” She waved out toward her two girls.

Sa’aan could see them clearly now, despite the chop that had blown up while they were out fishing, perhaps three thousand yards away, and she saw her mother waving. “I see you too, Mom. We’ll be there in three minutes or so.”

She stopped waving. “Take your time, dear, although it’s a real treat to see you moving so powerfully through the sea. There’s something primeval in it, and a touch of holy dread. You haven’t been

Sa’aan put special effort into the next lunge, mostly showing off to her mother, and Leana let out an especially loud whoop as they entered momentary weightlessness at the top of their arc through the air. “Not that I know of. Are you hearing our ancestral voices prophesying war?”

Sa’aan closed the distance between them steadily, their figures growing larger as the two of them approached the small group on shore. They were about a hundred feet from the entrance to the pool when she felt a shockwave pass through her sister and into her side, followed by the sound of a shot.

Time slowed for her, as her mind reached out toward her sister, who was badly wounded in the thigh and slipping into shock. The bullet had done considerable damage to Leana’s quadriceps and shattered the bone before passing out again and slowing to a stop in Sa’aan’s flank. Quickly, she began the process of stopping the bleeding in Leana’s flesh, and started the repair of her femur. The bullet’s path had miraculously missed Leana’s major nerves, and Sa’aan’s own wound was relatively minor, since Leana’s suit and flesh and bone had borne the brunt of the damage. Reflecting, she realized that her lunges through the waves must have thrown off the shooter’s aim and possibly saved their lives.

At the same time, she spoke to her sister and mother, who’d both heard the shot and were still linked in a speech circuit.

“Mom, Leana, don’t worry about anything, either of you. I have everything under complete control. The man who fired the shot at us is up on top of the bluff but probably isn’t going anywhere for a while, He can’t harm anyone anymore, especially Leana or me. His weapon exploded and he’s very badly hurt. Leana will be perfectly fine. I’ve called an ambulance for her but she’s already stabilized and is in no immediate danger.” Then she dropped Leana’s circuit from the link.

“Mom, tell the police officer that there’s a man up on the cliff about 200 feet to your right who just tried to kill us. He’ll probably need an ambulance too, but the police will have to handle that on their own, I think, as I’m not feeling very charitable right now. I’ve already called one for Leana, but I believe she’ll recover nicely. We’re coming in now. Please tell the police officer to talk to me after Leana’s safe if she has any questions.”

Her mother asked quickly. “Are you sure Leana is safe?”

“Quite sure. I have her held safely, and her wound, though serious, isn’t life-threatening. Please talk to the policeman now, and arrange for the immediate capture of her assailant.”

Her other consciousness processed her memory of the sound of the shot and placed it with unerring accuracy on the lip of the bluff slightly east of the pool, then her perception flicked toward the perpetrator at dizzying speed. He was dressed in a mottled camouflage jumpsuit, with random streaks of paint on his face and hands, just in the process of chambering another round in some sort of heavy sniper rifle, half smiling, utterly calm and in slow motion from her new perspective.

Rage filled her, hot and piercing, as she focused her deep attention on the heavy rifle, as if she were in a healing trance, and willed its destruction. The rifle obliged by exploding into a myriad of glowing molten fragments which spread in graceful silence outward in all directions as their assailant belatedly began a pantomime of shrieking, clawing at his ruined face and eyes with bloody hands, actions Sa’aan observed with quiet detachment and no particular satisfaction.

She looked across the bluff margin with care, searching for any accomplices, but he seemed to have been alone. She followed the traces of his path through the brush at the cliff’s edge back toward the road, and found that it led toward a flivver parked just under the trees on the margin. She made a note of its location, so she could pass it on to the police.

Then she opened a second circuit and called emergency services, asking for an ambulance and a healer right away for her sister, advising them that she had been severely wounded by a gunshot from an assassin. Finally, after everything seemed safe, she looked into her own wound, which was beginning to hurt, extracted the bullet and tucked it away in Leana’s vest, and then began the healing process on her own wound.

“You’re going to be alright, Leana. The wound is nasty but manageable and I’ve stopped the bleeding already. I’ve called for an ambulance and a healer but have started everything along nicely. The bullet is out already. I tucked it into the right pocket of your buoyancy compensator for safekeeping so be sure to give it to the police when they get around to asking.

Sa’aan then added her father, Nakia, and Leana back into the link with her mother and said, “Dad, Nakia, a man up on the cliff just fired a rifle at us, but he won’t be doing it again any time soon. His flivver seems to be parked just off the road on the way into town, so please tell the police to take a look. Leana was moderately wounded but she’s fine otherwise. I’ve controlled the bleeding and the bullet is out and safe in her vest pocket, tucked there by me without physical contact. I’m handling the pain for her until she’s able to cope. Don’t worry, she’s tough as nails. She’ll be able to take over when we get her back on land.”

She hadn’t stopped moving during any off this, so they were passing through the opening of the pool already and Sa’aan glided to a stop at the edge of the pool near her parents and Nakia, where his mother moved quickly to Leana and placed her hands on her wounded thigh, adding her own healing powers to those of Sa’aan.

“Very good job, daughter. Much better than I could have done. But I can help a bit until the medics arrive; you must be tired by now.”

In the meantime, Nakia and her father were talking to each other. After a few moments, her father broke off and turned to Sa’aan and her sister. “Let me help get her onto the lounge….”

Sa’aan interrupted, “Wait!” she said as her father reached out toward Leana. “Dad, you might want to wait for the ambulance crew to move her, because her thighbone is badly broken. I’ve aligned the bone fragments and started healing her, and now with Mom’s help, too, but she’s still pretty fragile. We probably couldn’t control the positioning of her leg if you start moving her, and Mom isn’t strong enough as a healer to handle bone on her own. The ambulance team will probably be set up for moving people with broken bones, and their healer ought to be able to handle trauma.”

Her father replied, stepping back, “That was quick thinking, daughter. I’m very proud of you. You say this man is incapacitated?” He glanced up toward the wooded bluff, scanning for possible threats.

“Yes, I believe so. He was preparing to fire again so I made his weapon explode, although I don’t exactly know how. He was badly burned, I know, but I didn’t look carefully as I was terribly worried about Leana and other potential threats.” She checked the top of the bluff to make sure that he wasn’t escaping, but he seemed to be unconscious as she scanned his contorted body. He was alive, but not moving. “I think he was acting alone, at least nominally, but it’s pretty clear where he was coming from.”

“Indeed,” her father replied, turning toward the invisible presence of the putative protestors out on the road. “I doubt that the coïncidence is nearly as total as they will undoubtedly claim.”

Nakia broke in, “We can help with protecting you all, now that we know you’re a target. My own writ doesn’t run in Canada, but we have very good relations with our equivalents on this side of the border, so I’ll get in touch with them now. I imagine they’ll take a dim view of attempted murder, no matter how sincerely the shooter came to the opinion that you, or your sister, were better off dead. In the meantime, you’re still an RSA citizen, so I’ll have our team start designing some physical hardware for the protection of you and your family, as backup to anything the Canadians supply.” She turned and spoke quietly to the policewoman, an attractive fox Chimera, and then continued, “Do you mind if I invite the officer into our conversation? From what you’ve told me, whatever you did is clearly self-defense, but you might want to contact a lawyer before making a formal statement. On the other hand, this is Canada and they view people who don’t promptly disclose what they know about a crime with considerable suspicion. My own advice would be to talk to them now, without a lawyer. I should warn you, too, that if I am called to testify, I’ll have to truthfully relate the gist of our conversation, because I’m an official of our government and covered under the Implicit Testimony Act of 2020, so you won’t want to alter or omit anything you’ve already said to me in any case.”

Sa’aan thought for only a second before answering, “I don’t mind. And I have nothing to hide, as far as I know. He tried to kill us. I tried to stop him. I acted in the only way I could under extreme pressure, since he was preparing to fire again when the gun exploded. I know I’m just a kid, but that seems pretty straightforward to me. What do you think, Mom and Dad?”

Her parents looked at each other for a moment before answering, as some unspoken understanding passed between them, then her mother said, “Your father and I are quite agreed on the advisability of telling the truth, so we have no objection to the officer joining the conversation right now. We’ll reserve the right to withdraw our approval if her questions seem untoward or manipulative, although from talking to her I doubt that this will be necessary.”

A helicopter had appeared as they spoke, and they could hear sirens up on the bluff, probably the police. The conversation stopped perforce, as the noise of the approaching helicopter soon overwhelmed every sound around it and buffeted them with the wash of its rotors. It was a big twin rotor heavy lifter, fitted out with rescue slings and cranes. Two of the crew were descending on cables, along with a Stokes stretcher on a third cable held between them.

Sa’aan linked to the address broadcast by the rescue ’copter above, connecting to the crew after a short delay. She explained the situation on the ground, as well as her own first aid efforts, so that the cabin crew could advise the two down below on how best to proceed.

With a strange sense of déjà vu, Sa’aan watched her sister rising up toward the hovering machine, just as she’d been lifted into Mr. Jefferson’s airship only a few days before, but accompanied by both of the crew members, one of whom was obviously a healer as she had both hands laid on her sister’s thigh and a look of fierce concentration on her face.

Sa’aan spoke to Leana through their mental link as the stretcher rose above their heads, “How are you holding up, Jie-jie? I’m sorry I didn’t see that thug before he shot us.”

“I’m not exactly sure, although the official testers back in Florida told me that they really hadn’t any clue about my powers, once they developed, except that they were sure I had some. My brain was so weird to them that they kept ‘skipping off the surface,’ to use their words. It’s obviously some sort of teleperception, like what happens when you heal someone, only over a much larger range. How I blew up the rifle is a complete mystery to me. I saw him reloading it and I knew he was going to shoot one of us again, and I knew I couldn’t let that happen, and then something ‘clicked’ in my brain and I knew I could destroy the weapon if I wanted to, just through my rage. And that’s what I did, with spectacular results. I’m afraid to try it again, though, since I don’t know how to control whatever it was I did. Next time, I might blow up Vancouver.” Sa’aan was now mentally following along with the helicopter as it flew south towards the center of the peninsula, using the new perceptions that had suddenly emerged from her brain, while the eye which had been watching her sister took over the task of scanning the edge of the bluff. She could see the woods surrounding their new home and then the many buildings of the campus below her as they flew toward a large complex of buildings in the middle. Checking her BioLync, she saw that it was the UBC Hospital Urgent Care Centre, so it looked as if they had a major teaching hospital right on their doorstep.

Leana mused, “It sounds like it might be some sort of elemental power. Were you conscious of it being metal or whatever?” She was obviously thinking about the many sorts of mental powers that had developed among some of the Chimeræ, most of which Sa’aan hadn’t studied in school yet, although of course everyone knew about weather and stone elementals, since they impacted almost every life in some way. Aside from a few high-profile talents that had made it into the newsvids or the entertainment media, like Crotalus, who could supposedly fly, or something like it — the exact mechanism that powered his spectacular leaps wasn’t really explained, except as a manifestation of his ‘Mystic Chi Power,’ which didn’t seem much different from the centuries-old Hong Kong Kung Fu action-vids she’d seen before — and healers of course. Chimeric talents weren’t usually a topic of public speculation or conversation. Sa’aan suddenly realized why.

“I don’t think so,” she said. “I didn’t even think of it being made out of steel or anything. I just knew that I could make it into useless junk, whatever it was. I strongly suspect that we’ll be asked to keep quiet about this. I don’t think the governments of the world want the un-chimed public to realize what we really are, or could be anyway.”

Sa’aan tried to choose her words carefully, trying out the sound of them against the pattern that had started to emerge from the many threads of experience that had suddenly arrived at a nexus of insight in her brain. “I think some of us have very dangerous talents, and I think the people in charge don’t want the general public to know. The Purists already hate us; just think how much mileage they could get out of evil Chimes plotting to kill all the humans with ‘Satanic powers.’ ”

“Oh, my. The plot thickens. You were always good at figuring out who the shadowy perpetrator was long before the obligatory scene in the drawing room, Mei-mei, so who am I to argue? I’ll tell you how they play it at the hospital. Good job on the leg, by the way; I’ve been looking at it and the healer from the ambulance crew admired your work as well. You have a real talent that ought to be encouraged, according to her, and I think so too.”

Sa’aan felt embarrassed. “I was just trying to keep you healthy and breathing. It wasn’t really any more difficult than our joint surgery on the two males, except I was a lot more worried about the outcome.”

“Me too. I wasn’t in any shape to help you, even after I realized that I’d been hit. It took all I could do to just hang on. I was really woozy until you got the pain under control.

Sa’aan was even more mortified by this cheerful admiration, but plowed on, determined to say everything at once, “I helped with your blood pressure too. You were going into shock and I’d seen what you did with Mr. Jefferson.”

“You saw that? And didn’t say anything?” Leana sounded extremely surprised.

She answered slowly, “I didn’t really even have a clue about what you did or even what was happening back then, but when I look back on the memory now, there’s all sorts of stuff laid just under the surface memory, if you know what I mean. It’s like it was all a dream about something completely strange and incomprehensible, but then when I woke up just now I could see that it was really about something else entirely and I understood what the dream had meant all along. This isn’t making any sense,” she trailed off in frustration.

Leana murmured, “No. It does. I think.” She sounded thoughtful, then spoke with assurance, “We all have memories of hearing something that sounds garbled, but then something happens that puts it into context and suddenly what sounded like gibberish becomes clear in retrospect. I’ve never heard of that with healing, but you’re a special case, I think. So you’re saying that you weren’t aware of the healing at the time, but now you can look back and remember it, as if your brain, or something, had recorded the information but you weren’t aware of it consciously and then, when you developed the ability to heal, the healing memories were there, just as if you’d had them all along.”

Sa’aan thought for a moment. “Sort of. But it’s a little more complicated than that.”

“No doubt.” Leana changed her tone abruptly, “Would you mind not telling anyone about this until we can talk at length? I think I see my doctoral thesis lurking somewhere in there, and don’t want some intern stealing my ideas before I even start my post-graduate work. It’s probably one of those ‘dangerous’ talents as well, if the same thing can happen to other Chimes. What if the innocent child you see today may someday be the telepath who knows all your deepest secrets at some random time in the future? The mind boggles. The cloak and dagger types would probably have to kill us all at birth, just to keep their little secrets safe from the world.”

Sa’aan agreed, “I see what you mean. I think I should be a little more parsimonious with my words when I tell the ‘official version’ of my story.”

Leana said, “Sounds like a good idea to me as well. I don’t have to worry much, since I’m the poor gunshot victim here, dazed and confused, but you should probably be a little cagey until you can get Dad on his own. I think he may be one of the dangerous ones — well, probably Mom is too, but Dad will have a wonderfully detailed explanation with visual aids and a reading list already prepared — so he might have some insights about how we should handle ourselves. We’re landing now, so they’ll want to poke and prod for a bit. I’d better sign off.

“Just watch it around the hospital. Sooner or later you’re going to run into someone who can feel the weight of your ætheric gaze, and then you’re

“Yala bai. Mei-mei. Cheer up. What are they going to do, shoot us?” she laughed as Sa’aan saw them lower her stretcher to a waiting carrier and she was wafted into the hospital.

Meanwhile, back at the pool, her parents, Nakia, and the policewoman were engaged in deep conversation, and three more police officers walked down the stairs from the bluff, not joining the discussion already in progress but interested spectators. Then another woman, another fox Chimera, walked down the stairs and joined the group. She had a lot to say, and then all three of the new police officers walked a little ways off, and she and the original policewoman walked over to where Sa’aan sculled in place, trying not to eavesdrop.

The new Fox Chimera said, “Hello, Sa’aan. I’m Edith Mortenson, Nakia’s counterpart from the Canadian Chimeric Transition Agency. I understand that you can hear plainly but find it difficult to talk. It that true?”

“Would you mind linking to us, then, at my link address?” She activated her BioLync, so that Sa’aan’s link could scan it for her name, rank, and link address. My account will handle the details of the conference link.”

Sa’aan made the connection and said, “I’d like to have my parents linked in as well, and Nakia Inconnu if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. I’d anticipated the request and set it up as a preset.” She paused for a moment and then went on, speaking slowly as if Sa’aan were a small child, “We’re all together now. The officer with me is Staff Sergeant Olive Olafsen and two senior officers over there are Sergeants Moira Neely and Jennifer Arbuthnot. They’re not going to try to trick you, or coerce anything out of you, no matter what you may have seen on the vids. They just have to know what happened so they can write a report, which will undoubtedly be used in the prosecution of your assailant, so it’s in your interest to supply as much detail as you remember. They’ll be recording the conversation, just to ensure that the written statement they prepare is an accurate reflection of your spoken words to them now. Lying to the police in their inquiries is a serious offense, so it’s in your interest to tell the truth, but you are not a suspect in the case. Is that clear?” She waved the three uniformed officers, who had been standing carefully aside, over to the edge of the pool a little ways off from where the other adults stood near her head.

Sa’aan said, “Yes, it is.” She then rose out of the water, spyhopping, and nodded slightly, watching their eyes visibly widen as they saw something of her full size.

Edith went on, Good. The rest of the interview will be conducted by the senior police officer, Olive Olafsen, so I’m going to bow out now but will remain listening to ensure that your interests as a post-transition Chimera and a minor are fully respected.” She stood aside.

The police officers came forward and one began speaking, the first fox Chimera, “We’ll start right off, if that’s alright with you. My name is Staff Sergeant Olive Olafsen of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police and ViCLAS — that’s the Violent Crime Linkage Analysis System if you’re not familiar with our police systems here in Canada — ViCLAS liaison for British Columbia and Washington. Here present are Sergeants Moira Neely and Jennifer Arbuthnot, plus Constable Ryan McPhearson, all of the local Vancouver Police. Observing is Edith Mortenson of the Canadian Chimeric Transition Agency. It is 16:27 on Wednesday, October 2nd, 2176. I’m speaking to Sa’aan bat Shimon Armstrong, a recently transitioned female orca Chimera and a minor, who is giving a voluntary statement to aid us in our investigations of an apparent criminal assault with possible hate crime and/or terrorism aggravations. Sa’aan, would you please state your name for the record?”

Sa’aan repeated her name and then proceeded to tell the story from the beginning, starting with the swim, the encounter with the orcas, the swim back, and the realization that they’d been shot. She saw her mother comprehend that both her girls had been hurt as her tawny tail began to lash back and forth, and her father hunched his shoulders slightly, more private than ever. Sa’aan knew what it meant though. Between the two of them, her father was the more fearsome, despite his mild exterior.

Olive interrupted, “Hang on a bit. I thought that your sister had been shot and that you were only a witness.”

Sa’aan replied calmly, “No. The bullet passed through Leana’s thigh and into my side, here.” Sa’aan rolled to one side so they could see the wound, which was still oozing blood and fluid slightly, although largely under control.

Olive reacted, visibly taken off guard. “I see.” She turned aside and spoke to Constable McPhearson, “Constable, can we get a medical unit out immediately to see if she’ll be alright as she is, or if anything more needs to be done? I gather there was some confusion about how many victims there were.” She glared at the constable, although why she did this was hard for Sa’aan to comprehend. “Also, please have the specialist come back down to take an official picture or two of the wound.” She turned back to face Sa’aan. “I must apologize for not taking care of this immediately. We had no idea that you were wounded too.”

“It’s quite alright, Officer. In my own concern about my sister, who was far more seriously wounded, I’d simply forgotten to mention it.”

Olive was still slightly flustered as she continued, “None-the-less, we should have checked more carefully, as is our usual habit, and inquired directly, since it should have been obvious that you were, or could have been, nearby when she was struck by the bullet. Please accept my sincere apologies on behalf of myself, the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, and the Vancouver Police Department. Do you feel up to continuing the interview? Or should we reschedule this sometime after your medical needs have been seen to?”

She replied immediately, “I feel fine, really. I’d rather continue while my memories are fresh”

Olive said, “Very well, but please let me know if you wish to pause or stop at any time.” She paused to look carefully at Sa’aan before going on, “In reference to your recently-discovered wound, which superficially appears to have been inflicted by a single shot from a substantial hunting rifle, could you please explain why the wound appears to be partially healed already?”

“Of course,” she replied. “I’m a healer, although untrained, but I’ve watched my sister at work — she’s a healer as well — and I used my own talent to begin the healing process on both my sister and myself, since we were beyond the reach of land-based medical care at the time. She was bleeding rather badly, and partially immersed in salt water, so first aid seemed called for and that’s what I did.”

“That certainly seems fair, exemplary even. Stout heart and a clear head in a pinch, eh? Good on you!” She nodded her appreciation, made a note on her BioLync, and continued, “So at this point, you’re both severely wounded, losing blood, quite possibly in shock, and then what happened?”

Sa’aan answered, “At that point, part of my consciousness left my body, like when I’m healing, and went to the top of the bluff, where I saw the man reloading his weapon, which was some sort of single shot hunting rifle. He put a new cartridge in the gun and started to pull the trigger. At that point, I looked at the gun and knew I had to stop it, and it blew up somehow. I’m not sure how. I think that I made it happen but, again, I don’t know how I could possibly have done so.”

Olive continued, “So, as far as you know, the gun could have blown up by itself, in a sort of misfire, and your seeming foreknowledge of the event might be unrelated or even mistaken?”

Sa’aan replied, “As far as I know, yes, when you put it that way. But I had a very strong feeling at the time that I had caused the explosion.”

Olive pressed on, “Did you mean to harm the man directly? He was shooting at you after all.

Sa’aan was very firm in her answer to this question, which she’d thought about quite a bit since the explosion of the rifle, “No, I did not. My only thought was to stop the gun from firing, since he was obviously intending to kill us both. Like many healers, I have very slight telekinetic powers, but I knew that I couldn’t move anything as weighty as a rifle at that distance. My sister was riding on my back, wearing a brightly-colored wetsuit and scuba tanks, so it’s not possible that he somehow overlooked her presence.” She spoke without rancor, confident that this was true, although to be honest, she wasn’t terribly upset that the man was hurt either.

Olive seemed very pleased about her last statement, and smiled a foxy sort of grin, glancing over at Edith, the other fox Chimera, as she answered, “Point very well taken. I think that’s about all for today then, as soon as the photographer gets a clear shot of the wound. I’ll warn you, though, that I’ll be setting down only the facts and leaving out the speculations, since it’s entirely possible that your theory of the cause of the explosion was the misperception of a mind in shock.”

Sa’aan was disappointed at the perfunctory interview, since Olive didn’t seem to take it seriously, but tried not to let it show. “If you say so. I can only say what I thought happened for sure, and I certainly have no sensible explanation of how anything I did could have caused the rifle to explode.”

Olive was packing up already, preparing to leave. “That’s that, then. We’ll have a written statement printed up from our notes here, and be back tomorrow for a formal affirmation of the statement before witnesses, since it would be very difficult to obtain a signature without making a horrid mess of things. The agency doesn’t supply waterproof paper as a general rule, and I have no idea where I might look for it.” Olive smiled to let everyone know that this was a little joke. “Please don’t talk about this matter with anyone, least of all to any member of the public or the press, since that might interfere with our ongoing investigation.”

Sa’aan had the strong impression that the particulars of her case were being swept under the carpet as neatly as possible, at least the twisty bits, and the whole thing presented as a simple assault and attempted murder. It hadn’t escaped her notice that every official she’d seen, at least the ones who’d actually talked to her, was a visibly-hybridized Chimera. She answered, “OK. I’ll see you then. But before you go, could you tell me if the man on the bluff has been arrested?”

Edith answered very quickly, before Olive had a chance to reply, “He is in custody, but his exact status is subject to an ongoing police inquiry and they’ll be making no statements before that inquiry is complete.” She caught the eye of Olive with a meaningful glance, who nodded her understanding and affirmation, then continued, “In the meantime, please accept the sincere apologies of the Canadian government for your disgraceful treatment in our normally friendly country, and all of our best wishes for a speedy recovery for your sister and yourself.” Edith and Olive both nodded to Sa’aan and her parents, smiling warmly, partially compensating for the cool professionalism of the interview, and then turned to leave, pausing to shake hands with both her parents and give her mother a social hug.

Sa’aan watched as Edith and the four officers gathered up the last of their things and walked up the stairs, talking among themselves. Another officer, evidently the technician who was supposed to take a photograph, passed them on his way down, walked over to the side of the pool, asked her where the wound was and, as she rolled over to show him, flashed a picture and left without further word.

Nakia walked over to the side of the pool near her head as the technician went back up the stairs and said, smiling, “Well played, dear. I’ll be stopping by tomorrow as well, but now we have to go visit your sister, if she’s up to visitors. Somehow I don’t think she’ll have any problems either. You’re both very brave and clever to have gotten out of this in one piece, eh? Or whatever it is they say up here in the great formerly white north. And please don’t worry about all this formality; we’re all on the same side here, so you and your family will be perfectly safe.” She too smiled warmly, then turned briskly and walked up the stairs, leaving Sa’aan alone with her parents.

Her father turned to her and said aloud, “Are you sure you’re going to be alright here? It might be a good idea to spend a little more time out in the open water, moving fast. That fellow up on the bluff may have been alone, but he might well have friends nearby.” He glanced up at the wooded bluff above their heads.

Sa’aan said, “It’s OK, Dad. Now that I’ve seen how wacky these guys are, I’m keeping track of the surrounding area pretty carefully.” She was looking at the demonstrators with another part of her consciousness, twenty-three of them, with four police officers keeping track of their actions. Most of them were on their knees, evidently praying for the destruction of the ‘animals’ who lived in their midst, some were waving their hands toward the sky with piteous expressions on their faces, but a few at the front of the crowd were shuffling around with cardboard signs with obscure references on them that said, ‘Lev 18:23,’ ‘Dan 7:11-12,’ and ‘Gen 1:26.’ The one sign that made a readily-comprehensible statement said only that ‘Man Hath Dominion Over Beasts!!!’. She wasn’t sure exactly what quotes any of the coded references pointed to, but she got the impression that they were probably allusions to the supposed ‘Biblical’ justifications for the hatred and oppression expressed by the one sign in plain text. She idly wondered if they kept kosher, since they were so enamored of Torah and the Prophets.

The general antipathy and overall nuttiness of the crowd were both clear enough, so she didn’t bother using her BioLync to check the references, since it seemed like a waste of time. She could see a newsvid flivver off to the side of the demonstrators, and a bored reporter sitting beside it on a portable chair, with a remote AI-Cam on a hoverpad lying on the ground in front of him. He glanced over at them from time to time, but seemed otherwise disinterested. Nothing immediately threatening was forthcoming from that direction. The bluff seemed clear as well; the flivver she had thought might belong to the assassin was gone, and no new vehicles had been parked along the road.

Her father replied, “None-the-less, I’ll stay here with you while your mother visits Leana in the hospital. And I want to talk to you about what you did with your assailant.”

Her mother walked up to the edge of the pool and said aloud, “Sa’aan, you take very special care of yourself while I’m at the hospital. I couldn’t bear the thought of you being hurt. I’d like you to keep the link open so I can hear what’s going on, at least until I get to the hospital.”

Sa’aan answered quickly, I will, Mom. She was doing fine the last time I talked to her, making jokes and everything. I’m sure she’ll be up to her usual standards soon.”

Her mother said kindly, “I’m sure she will, dear, but that doesn’t keep me from worrying. Simon, take care of our girl.” And with that, she crossed the short beach and ran up the stairs, her powerful muscles rippling as she leapt from stair to stair, touching every third tread.

Her father watched as his wife ascended, and then turned back towards his daughter, looking at her silently for a moment before saying, “Sa’aan, first I want to say that you behaved with perfect propriety, as far as I can see. Your sister was wounded, as were you, and you aren’t permitted to stand aside from your sister’s blood, even if the

He paused and peered at her carefully before going on, “But it seems that you were… ‘economical’ with the truth. Could you please explain your reasoning?”

Sa’aan marshaled her thoughts, since she knew that this was the interview that really counted. She took a deep breath and started, “There were three things, really. First, I wasn’t sure what was going on or exactly how I did what I did, and I didn’t want to blurt out anything that might later prove untrue and that I’d later regret. I’m very vulnerable, despite my size, and Leana is too, not to mention you and Mom.”

With a strong movement of her flukes and fins, she turned fully toward her father, so she could see him with both eyes, “We’re all almost instantly recognizable, since our chimeric genotypes vary from uncommon to unique. I wanted to preserve our safety, as much as I could, and retain as much freedom of choice and action as possible.”

After a quick look around, with particular attention to the bluffs on either side, she refocused on her father, “Second, I followed what I thought were very clear signals from Olive that she didn’t want to take official notice of any new or threatening chimeric ability, which my newfound ability clearly is, whatever the final explanation turns out to be or how it fits into the spectrum of known chimeric powers. My assessment was, I believe, confirmed when Nakia said ‘well played’ to me at the end of the interview.” Her father nodded slightly. Whether this meant that he agreed or was merely a signal to go on wasn’t terribly clear, which made her nervous.

“And last, the Purists out there worried me. Once anything was written down in a police report, I couldn’t control who had access to it or what their reaction might be.” She paused.

“I believe that I caused that rifle to explode, and I said as much to the officer, but she very clearly didn’t want me to say it, and continually hinted that I rephrase or rethink my answers. It was very much an interactive process, and one which might be important for our survival.”

“I thought about this before the interview, and talked it over with Leana, and I believe that this might affect the welfare of all Chimeræ. I’m assuming that Olive’s overt manipulation of the interview was prompted by greater knowledge than I possess, and was in itself a subtle warning to avoid making an issue of any chimeric power I’d used. I believe that she had all our welfares at heart, since every officer present was an obvious Chimera, and Nakia was there as well.”

“I believe Nakia, or even Edith, would have said something if Olive had done anything amiss, although I have only personal feelings to justify my belief.” She stopped, waiting for his reaction.

Her father paused for quite a while, considering, before he answered, “Well argued, daughter. I agree with you about both Nakia and Olive. And I believe your general line of reasoning is sound. The fact that Edith showed up so quickly was undoubtedly due to Nakia’s influence, and the presence from the beginning of an officer from the RCMP, who happened to be associated with their violent crimes unit, suggests that they view the so-called Purists with deep suspicion, although I’m fairly sure that they had no advance warning of the assassination attempt. The Canadians take firearms offenses very seriously, especially in regard to hate crimes and terrorism. It’s only because the Purists wrap themselves in false religious trappings and piety that they’re allowed to promulgate their hateful agenda, since Canada has very strong hate crime and terrorism legislation on the books, and has had these or similar laws in place for hundreds of years.” He paused to inspect the bluff again with unblinking eyes, looking more like Crotalus than she had ever seen him look, although he wasn’t wearing green and black spandex tights and a swirling cape. Sa’aan had to push back this thought quickly lest she start to laugh.

Her father looked back towards her, as if he’d caught a fragment of her thought, because he smiled broadly before continuing, “All in all, I think you handled the interview very well, especially for one of somewhat tender years. I approve. But be very sure that you’re consistent in the future. When one is economical with the truth to start with, it often pays to be somewhat miserly thereafter. You said you had some questions as well.” It was typical of her father to abandon a topic abruptly, as soon as he was satisfied, so Sa’aan felt immensely reassured by his sudden question.

She began, “I did. I’ve never heard of the sort of power I used, and realized that there appears to be quite a bit about Chimeræ and their powers that isn’t widely known, except for our obvious physical characteristics and the particular genetic mutations that saved humanity back in the Twenty-first century. Why is that?”

Her father thought for a long moment before he answered, then said, “Part of it is caution, I think, although I’m hardly privy to the inner workings of our own government, much less that of Canada. Even in our little utopian paradise of Campanella, though, we had Purists and it was clear that our public actions and policies seemed peculiarly well-designed to minimize their pernicious influence.”

He flexed his jaws to their full extent and extended his fangs, an angry, threatening gesture that she’d never seen him use before — highly uncharacteristic of her father, whose habitual decorum and reserve was legendary in his classes, and notable even at home. — before continuing, “The so-called ‘Purists’ would be laughable, if they weren’t so hateful and destructive, since there are, in point of fact, no ‘pure’ humans left in the world and almost everyone with any sense or education knows it. There are only Chimeræ with such a small admixture of non-human genetic material that their mutations are invisible. Almost all of the truly pure humans died in the general population crash that followed the initial onslaught of burgeoning transgenic mutagens in the early twenty-first century, or in the mass starvation that followed the collapse of mid-latitude agriculture as desertification or inundation overtook many of the old farming regions of the world toward the beginning of the twenty-second, and even the few that were left lacked the vigor to survive through the next century.”

He gestured over his shoulder toward the unseen, but still ongoing demonstration on the road above, “The

He collected his thoughts for a moment before resuming, “You’re right in that there appear to be many subtle, or mostly subtle, pressures on us to conceal, or at least minimize, any special abilities we may possess. Part of this is surely our cultural habits of modesty, since posturing and public boasting of one’s superiority or prowess have been viewed with some distaste for many centuries in both Canada and the Re-formed States of America, as well as many other cultures around the world. There are limited exceptions to this general reticence for healers and a few others with chimeric powers that are so obviously valuable to the public at large that their professions have a long history of inherent prestige and the publicity benefits seem to outweigh the dangers. I include medical doctors, of whom healers are a respected and valued subset, architects and civil engineers, whose ranks have been supplemented by various Chimeræ with elemental powers, and a few others.”

He took a few steps back and turned, as if looking for a whiteboard, and then turned back toward his daughter, “You may have noticed that Chimeræ in popular culture, especially those media targeted towards young boys and men — action-vids, BioLync games, and such — are almost always depicted as heroic figures protecting humanity from organized human gangs. This can’t have been entirely accidental. Young men most often grow up admiring Chimeræ nowadays, and often rejoice if they’ve inherited even the slightest visible Chimeric hybridism or demonstrable powers, or obtain them during adolescent transition.”

His voice rose slightly as he drove home his point, “It’s obviously important to all current human societies that almost all young men, who tend to be somewhat more aggressive than most young women, think positively about the visible Chimeræ among us, since the Chimeric adaptation is the key to our present and future survival.”

He paused, and then continued in a milder tone, “Almost every child among us — at least those whose minds have not been poisoned by Purist hate speech — is aware that we’re all Chimeræ in a basic sense, even those who don’t appear to have undergone any noticeable transition, so everyone has at least the possibility of being or becoming the sort of hero depicted in the vids. This sort of societal molding of young male character has gone on almost forever, or so it seems. It’s evidently adaptive for the men in civil societies to be inculcated with the cultural equivalents of Medieval chivalry: mandatory compassion and protection toward women, children, and the elderly; honesty and forthrightness; constant loyalty and self-control; and open-handed charity toward all.” He paused again.

“These virtues — the very word means ‘manly’ — have been held up as the ideal of adult male behavior in almost every culture still surviving, from the warrior societies of the Polynesians to Baden-Powell’s Scouts, from the boy’s adventure novels of centuries gone by to the action-vid heroes of today, the hero is always ready to fight against bullies — who are always cast as villains — and/or injustice.”

He held up one finger, ticking off a point, “Our governments, security agencies, and industry are, I believe, so dependent on Chimeric individuals and their powers that we must form a sort of shadow government, or at least a strategic resource too valuable to disregard, and constitute the vital, but often hidden, underpinnings of our society.”

He held up another finger, making two, “The subways, for example, have allowed us to maintain a high level of civilization and mobility while reducing the net impact of transportation on the global ecosystem to almost nothing. They would be impossibly expensive without stone elementals to create and maintain them. Likewise, our medical system is primarily based, if I may be so bold, on Chimeric healers, without whom it would be extremely difficult to maintain our high level of healthcare with the drastically-reduced populations of modern Canada, Mexico, and the RSA. I’ll pass over with a bare mention the issue of Chimeric telepaths in security, crime prevention, and mental health, since there are legal issues and regulations there that are very complex, but I believe their influence is pervasive. And then there are the weather elementals, without whom many of our cities and farms would dry up and be blown away. There are many other examples.” He stopped speaking for a long while, obviously considering whether he should go on, having ticked off all the fingers of one hand, which he lowered and then said simply, “I have an unpublished monograph on this subject which I’ll route to your BioLync, if you wish to study further.”

Sa’aan answered quickly, “I would, actually, but you lost me a little back there, Dad. What did you mean by ‘dark energy?’ ”

Her father warmed visibly to this new subject, “Dark energy is, by most physical measurements, an almost imperceptible force whose effects can be detected anly in very large structures whose gravitational anomalies can be seen because of the Einsteinian equivalence of matter and energy. Whatever it is, it comprises some seventy-two percent of the universe and appears to pervade the space-time continuum, although we cannot yet detect it using any physical instrument or experiment. It was once called ‘Quintessence,’ or ‘Phantom Energy,’ and it has an overall antigravitational effect on the Universe as a whole but otherwise reacts very weakly with normal matter, probably because it’s separated from the four space-time dimensions that we can readily perceive along at least one other dimension.” He took time to glance around the area, possibly considering potential sources of danger, or perhaps just flexing his neck. With her father, it was often hard to tell what went on behind his usually impassive face.

“The best theory so far as to the source of Chimeric power is that the structure of our brains allows us to somehow dip into or contact one or more of those extra dimensions implied by theory and tap into this force, but the whole megillah is somewhat controversial. Both Chimeric theoreticians and physicists are constantly arguing about it. It seems reasonable, though, because it accounts for the manifestation of chimeric energy without simultaneously violating all the ordinary physical laws.” He grinned broadly, showing his remarkably carnivorous teeth, “Not that violating the laws of the Universe is necessarily a bad idea.”

He paused to give his little joke a moment to sink in, and then continued, “The one thing that seems clear is that whatever the real explanation is, it’s probably just barely distinguishable from magic, and the people who can actually understand it would be able to comfortably gather in a moderately large social hall. And of course, every use of this energy probably contributes very slightly to the net entropy of the Universe and theoretically hastens the final disruption of the space-time continuum by accelerating its expansion — but that’s twenty billion years or so in the future, so we really haven’t gotten around to worrying about it yet.” He smiled briefly.

Sa’aan faltered, “So the universe is going to end in twenty billion years?”

Her father smiled again, “More or less, but who’s counting? Everyone dies eventually, so it makes perfect sense that universes do too. But our own Universe is in the prime of life, with many billions of years of vigor left, so why worry about it now? Earth itself will be uninhabitable long before that, as our Sun evolves toward its red giant phase, somewhere between one and three and a half billion years from now, so we’ll eventually have to put our minds to the problems of sustainable extraterrestrial living and the œcology of our Universe, what the Hawaiians call

He presented his first and thus far only visual aid to her BioLync, the ancient Chinese symbol of Yin and Yang, creation and destruction, “ ‘Shui neng zai zhou, yi neng fu zhou,’ the water that floats a boat may also sink it. The incredible violence of the creation of the Universe made life possible today. The incredible violence of its final disruption will make life impossible in some distant tomorrow. We’re riding the crest of a wave that will eventually collapse and merge into another phase of existence, as all things do. But, by the time our collective extinction rolls around, humanity — whatever that term may mean by then — may well have figured out what other universes lie elsewhere, or elsewhen, and how to get there. Perhaps our own distant progeny will number among them, or our distant relations off among the stars.”

He caught her attention with a piercing glance, and in it she saw why he was a popular lecturer; he believed in what he spoke, and had the ability to help others to share his enthusiasm, as difficult as the concepts might be, “Whatever they look like — surely not like us, as they too evolve toward the future — they will be a part of us, even if they live in distant galaxies, since all life is related. Perhaps they’ll swim in the vast oceans of Jupiter, or fly through interstellar space on wings of light, or exist as merged galactic, or even Universal consciousnesses which incorporate all life and all creation into a single gestalt.”

Her father opened his arms to encompass the world around him, “Genetic materials are everywhere in space, falling as a gift onto every world, whether life takes root there or not. Our genes have the knack of survival built into them, and our new ability to almost instantly incorporate the survival traits of any living being into our own repertoire has given us an advantage never seen before in the history of life on Earth, as far as we know. We’re already able to take our first steps into other dimensions. The power we draw from just a tiny movement perpendicular to every dimension of our ordinary 4-D Universe is nothing compared to what else may be out there. We’re infants, playing on a beach we haven’t even opened our eyes to see, while the great ocean lies just beyond our reach.”

He focused his attention again on Sa’aan personally, “We’re survivors, you and I, with a distinguished heritage that now includes every living being on Earth, and will eventually expand to include all life in the Universe. Humanity, and all of life on Earth, is burgeoning in an explosion of genetic diversity not seen since the Cambrian Era, and exceeds even that great period of change in that adaptations which took eons then now take mere generations.”

Her father reached out with infinite tenderness and touched the side of her head, bending down with the lithe flexibility that was part of his gift, “You yourself are an exemplar of this, as you’ve been wonderfully outfitted as a pioneer, venturing into an entirely new realm for humanity, one which may be more stable over the long term than our life on terra firma. I can only dimly imagine the future into which you, your children, and your children’s children, will travel, but it fills me with hope and love.”

He rose again, “And in some sense we’ll always be alive, all of us, even when the universe explodes due to the failure of gravitation, because we will always exist at this point of our universal timeline, living this moment forever, alive and thankful for the gift of life.”

His mother interrupted, gently, and with love, “Dearest Simon, I think that’s quite enough,

Sa’aan responded quickly, “Mom! I forgot you were listening! But it was totally

Her mother said sternly, obviously aware of her daughter’s unseen presence, “Sa’aan! Is that you? I know you’re excited, but there are social protocols that govern the use of telesensory powers. You’re supposed to ‘knock’ first, or the equivalent by telepathy or BioLync.”

She was instantly abashed and apologized, “I’m sorry. I just learned how to do this today, and haven’t gotten everything down yet. Leana warned me about it, but I forgot when I thought that you were probably with her.”

Leana answered, “That’s OK, sprout. It’s my room and you can figure out the étiquette later. Good to hear from you, Mei-mei. How’s your own little puncture doing?”

Sa’aan was relieved that Leana, at least, wasn’t ticked off at her as she answered, “I think it’s fine, but they’re supposed to be sending another ambulance crew out to check my work, probably not by helicopter, though. I wonder why they used a helicopter when the hospital was so close.”

His mother said, “Just off-hand, I’d guess they didn’t want to drag Leana out past the Purists, lest they think their prayers were answered.”

Sa’aan retorted, “Oh, they were answered alright, but they probably won’t like the bill for postage due.”

Leana asked, “Speaking of which, have you heard back from the police about the ‘alleged’ assailant?”

Sa’aan burst out, “Not yet, although they did tell me he’s in custody. I don’t expect we’ll hear anything further for several days at least, if ever.”

Leana drawled, “That makes sense. The police were pretty cagey with me when they came for my statement, and I got the strong impression that they thought that I really ought to be too dazed and confused to remember anything at all clearly. So I was slightly at sea, if you’ll pardon the quip, not being entirely loathe to take a hint. I wish I’d had one of these Victorian ‘fainting couches’ to swoon on and a dainty fan to flutter. I was positively fragile.”

Sa’aan snickered at the thought of her rough and tumble sister striking a delicate pose with an antique fan and said, “I had the same impression on this end. They didn’t want me talking about what really happened and made it pretty clear that my own memories were probably hallucinations caused by shock and loss of blood, not to forget that I’m a ‘mere’ child. Without trying too hard for the quip, we’re evidently in deep waters here, too dangerous and frightening for little girls.”

Leana laughed, “I’ll get you for that, Mei-mei! Just you wait, see, ‘til I bust outta dis crummy joint. I’ll ‘little girl’ you, see!” Leana was doing it again, talking like a gangster, entirely with her mind.

Sa’aan laughed with her, “It wasn’t me! I was just relaying the sage and considered opinion of the official police. Speaking of which, when are you going to be set free from durance vile? Or should I say ‘stir?’ ”

Leana sighed, “Probably not before the late afternoon tomorrow, or even the day after. It shouldn’t be much longer than that, since I have the advantage of toting around a personal healer to keep the flesh knitting and the bone building non-stop, where your average Jill off the street has to arrange sessions by the minute. Mom’s helping too, while she’s here, so we’re just trucking along lickety-split. You did a good job, according to the local healers, although I think they were irritated to hear that you were only fifteen years old.”

Their mother interrupted, “Girls! Have a little respect! The doctors have studied long and hard to be able to handle many types of disease. Simple traumas, even shattered bones, are very straightforward by comparison. Leana’s very lucky there was so little nerve damage. Restoring major nerve pathways can take weeks, even with your own personal healer on call twenty-four/seven, and it’s tricky. I couldn’t do it, and I’m not a complete idiot at rough and ready healing, just not powerful or dexterous enough to be a medical healer. You are, Leana, as you well know, and I think Sa’aan is too, from what I saw when I was helping her hold that pretty leg you’re so proud of together until the professionals arrived. I don’t think either of you are quite ready for nerve regeneration, or most of the really sticky bits involving hormone regulation and complex biosystems. You’ll both need a few more years of school before you can hang out your shingle as medical doctors and healers.”

Sa’aan was about to answer when she saw a man approach the top of the stairs, “Whoops! Pirates off the bow! Hang on a bit.”

The man started down the stairs as her father turned to watch, tensing slightly before the man called out, “Hello! The house looked empty, so I walked around back. I’m from the hospital. I was told to expect a special sort of patient but not to make a fuss getting in. So I left the bus behind, and the crew as well. Am I at the right address?”

Sa’aan quickly grasped that the man was on their side, and the fact that he was a wolf Chimera helped to allay even her slight suspicion, so she immediately relayed their safety to her mother and Leana, “It’s alright. He’s just the doctor from the hospital, I think. I’ll keep the relay open so you can hear what’s going on. Do you want a vid link too? I can set up one from my end, or grab an overview from one of the house cams.”

Her mother replied, “Don’t bother. We can link to a house feed if we become morbidly curious, so you just carry on and follow the doctor’s advice.”

Sa’aan’s father answered. “Right you are! The patient is my daughter, Sa’aan, whom you see before you.”

“My word! So you’re the celebrity. I wondered what the crowd out front were on about. I’m Dr. Friedrich Gustavson, but you can call me Fred. What’s up with you, Sa’aan,” he said as he walked down the stairs and over to the pool.

“My daughter was shot by a man with a rifle, but is an untrained healer and did a little first aid on herself while we were waiting for the professionals. Would you mind taking a look?”

“Not at all. Although I’m blessed if I know how to bill this. Is the health service picking up the tab, do you know?”

“Yes, it will be. I’m employed at the university, and am on the tax rolls even as we speak. Sa’aan is my minor daughter, and covered as a member of my family and legal full-time resident. Would you mind linking in? Although Sa’aan can hear quite well, she finds it easier to converse electronically.”

The man fiddled with his BioLync for a second, “Not at all, how’s this?”

Sa’aan spoke up, “Just fine, Doctor. You’re on a multi-linked conference call, as my mother is with my sister, over in the hospital, since she was wounded too. The bullet hit me here, in my left flank.” She rolled over so he could see, “It was aimed pretty well toward my heart, but my sister’s leg slowed it enough that it didn’t penetrate all that far. At first I thought that the shot had gone astray because I was moving fast, but now I think that he was only off by a little bit, and might have succeeded in killing me if Leana’s leg hadn’t slowed the bullet. Or maybe both of us. He was certainly trying to shoot us again when things went wrong on his end.”

The doctor knelt down at the edge of the pool, then decided that sitting on the edge with his legs dangling in the water allowed a better angle, and finally reached out to touch the area near the wound, concentrating for a drawn-out moment, then started speaking in a somber tone as his examination and initial healing continued, “I wouldn’t worry too much about him, as I helped treat him. He won’t be out of bed any time soon, And if one credits the odd bits of police gossip let slip by the two constables in attendance, he won’t be out of custody before he’s a very old man, if ever. Just between you and me, he made a huge mistake in trying to shoot someone in Canada, since the normal protections in regard to self-incrimination don’t apply in cases of murderous assault with a deadly weapon, and the authorities were in the process of executing a search warrant on the contents of his brain even as I healed him. His accomplices, each and every one, are headed for an extended sojourn in the provincial prison even as we speak and won’t be out until they’ve ‘reformed,’ which they’ll have to prove by submitting to an intrusive mental examination. I daresay they’ll be very old too, before they succeed in changing their own minds about Chimeræ. It’s devilishly difficult to reason your way out of a position you didn’t reason yourself into in the first place.”

His tone abruptly changed from serious to cheerful good humor, “But now let’s talk about you. You’ve done very well for a novice, but your technique could be improved slightly. Take a look here at the margins of the wound. Can you see how the tissues are forming a fibrous scar instead of normal muscle and derma? This is perfectly normal, in that it’s what the tissues want to do, since their reactions are designed to get their bodies fit to move as soon a possible. But we have other issues, including æsthetics. Ideally, you’ll want to encourage the growth of as much perfectly normal tissue as possible, despite the fact that the results are somewhat slower to appear. It’s nothing that can’t be remedied, but ordinary scar tissue isn’t as useful or flexible as the original, and can be a source of lasting weakness or discomfort. See what I’m doing here?” He was gently dissolving some of the fibrous tissue and aligning normal cells to take their place, mapping out areas of revascularization and nerve proliferation at the same time, “Mind you, what you’ve done already is perfectly serviceable, but with a little more finesse you can avoid visible scarring and preserve much more muscle functionality in the affected area. Here, you try it. It takes a fine touch but you’ve definitely got the knack.” He let Sa’aan inspect his work and allowed her to do some of the work on her own.

She was fascinated by his skill, and eagerly tried to duplicate what he’d done. “Is this right?”

“That’s very good. Not too much vascularization, though. And try to weave the collagen proteins in their normal basket-weave structure as much as possible. You’ll need a small proportion of connective fibers orthogonal to the wound, just to hold it all together during healing, but not too much. Everything should be balanced and self-sustaining. Homeostasis, we call it. You’ll want to restore the texture and quality of the surrounding normal tissues, especially the dermis, as much as possible. Scar tissue is an inferior sort of stuff, and can cause problems later on. You’ll need a bit of collagen, but not too much, connecting the cells. And make sure that most of it is normal collagen and cells, not that dense mat of thick ropy glue that the body tries to make on its own around a wound. Just copy the deep structure of the undamaged tissues around the wound and you’ll do fine.”

“Like this?” Sa’aan was really concentrating now, and thought she was doing much better.

He answered, “Exactly. You’re doing fine, and it doesn’t have to be done all at once, since you can work at the cellular level, rather than the gross anatomical level once used by surgeons. Just set aside an hour or two from time to time to observe the tissues, including the normal ones around the injury. Then do a little fiddling with anything you see that isn’t right. It’s a good habit for every healer, because you always have a body available to observe and to practice on, and it’s quite possible to catch many potential problems long before they become detectable by physical diagnostic tests. You won’t want to muck about with endocrine levels until you have a better grounding in physiology and anatomy, but you do want to just stand back and observe your normal functioning periodically. That way, if things do go wrong, you’ll be able to see it and seek help, or even suss out how to fix it, although I do urge you to start taking the normal pre-med track in school and get some theory tucked away in that peculiar brain of yours.”

Sa’aan felt a wave of mixed embarrassment and pride wash over her when he said that, but didn’t respond.

Fred smiled at her, and spoke earnestly, “You’ll get the hang of it straightaway. And I’m dreadfully sorry about the intrusive comment about ‘peculiarity.’ I do apologize, but you really are a puzzle. I do hope you’re willing to work with someone, I don’t dare suggest myself, since I’m only an internist, and a complete klutz at times, but you simply must work with someone.”

Sa’aan hastened to reassure him, “Don’t worry about me. I know my brain is different from what it used to be, and am pleased with it, all in all. I was treated and tested by a lot of specialists back in Florida, and I do realize that I owe a lot to all the people who worked so very hard to keep me alive when I transitioned. It was a combination of sheer luck and incredible effort that I’m here today, so I know I’ve got to give something back.

Fred said quite earnestly, “You have enough raw talent and power to be something quite special in this healing business, if you put your mind to it. Have you considered a career in medicine yet?”

Sa’aan answered, “Not yet. My sister is quite good, and is taking courses and everything already, but this is all so new to me that I haven’t given it a lot of thought yet.”

Fred paused for a bit, “Quite rightly. I see from your chart that you’re still quite young, but do think about it. We have so few truly gifted healers available to us, and every one is a treasure. If you like, I’ll make a recommendation to your school, if you have one picked out already.”

Sa’aan said, “I think I’d like that. I don’t know what school I’ll be going to, although I suspect my parents do. I’ve really just arrived today and so much has happened already.”

Fred said, “Well, I hope to keep in touch. If you’re going to the local high school, here on campus, I may run into you, as I teach an hour of pre-med there every week. I’ll be back tomorrow in any case, both to touch up the ongoing healing process and to give you a few more hints about fully restoring your hypodermis, muscle fibers, and other tissues. I’ll have to do a bit of research as well. Your skin is especially adapted to salt water, not like ordinary skin at all, and helps to protect you from getting that ‘bathtub’ wrinkly look, so we’ll need to make sure that everything is put back in perfect order. I myself will have to review the literature before mucking about too much. Don’t try to do everything on your own yet, as the skin is a very complicated organ, but once you see me do a bit more for you, you’ll probably be itching to do the rest yourself.” He smiled, knowing that Sa’aan’s skin was itching now, and would continue to itch during the healing process.

Sa’aan responded in kind, since she realized that she was being wound up a little, “It sounds like you’re chaffing me right now, Fred, but I don’t feel at all nettled.” Sa’aan was very comfortable with verbal repartee, and usually delighted in it. After the stress of the afternoon, a little light-hearted banter was a welcome relief.

He laughed, “A palpable touch! I can tell I’ll have to watch my step around you.”

She said quickly, “Oh, I don’t know. You’d find it very difficult to tread on my toes.”

Sa’aan made a great show of lifting her tail out of the water, twisting her body so she could see, “It must have been, ’cause it is now.”

He threw up his hands, “I surrender! You beat me fair and square. Seriously though, please don’t muck about too much before I have a chance to show you a bit more. It’s much easier doing it right the first time than having to undo what’s been done and then doing it all over.”

Sa’aan replied with great sincerity, “That sounds fine to me, Fred, and undoubtedly good advice. After seeing you work, I’m feeling decidedly less cocky about my own poor efforts.”

Fred gently rebuked her, “Don’t feel badly about your work at all, Sa’aan! I’ve seen doctors with many years of practice do worse. You have the gift, the true gift, and you should be proud of it. Just don’t try to do everything at once or bite off more than you can chew without a thorough grounding in theory and extensive practice. You kept a cool head in the face of an assault upon your very life, and kept your sister alive, even beginning the process of healing her whilst hauling her to safety on shore at very high speed, from the reports I’ve heard. That’s half of what a medical education is all about, dear, separating the wheat from the chaff, so you have a huge leg up already. Please do keep in touch. I’d be glad to sponsor you or help you to find a mentor at the drop of a hat. But I’d best be on my way. I’ll stop in and see your sister as well, when I get back to the hospital. Two healers in one family, right in our own back yard, will be quite the coup, let me tell you. Is she as good as you are?”

Sa’aan spoke proudly, “She’s pretty good. She could have done everything I did, if she hadn’t been

His eyes widened, then he smiled, “Oh, my. They intrigue me already. I’ll see you tomorrow, and if your mother cares to wait, I’ll see both her and your sister in a few minutes time.”

He swung his legs up from the water and rose powerfully from the side of the pool with masculine grace, trousers dripping with salt water but completely nonchalant, as if sodden dungarees were all the rage this year, and turned to go when her father said, “Excuse me, but would you like a towel or anything?”

He smiled again, in great good humor, “Not at all. I saw a little shower at the bottom of the stairs, so I can rinse off my trousers before I run back to the hospital, and it’s a warm day, so they’ll be perfectly dry by the time I arrive. It will only take a few moments, as I’m a very fast runner. Part wolf, don’t you know? I’ll see you both tomorrow, say noonish? A little after? We’ll see what comes up.” And with that, he bounded to the bottom of the stairs, rinsed the salt water out of his trousers and shoes, and was up the stairs and gone in a sinewy flash.

Chapter Eight — New Horizons

Sa’aan was back out on the water in the middle of the Strait of Georgia, near where they’d first encountered the male orcas, observing the end of the day. The moon was new, and slightly below the horizon, but she’d seen Mercury, Venus, Mars, and Jupiter appear above the western skyline, all in a long row stretching from the west to southeast as the sun set and the sunlight faded from the sky.

On a whim, she toggled a BioLync display overlaying the rest of the planets on her visual field, and saw that Uranus and Neptune were also observable between Jupiter and Mars, but otherwise lost among the faint stars. She could see the lights of navigation markers scattered on the water all around her, the moving constellation of colored lights that marked a northbound tugboat with barges in tow, possibly carrying trade goods and merchandise to the rich farms of Novoarkhangelsk or Bella Coola, the lesser asterisms of a few freighters and a single early ferry headed out from Vancouver toward Victoria.

Other than these, the world was almost as dark as it had been a thousand years before, excessive light spill having been prohibited more than a hundred years ago in the name of energy conservation, by the Canadians at least. There was no electric glow in the sky above Vancouver, as there had been over Dallas and even individual farms in the RSA. Even Vancouver was largely invisible, other than the few lighted channel markers that traced a path toward its distant harbor, the glowing windows of a few hillside homes, and air navigation beacons on several of the fringing mountains and a communications tower.

To the south, Sa’aan knew that Seattle was a thriving city, yet she couldn’t see its light signature over the horizon, so it must follow the Canadian norms now, rather than those of the old USA.

The starry night sky spun slowly overhead, and now Saturn and the Pleiades, an open star cluster that was, collectively, one of the fifteen Behenian Fixed Stars of ancient astrology and magic, secret root of the spiritual powers of the Moon and Mars, revealer of secrets, and guardian of the eyes, were rising a little to the north of due east. The western glow of the twilight was rapidly fading from the sky behind her, and full night was come. The sky was filled to bursting with stars: Altair, Markab, Scheat, Vega, Sadr, Mizar, Alkaid, Deneb, Arcturus, Merak and Dubhe, Sadal Malik, Ancha, Al Bali, Tarazed, the two star asterism named Deneb el Okab, the ‘tail of the eagle,’ Alshain, Rasalhague, Cebalrai, Sabik, Han, Ruchbah, Schedar, Mirfak, Yed Prior and Posterior, Antares, the red ‘enemy of Mars,’ another of the Behenian stars, well-known to Persian astrologers, Dschubba, Graffias, Rasalgethi, Kornephoros, Kitalpha, Polaris, Sualocin, Albireo, Deneb Algiedi, the ‘tail of the goat,’ yet another Behenian root, linking Saturn and Mercury, Nashira, Dabih, Al Giedi, Baham, Enif, Algenib, Sadal Bari, Almach, Er Rai, Capella, Muscida, Talitha, Algol, another of the Behenian Stars, Phecda, Megrez, Abik, Tania Australis and Borealis, Cor Caroli, Chara, Heze, Eltanin, and more, the ancient names rolling through her brain as if she heard the learned astronomers of Saladin’s Court speaking among themselves at the height of Kurdish power. It was 8:30 in the early evening. The sea was stunningly beautiful, the faint sheen of starlight coating the dark ripples and low swells of the Strait like a gossamer veil over finest Samite.

Being sleepless had one huge advantage; she had a lot of time to think with one half of her divided brain while the other dozed. She used the opportunity to meditate on her natural surroundings, which could hardly be more beautiful, the calm waters of the Inland Passage contrasting with the wooded hills and mountains of the Strait plunging sharply into the water. The fact that she was never ‘tired’ intrigued her, and her powers of concentration never waned, even when she allowed half of her brain to dream. Even her dreams seemed more focused, more intentional, as she processed the memories of the preceding day, and more accessible than she’d ever experienced in her old body. She could actually observe her dreams from the active half of her brain, although the ‘connection’ was weak, which she supposed was a byproduct of the relatively small corpus callosum that allowed her to separate her consciousness to begin with.

Right now she wasn’t concentrating on anything in particular, just idly musing on the random thoughts that crossed her mind. She fell into a rhythm which felt comfortable to her, submerging and sinking slowly through the water until she felt the outside pressure increase to just the right level, then rising to the surface with a lazy flip of her tail where she breathed and looked around. The cycle took ten minutes, more or less, and felt as comfortable as lazing in a hammock on a warm summer’s day, although she knew that the water was actually just a little above fifty degrees Fahrenheit. She supposed that she’d have to get used to thinking in Celsius, since they were living in Canada now, so she did the calculation in her head, coming out with eleven degrees.

In her former body, she would have been going into an immobile torpor by now, although her then reptilian metabolism had been much more tolerant of cold than those with more mammalian gene sequences. She wondered what the weather would be like up in Alaska, and whether she’d need a passport to travel into arctic waters. She’d have to ask Nakia about it, but a quick search of international maritime law argued against it. Although she was a citizen of the RSA, she was also in at least one sense a stateless person. Moreover, since she would never ‘disembark’ onto dry land, and was always ‘in transit,’ she might never have to clear customs at all, at least theoretically. She imagined the lawyers would have a fine time figuring out what was what.

Then she thought about Leana, still in hospital, but resisted the idea of checking up on her, wary of her mother’s warning that it wasn’t polite to do this without permission.

She wondered about the Purists, and about what her father had said concerning their unacknowledged chimeric genetic makeup. She couldn’t understand their intolerance, since it had been obvious almost from the beginning that anyone could be affected, and that the people who came down with full chimerism with visible hybridization shared no particular traits in common, other than the luck of the draw, living in a particular place at a particular time, and as she now knew, exposed to its genetic dust and environmental mutagens. Then she thought about superstitions, and reasoned that perhaps the Purists were so afraid of being changed against their will, into what they saw as a perversion of humanity itself, that they persuaded themselves that they might be spared if they held onto even their spurious humanity with particular fervor, crossing their fingers, carrying lucky charms and amulets, loudly declaring the holiness of ‘pure’ humanity, and decrying those who succumbed to any visible deviation from the ‘human’ norm as sinners and deviates.

But if they’d thought about it, she reasoned, they would have seen that the so-called Chimeric Plague had actually saved the world. The sudden crash in global human populations had done more to slow down global warming than all the palaver and jawboning before the plague had ever done. The direct effect was huge in itself, with ninety percent or more of humanity no longer consuming any sort of fossil fuel. But the secondary effects were even larger. Many areas had lost what thin veneer of technology they’d managed to achieve through the deaths of most of the people needed to run the machines, or repair them when they broke down. So the total human output of greenhouse gases had fallen to perhaps five percent of their former levels almost overnight.

Here the Purists had gone looking for miracles, she realized with a sudden frisson, and petitioned Heaven for special approval, but the subtle irony of their situation was entirely lost on them. All the classic symptoms of Heaven’s intervention were right before their eyes, but they couldn’t see them. They themselves had been denied the stigmata of the miracle and so denied their import when they saw the visible signs of grace in others. They’d found themselves, to their great surprise, the has-beens and leftovers of the great reworking, when humanity and the world had been born anew, but through some divine oversight had been permanently denied the center stage.

Their stupid and almost incomprehensible hostility now seems, she thought, more like jealousy and spite. And maybe their fear feeds their jealousy, which feeds their fear in turn, in a vicious downward spiral which leads then straight to hatred and bigotry.

Bored with musing, she decided to go over the procedures for accessing her mobile units, which she’d practiced with using simulator software in Florida, but had never actually tried, other than to check the various inputs and control circuits. Their storage container near the pool was accessible through her BioLync, so she took a look inside. She saw the four ‘garages’ for her land and water mobiles, clearly marked, but there were two more, one fairly large and one smallish by comparison.

Curious, she chose a different camera and angled it to inspect the entrances, then zoomed in to read the label on the largest. It was from Mr. Jefferson, and said only, ‘Surprise!’ with his signature underneath. She panned the camera to the smaller garage and saw that its label said,‘Encore!’ with his signature again. She was intrigued. Poking around in the methods advertised by the ‘Surprise!’ garage, she found the controls for its door and opened it. Inside was a miniature airship, about six meters long and two and a half meters in diameter, fitted out with a plethora of secure methods allowing her to access and control several cameras, audio pickups, and even a remote manipulator on a small lifting crane. Upon closer inspection of the methods available, she saw that the hull was made of a flexible photovoltaic and vidscreen material combined, and also contained an embedded piezoelectric sound system that turned the airship itself into a largish multimedia platform, so she could do her own street theatricals if she wanted to. There appeared to be empty space and circuitry in the interior for up to sixteen other gadgets as required, and enough access ports to allow for connecting these to the mobile data backbone. During the day, the range of the airship was essentially limited only by the availability of sunlight, but was reduced to perhaps a hundred miles or so on stored power at night or under heavy cloud cover, depending on the wind. The cruising speed was thirty miles an hour, although it could do fifty or more by routing both solar and stored power to its propellers.

She was stunned. This was seriously jing-tsai. Although she now had the ability to see remotely, at least within a few miles, she hadn’t fully tested her range yet. This tool would allow her to hear and interact with her environment as well as see, and would extend her range almost without limit. She turned to the next enclosure, ‘Encore!’ As it opened, she could see that the object inside looked very much like a large albatross, obviously meant to be another, but more inconspicuous, ærial observation platform. Looking at the available methods, she could see that it wasn’t as versatile as the airship but had greater speed — up to ninety miles an hour, although the average soaring speed was closer to twenty miles an hour — and could handle fairly high winds with impunity. It had an onboard AI with a repertoire of station-keeping and soaring behaviors, as well as waypoint navigation, observation, and avoidance routines. It might have been made-to-order for her present needs — Basically, as long as the weather was moderately coöperative, she could station it in soaring mode for long-term surveillance of a given area with very low expenditure of energy and only intermittent attention, since it could be set to notify her of unexpected activities or projected weather changes within delineated areas. In good visibility, she could station the ‘bird’ high in the sky and keep a vicarious lookout for activities all around her, or even seek out areas far away, should she have a mind to. She could not only look, but also listen, and talk, and there were even methods available for picking up small objects in its beak and clawed feet. It was also a lot smaller than the airship, despite a twelve foot wingspan. She could fold its wings and walk it through a smallish doorway, for example, or into a crevice between rocks.

She was awed by Mr. Jefferson’s generosity; she’d thought never to experience flying again, after her trip in his airship, but he’d given her the gift of the skies at will, mediated by the limitations of indirect experience, but under her direct control.

She opened a delay circuit to Mr. Jefferson’s link address and began a message, “Hi, Mr. Jefferson. I just opened your presents and wanted to thank you so much! It’s the middle of the night right now, but they’re just perfect! With my other mobiles, I can go to school and do useful tasks, but these two will let me have too much fun! Thanks so much again! I’ll talk to you later.”

She was tempted to take at least one of them out for a spin, but then thought that, if she messed up, one of her new toys might get blown away or wind up in Davy Jones’ locker. Best to wait until daylight for the shakedown cruise, she thought, and compromised by reading the manuals at high speed, glancing at the diagrams when she had to, and keeping half an eye on her physical surroundings at the same time. The instructions included dedicated simulator software which was almost as much fun as flying for real, although she couldn’t devote more than a few minutes at a time because it demanded full attention in accelerated mode, because of the demands it made on her visual cortex. In the brief snatches she allowed herself between keeping watch around her resting body, she saw that both mobiles would give her the ability to quickly explore the entire Pacific Northwest from high above the water and even venture into the air above the land.

She used the albatross simulator in normal mode to get a feel for the local waters, Vancouver and the campus, and then used the accelerated mode to cruise the complex waters and islands of the inland passage from Seattle to Victoria, and then up to Prince Rupert, Novoarkhangelsk, and beyond at high speed. She was pleased to see that flying was a lot like swimming for her, a three-dimensional integration of perception and motion in a fluid medium. The simulation must have been created especially for her, since its display accommodated her visual range and physiology perfectly, including her ability to move and focus each eye separately, and had the ability to ‘fly’ underwater, so she could use it to explore her underwater realm as well. The intellectual symmetry of the experience was pleasant for her, too, her ocean home being bounded at the top by the airy fluid of the sky above her — the natural home of the birds, and now her two mobiles — which was in turn bounded at the bottom by the uncertain interface between them. She inhabited that interface, the frontier, being connected to the airy world above the boundary by kinship and interest, as well as by her need to breathe, but also to the sea below by adaptation and genetic history. She couldn’t survive without access to both, the water to support her body and allow motion, and the atmosphere to breathe.

So here she was on the frontier between the dissolving land and the villi of the encroaching sea, within an intricate web of water and earth. At least I’m on the right side of the border, she thought to herself, but then remembered that pollution of the oceans was still a huge problem, despite the smaller human population. She thought about this for a while, checking references via her BioLync. They had the start of a handle on warming, she found, having declared the atmosphere a legal person back in the middle of the last century, so atmospheric pollution was now a crime against humanity, after several lawsuits before the World Court and the eventual declaration by the UN that violations of the natural rights of the global atmosphere were a legitimate cause of war, and indeed it was the duty of every country with the power to do so to intervene with deadly force, if necessary, to force a polluter to stop. Several UN-sponsored incursions were made to destroy fossil fuel power plants before the lesson took hold, but the only use now made of ancient fuels was in pharmaceutical and chemical feedstocks or for limited scientific or military purposes. All such uses were carefully monitored and rationed by an international greenhouse gas tribunal, with very limited emissions permitted based on actual population and demonstrated need.

But there were still vast areas of land leaching ancient toxins into the rivers, and thence to the sea, and the sunken hulks of thousands of ships littered the ocean floor, beyond the reach of remediation attempts even today, slowly leaking their deadly cargoes into the deep. Many crews had been stricken with the first, mostly fatal, chimeric transitions far from land, and had perished before the ships could be salvaged and piloted to safe destinations so, in the general chaos, many had run aground, or foundered during storms, or just drifted until their hulls rusted out and they went down.

The desertification of the most populated regions of the world helped by making it easier to replace most uses of fossil fuels, even at the reduced levels of energy required by a smaller population. Solar power became much more economical with less cloud cover, and the development of amorphous self-aligning dielectric coatings which could be sprayed on almost any surface made huge solar arrays possible at very low cost. Every building and vehicle nowadays was a cheap source of solar power, and vast areas of the world’s expanding deserts were now covered by simple solar panels, which helped as well to reduce global temperatures by reflecting a portion of the incoming solar energy back into space.

Carbon dioxide levels were still creeping up, though, because of thawing permafrost in the arctic and drought-induced deforestation, exacerbated by increased volcanic activity in Antarctica and Greenland, whose slow rebound from the weight of continental ice sheets had destressed the underlying rocks and created several new and spectacularly active volcanoes, although the volcanic particulates dumped into the atmosphere paradoxically helped to lower surface temperatures, despite the increased levels of greenhouse gasses caused by volcanism. The slowly increasing carbon dioxide levels themselves were only partially offset by algæ farms and other sequestration projects which were burying organic matter far below many of the same geological formations which had previously yielded oil and gas, but it was a start. Some scientists even theorized that these new deposits would eventually be converted into petroleum and ‘natural’ gas, after being acted upon by subterranean heat and pressure for a few million years.

As she was thinking about the world above the water, she heard a jumbled chorus of fins passing by a few hundred yards to the east. She woke the half of her brain that was currently dreaming and brought both hemispheres to bear on their range and exact bearing. From the manner in which the sounds echoed through a myriad of paths, and the character of the sound pattern, they appeared to be coming from a shoal of herring. That piqued her interest. She roused herself fully and edged toward the oncoming fish without making a sound.

She wished she had the support of the orcas from the day before, but decided to try the screen of bubbles she’d seen the males use to good effect. The herring hadn’t yet noticed her, as far as she could tell, when she put on a burst of speed, dove down and blew a long trail of air, doubled back and rose behind the startled fish, snatching a few large mouthfuls and stunning quite a few with her flukes before they scattered. They were all quite tasty.

She felt quite pleased with herself, having provided something for her own support, even if it hadn’t been as quite as lucrative in terms of sheer numbers of fish as the joint effort had been. She could see why coöperation was a better strategy for the long haul, but she thought that she could survive even on her own, if she had to.

Now that the fish were warned of her presence, she had no particular need for stealth, and used a series of sonar clicks to take a wide ‘look’ around her. She could ‘see’ the contour of the bottom as a continuation of the mountainous islands that surrounded the Strait, forming a coherent vista of drowned valleys not immediately apparent from the bits one could see above the water, which in turn implied that the bits now below the sea had at one time been above. During ice ages, she presumed, and soon made sure through accessing materials available on the net. To her surprise, it turned out that average sea levels had been much higher throughout most of the Earth’s past, as much as two hundred meters above the levels of what was thought of as the onset of global warming back in Twentieth Century, but had in fact been much lower during some, but not all Ice Ages. The main differences between one ice age and the next, and the sea levels during each, were caused by how many of Earth’s continents were clustered near the Poles, and therefore available as platforms on which vast areas of glaciation could accumulate.

Antarctica and Greenland were the only stable platforms for ice sheets recently, so sea levels had been relatively high, despite the fact that the Earth was emerging from a recent Ice Age, but still enough that a land bridge between Asia and Alaska had formed as the seas subsided, caught up as freshwater ice, and had been stable until quite recently, at least in geologic terms, whilst in the Cretaceous, back when dinosaurs still walked the earth, the world’s oceans had once covered much of what are now the great plains of North America, splitting it neatly in two. In a way, her recent trip across the southern plains had duplicated a trip that she herself could have made many millions of years ago, swimming high above the future plains of Louisiana, Texas, and New Mexico, and able to range at will all through the middle of the RSA and Canada, when the mighty Mississippi river was only a possibility.

Worldwide, the effects were similar, drowning much of Europe, South America, North Africa and the Middle East, whilst the whole Atlantic Ocean was only a sliver of what it would become, because the rift between the Americas and Europe and Africa had opened recently, and the Pacific Ocean spanned more than half the globe. Sa’aan could only imagine the violence of the storms on that vast ocean, with thousands of miles of fetch to allow storm waves to build. Yet that was the ocean into which the first whales had ventured, millions of years later, since the Indian subcontinent had yet to crash into Asia. They still had feet back then, the mammalian equivalent of crocodiles, growing wilier and more intelligent as they pursued their prey. She wondered when the breakthrough happened, when the first whale thought, ‘I want this,’ and when they became a community of individuals, like the two youngsters she and her sister had encountered.

She supposed echolocation would have come naturally, since it had developed independently in several species over the long history of the Earth, bats, shrews, some birds, and then the whales, their common environments incorporating darkness, or the exploitation of darkness. Not a bad trade-off.

All in all, her current sensorium was much richer and had greater resolution than her former abilities, but there were exceptions. Her vision was capable of seeing quite clearly in very low light, but she was also partially color blind, although the ocular implants gave her a semblance of full color vision for digital feeds. She had to concentrate on perceiving the enhanced color range, though, so it wasn’t quite the same, although her doctors back in Florida had assured her that, with use, the circuitry of color perception would strengthen in her brain.

On the other hand, her hearing was superb. She could hear sounds as highly pitched as a hundred and twenty kilohertz, about the same as an average bat, and well into the subsonic, with a processing rate high enough to make all these much more useful than they would have been in her old body. And her ability to form a picture in her mind based on reflected sounds really counted as another ‘visual’ sense entirely. Unlike normal vision, though, her acoustic imaging faculties were quite capable of seeing through the skin and deep into the interior of living beings, so she lived in a kind of transparent world, with glassy creatures floating through it whose every secret place was open to her perception.

Her sense of taste was pretty much the same as ever, although she ate so quickly that she never had much time to do much more than notice the saltiness of the water and the less salty taste of blood. She supposed that not cooking things eliminated a lot of variations, since spices and sauces were pretty much out of the question, but she could easily distinguish the taste of the herring from that of the salmon, which was all she’d really had to eat since waking up after transition.

Her sense of touch seemed entirely the same, although of course she had no hands. Her skin was very sensitive. perhaps more sensitive than ever before, since she could now feel movements in the water around her, and certain low frequency sounds at great distances. But she could still act upon her world with her powerful flukes, her jaws and teeth, and her fins, even without her new powers of

And, in return for minor losses, she had vastly more valuable mental powers of observation and manipulation on several levels, more than she’d ever dreamed possible. Five senses….

Wait a minute. There are five senses and I just counted four. What am I missing? She took inventory and didn’t seem to be missing anything, but then went at it backwards, reasoning from her memory of what the five senses were. She had a clear picture in her head of an illustration from her last year’s science text, a human head with prominent eyes, ears, tongue, hands, and nose, which puzzled her, since she couldn’t quite grasp how breathing was a sense. That’s odd, she thought, There’s something else about a nose… — Smell! The really curious thing was that she had no idea what smell was. The concept had vanished from her repertoire of ideas, whatever it had been, as if it had never been. She was quite taken aback by the realization.

Quickly, she woke the slumbering half of her brain and accessed her BioLync interfaces with both halves of her complex brain, attacking both sides of her problem at once:

Leaving the right half of her brain to go about its business, she used her left hemisphere to explore what she’d apparently lost.

She looked for smell, which led her to odor and the olfactory lobe in the human brain, the intricate mechanisms whereby the human nose detects different chemical compounds and relays them to the brain, where many potent mechanisms of association and memory as well as physiological responses were located. That led to anosmia and the various pathologies that led to the condition in humans.

She was glad they had a name for it, anyway, since that meant that there were others with the same ‘problem,’ despite the fact that she couldn’t make herself think of it as a problem at all.

Curiouser and curiouser, she mused. Here I am slip sliding away without my knowledge or consent and I can’t even get worked up about it. She found her way to Vilayanur Ramachandran

A medical doctor and neurologist well-known for his work in behavioral neurology and psychophysics, and especially the neurological bases of our appreciation of art and other æsthetic stimuli.

His work in the field of synesthesia formed the original impetus behind the development of cochlear and ocular implants, the neuromapping processes that make these possible, as well as modern ultrareality enhancements to these basic telepresence interfaces.

, an early pioneer in modern neuroscience, and worked her way through his Phantoms of the Brain and a few of his lectures on art before following a reference to , whom she didn’t like quite as much. Sachs was interesting, but Ramachandran was as delightful to read as watching a child at play, always managing to convey his own sense of wonder and awe, even in the middle of an earnest discussion. He would have liked to study her, she decided, and wondered briefly what had happened to him, since he would have been alive at the first onset of the Chimeric Plague. She didn’t want to find out, though, and avoided looking at the biographical references.

Drawing together the two parallel threads of her research, she could understand what had happened, and even see the humor in it. She laughed at her own joke.

Still a little drowsy from her slumber, she decided to research whale anatomy and physiology. Her search was frustrating, though, and more than a little morbid, because most researchers seemed to have studied only corpses, and studying smell and other perceptions required living subjects. Eventually, she decided to attack the problem through brain physiology, reasoning that every sense left physical traces in the brain.

She looked for Orca orcinus and then olfactory lobe, quickly discovering that she probably didn’t have one, the sense of smell being far less useful to a creature living in the sea than were eyesight and hearing. The mystery then was why the concept had entirely disappeared from her memory.

She found a clue in studies of stroke patients whose body images had been drastically altered by the destruction of one or more parts of the brain. Evidently, the brain drove the body image, and not the reverse, so the naive idea that one possessed this or that body part was only a coïncidence, or at best a polite fiction, since the brain could ‘forget’ the presence of an arm or leg as quickly as a sand castle, overwhelmed by a wave, dissolves into the beach.

With the disappearance of her olfactory lobe, her brain had evidently developed a form of somatic amnesia, probably helped along by the months she’d been unconscious during her transition. The whole thing was quite astonishing, but made a strange sort of sense. She didn’t really miss having hands and feet nor did she regret the muscular accessories that made them useful. These ambulatory concepts hadn’t disappeared from her brain as thoroughly as had odors and the art of smelling them, but that was probably because she’d seen people walking around and manipulating things, and could grasp what all those funny bipedal bits did, at least for humans, but it was awfully hard to see people smelling. She smiled at the witticism, glad she hadn’t lost her touch. So it turns out that a rose by any other brain might not smell as sweet, she soliloquized, but losing my sense of humor would really stink.

Sometimes she wished that her parents were like other parents, able to rattle off the names of the current vidstars and/or sports teams and reliably comment on what happened in the news last night. But both were historians of knowledge, with different but overlapping specialties. Both could be relied upon to tell you what happened on this day a thousand years ago, or two, or three, but were unlikely to remember what had happened in the modern world the week before last.

Oh, well, she thought to herself, If they were normal, I’d be normal too, and I wouldn’t be me.

The sounds of life on the water were picking up rapidly, as the ferries began their daily runs and the short-haul packets began their journeys. She could faintly hear heavy machinery across the strait, the whistles and bells of maritime navigation, the flutter of rigging and sails being set to the wind, and the cries of seagulls demanding their share of whatever anyone else was having. The world inland was beginning its day as well; an airship was rising rapidly to cruising altitude from Vancouver, headed south, navigation strobes clearly visible against the crepuscular sky. Beneath these, and most interesting, she heard the faint sound of a large number of orcas from the north approaching in no particular hurry. They’re probably coming to see me, she reasoned, since that was where their lunch companions of the previous day had gone.

She wasn’t especially worried, since her first encounter with wild orcas had gone well, and she’d been of real service to them, so she decided to announce her presence with a series of echolocation clicks, and then headed north to meet them, periodically ‘pinging’ the surrounding area so they could infer her openness and curiosity. Reassuringly, they did the same, and spoke a series of phrases that evidently announced their home ranges, since she could now see that they duplicated in broad strokes the sonic shape of the Strait and the larger islands, from the far north of Vancouver Island down to Seattle, with both the inland waters and the open sea implied. It was very accurate, so much so that she easily recognized it from her simulated flight above the area earlier that night. It must be like introducing yourself to a stranger by telling them what you do, or what city you come from, she decided. Howdy pardner, Ah’m from Colorado. They call me Campanella Sue. Then she laughed at the incongruity of killer whales talking like antique cowboys in a vidpic saloon. After some thought, she traced for them the remembered contours of her former mountain home, including ‘The Lake,’ Lake Frying Pan, back to them, but showed her ‘range’ as excluding the waters of the lake itself.

This startled them, she could tell from the burst of sounds that passed between them, since she’d placed the image in what for them was ‘outer space,’ high in the air above their heads. They sped up slightly, so she reciprocated their increased interest by speeding up in turn, careful to keep them abreast of her position and progress by periodic strings of echolocation clicks.

They were closer now. She could hear their forceful exhalations and quieter gulps of air as they snaked along the surface of the water, making good speed as they rolled along down toward their rendezvous, as she herself rushed to meet them. She could see the explosive condensations of their separate breaths in the distance, wafting behind them in the cool morning air, and sense their outlines through the complex interactions of their own sonar clicks.

There were thirteen whales in the approaching pod. They were already close enough that she could tell that there were seven females and six males; two of whom looked like the two she’d met for lunch. The males held back though, swimming behind three females who seemed to be in charge. The largest of the females stopped about fifty yards away, and all the others came to a halt behind her. The elder female focused a long series of sonar clicks on her, fully illuminating her in three dimensions, which Sa’aan knew from experience showed them her entire body as a translucent shape, her internal organs revealed as clearly as on an X-ray film. Sa’aan was suddenly reminded of Leana telling her when she woke in her new form that her sexual parts were hidden, and smiled at the discrepancy between theory and reality, now that she lived in an environment in which there were literally no secrets. These guys could ‘see’ what I had for breakfast, she thought to herself, what my sexual bits look like would be no challenge at all.

After the elder’s ‘in depth’ inspection, she began what was essentially an introduction, first announcing, as they had done when Sa’aan first became aware of the group, what was apparently their home range, the complex outline of the Georgia strait itself, from Discovery Channel and the islands to the north of the Strait, extending down to the San Juan Islands in the south. But then she extended the range to include the area south of Vancouver Island, and out to the Pacific Ocean beyond and elaborated the ‘range’ into other dimensions, including (as far as she could tell) their relationships to all the other living creatures in the Strait, starting with what seemed to be an extensive genealogy, followed by an enormous list of other creatures. She recognized the ideosymbol the males had used for salmon the day before, and others that she assumed were other types of fish, all followed by more ideosymbolism that she guessed represented some sort of relationship, but the elder female included almost everything that bordered on their marine environment; sea birds, sea and land mammals (most of which she couldn’t readily decipher, but recognized in rough outline by that portion of their symbols that referenced fins, or legs and tails), trees, algæ, and even human beings, all were included in a list that seemed far more inclusive and comprehensive than that of Noah’s ark was purported to be.

As quickly as the stylized outline of one creature was sketched, it would be followed by that creature’s relationship to the orcas, using symbolism that Sa’aan was usually unsure of, and a hint of the relationship between those creatures and others in a complex web. So the clear link between salmon and the orcas had cryptic references to bears, birds, the forest, and even the grasses, making up a multidimensional web rather more than a simple list, extending backward and forward through time. Belatedly, she realized that its totality formed a multidimensional picture in her head, just as echolocation clicks did, built up over time with the same underlying data presented in many layers, like a 3-D vid, but far richer in content.

The prey fish, like salmon and herring, were clearly not just ‘things to eat,’ if she’d figured out the meaning of the relationships they had in common correctly, but creatures as essential to the survival of the entire ecosystem as the whales themselves were. It was obvious that the orcas thought of themselves as something more like shepherds, and that there was, according to their viewpoint, a mutually beneficial arrangement between them of long standing. The relationship between the orcas and other marine mammals was less clear, although she was sure that the lack of clarity was in her own perception rather than any ambiguity on the part of the orcas. On the one hand, the orcas evidently thought of the seals and sea lions as some sort of distant relation, but on the other hand, there was clearly no particular barrier to eating them, except that there seemed to be rules about when this would be right, what sort of care had to be exercised, and what one had to do in return.

Sa’aan was overwhelmed with information, and when the elder female ended her recitation of particulars with what was clearly an inquiry, evidently expecting her to do the same, she hardly knew where to begin.

She started with the outline of the mountains around Campanella, trying to convey the fact that it was far to the south and inland from where they were, but high in the air. Then she showed her journey to Florida, where she met the orcas at AquaWorld, the tourist attraction. All the orcas got excited at this, so she tried to duplicate some of the calls she’d heard them give during the show, whereupon the pod surrounding Sa’aan and her interlocutor became even more agitated.

Now came the hard part. She showed images of her parents, spoke their names aloud, and of her grandparents, which was as much of a genealogy as she knew, but then tried to convey the fact that much of her genetic material was contributed by one of the orcas at AquaWorld.

Pandemonium. Several of the males sprang high out of the water, their sleek sides caught by the rays of the rising sun, and one female did a complete somersault, all of them exchanging extremely rapid chatter for a moment before lapsing into quiet again as the elder female made a single sharp click. The latter invited her to approach her side, and then lay quietly alongside Sa’aan, sketching her encounter with the males the day before as part of a web of obligations, of something she desired and upon which she insisted.

Sa’aan was confused until she realized that the elder knew what she had done for the males, and wanted Sa’aan to look inside her own body as well. So she did, at first confused by the fact that the female seemed reasonably healthy, and then realizing that, in the context of her disclosure of the orca calls at AquaWorld, she probably wanted her to look much more closely at her genetic code. The inference was obvious. The matriarch thought they were related and wanted Sa’aan to use her skills to check. The more she thought about this the more she was in awe. From the male’s mere report of what she’d done; the leader of this little band had correctly extrapolated the mechanism by which she’d healed the males, and knew enough about heredity that she expected Sa’aan to be able to make a meaningful determination. It probably helped that the female beside her could ‘see’ inside the male’s bodies almost as easily as she could, but not with her level of perception.

Genetic sequencing was something Sa’aan had never done before but she knew the basics of the theory and was game to try. Her mitochondrial DNA was still primarily that of her human mother, but there might, and probably would, be at least some organelles containing pure DNA from her donor. In addition, her nuclear DNA would have to contain long sequences of Orca genes, and she could probably guess which were what by comparing the orca’s to her own, a task for which her

She decided to start with the mitochondria, since that route seemed simplest, and divided the task between her connected selves in no particular order, since she was both halves of the same person, existentially odd, but not schizophrenic, since their coöperation was as instinctive as the mutual arrangement between her former two hands. In this sort of research, she was a one-woman band, capable of jazz riffs with herself. She wondered if she ought to list herself as her own collaborator when she published scientific papers. Nah!

She chose a random cell from the elder’s muscle fibers and compared it to one of her own, picking out a mitochondrion at random and running her consciousness quickly over the genetic sequence. It wasn’t close enough to the one she’d chosen of her own, so she marked her place and started looking at the female’s nuclear DNA, searching for distinct sequences that seemed dissimilar to the typical human genome available online.

She had a thought and coded a message to Nakia, asking, “Nakia! Something’s come up. Could you please see if you could find out exactly where AquaWorld obtained the orcas in their show, and whether they all came from the same region? It’s very important and I’d appreciate an answer as soon as possible. Thanks so much, Sa’aan.” She marked it as urgent and dispatched it to Nakia’s account, then began comparing the matriarch’s unique nuclear DNA sequence to one of her own found by the other half of her brain. She started running into difficulty with this, since there was much more DNA, scattered across many separate genes, but she quickly saw that there were similarities at least. She decided to add a postscript to her note. “Nakia! I’m sorry to bother you again but could you do me a big favor and have one of the genetic samples they took of me cross-matched with those of the performers at AquaWorld? I’ve run into a matriarch who seems very keen on genealogy, and she’d like very much to know how we’re related. I did a quick and dirty comparison of my mitochondrial DNA and hers, so we’re definitely kinfolk of some sort. At a rough guess, about a tenth of my mitochondrial DNA is absolutely identical to hers, with the rest presumably identical to my mother’s mitochondrial DNA, plus whatever came across to her cell lineage through chimeric transfers. As you can guess, it’s quite a shock to discover a relative I hadn’t known about before this moment. Thanks so much! Sa’aan.” She’d left the note a bit on the cryptic side, but guessed that Nakia could decipher it.

She decided to start with the mitochondria, since they seemed simplest, and divided the task between her two selves as instinctively as her former hands had coöperated to mold a single piece of clay into a single shape. It wasn’t schizophrenia as much as it was a new level of concentration, a new ability to follow and concentrate on several simultaneous actions, just as when she’d held the entirety of the pattern made by the jugglers in her single brain, as when musicians coördinate the entirety of the music they listen to when playing in a band with their own production of music, creating a single production from separate activities, yet still merged enough that they could improvise upon their own wanderings from the charted path, like jazz musicians. She chuckled at her own joke about collaborating on scientific papers.

She chose a random cell from her own muscle fibers and compared it to one of the female’s cells, picking out a mitochondrion at random and running her consciousness over the genetic sequence. It wasn’t close enough to the orca’s, so she picked another mitochondrion and began running down that sequence, quickly discarding those that were probably from her mother and trying another, switching again and again until she found one that was clearly similar. Eureka! She began a step by step comparison and found no differences between this one and those from the female orca, so scanned quickly through more mitochondria until she found another that wasn’t like the ‘run of the mill.’ It was identical to the first ‘oddball,’ although she’d also found some that were unique, so she started on her nuclear DNA sequence.

This task was way hard, but she felt that she had enough to go on with the obvious exact match on some of her mitochondrial DNA. She continued looking for orca sequences on her nuclear DNA, some of which seemed roughly similar, and then did a rough estimate of the number of orca mitochondria compared to the number of human, or quasi-human mitochondria.

There were around one in every ten of what she thought must be orca mitochondria, and a similar, but lesser percentage of what she guessed were probably from her mother’s animal donors. The chimeric admixture of genetic material from many species had played quite a trick on geneticists, but mitochondrial DNA itself seemed resistant to the agents that affected nuclear DNA, so the maternal bloodlines were still there, but jumbled in with many others, depending on the date of each interspecies transfer, so sorting them all out was a neat trick.

She couldn’t think of any good reason, other than deliberate design, that mitochondrial DNA should be specifically resistent to modification, while cellular DNA was not, but left that as an exercise for the future. She made a mental note to mention this aspect of her observations to Nakia, especially the probability of human mitochondrial DNA admixtures, in case no one else had thought to look, but she’d already closed the connection. No hurry.

She tried to explain what she’d discovered to the gathered orcas, essentially identifying one of the four orcas at AquaWorld as co-mother to her human mother, a concept they seemed to have much less trouble with than she had herself. Then she had an idea. She had vids of all the orcas in the show in backing store, which would remove any possible confusion about who they were if she could persuade the pod to come visit her little pool. Thinking again, the idea of showing the vids to the free orcas made her feel suddenly ashamed, although, at the time, she’d had no idea that the orcas in the AquaWorld tanks were anything other than clever animals, nor that they might have had family and friends who might be concerned about them. But in retrospect it was clear that the denizens of the tanks were prisoners who didn’t get to go home for the holidays, or anything else. She’d have to ask her father about that, and probably Nakia as well, but this could very easily turn into a huge mess.

Oh, well, she thought to herself, There’s no getting around it. Stiff upper lip and all that. She began persuading the orcas to come home with her, which they weren’t at all loathe to do, and could hardly contain their curiosity about this tiny home range. They’d evidently decided she was ‘family,’ because they became very friendly, swimming close and stroking their bodies along hers, and nuzzling her with their beaks.

Yipes! she thought, as one of them became extremely friendly with her genital slit. She knew from her encounter with the males yesterday that the orcas were shameless hedonists and libertines, but it was disconcerting to be on the receiving end. With a sonar click, she saw that her admirer was one of the younger females, which reassured her at least that the caress wouldn’t be immediately followed by something larger, but even this relatively innocent lechery was more than she could handle just yet. She had zero interest in sex, and motherhood was definitely off the agenda for the foreseeable future, and possibly forever! She shrugged herself away from the other female, and exaggerated the movements of her flukes to discourage further exploration. There seemed to be no hard feelings, though, since the rejected female simply moved over to another female and resumed her intimate nuzzling with a more receptive partner.

Aiya! she thought, I’m going to be the star when I get into sex education class at school. And the Purists would definitely be horrified. The orcas were not exactly single-minded travelers, and seemed inclined to make a game of almost everything, so their progress toward her home, though fairly steady, wasn’t all that rapid. She checked the time and saw that, even though the sun had been up less than an hour, it was already after ten. By the time they all arrived at her pool, it would be almost noon, so she figured that a call to her parents would be thoughtful.

Now that she thought of it, she decided to check up on the situation back home while she made her call, so handled the call in parallel with a simultaneous exploration of her home and the hospital

She made the link and, when her father answered, said, “Hi Dad, I’m headed home but it will be awhile before I get there. I met the local tribe of orcas and it turns out that we’re probably related, all one kine ’ohana

Some sort of family. Hawaiian ‘pigin,’ actually a type of creole.

, so I’m bringing the over to visit.”

“My dear baobei

Treasure, a Chinese term of endearment.

,” he said, “you’ve always been full of surprises, so I’m not at all surprised that you’ve once again surprised me.” He laughed. “Do you suppose we’ll be expected to provide lunch?”

“I don’t think so,” she said, glancing to both sides, where the orcas were cavorting through the low swells of the Strait, from time to time spontaneously jumping and rolling through sheer joy. “They’re a pretty independent crowd and I think there are rules about what one is supposed to eat, and what reciprocal obligations one has to one’s food. It’s a lot more complicated than I’d ever imagined, although I suppose that thirty million years or so gives one ample time to develop an arbitrarily complex and elaborated culture. At this point in my awareness, I’d hesitate to supply any sort of meal, lest we violate some sort of orca etiquette. Think of feudal Japan, rules within rules, all wrapped up in family, tradition, and honor, or something like it.”

Her father paused for a long moment before saying, “I take it, then, that you believe that the whales are fully intelligent?”

Sa’aan didn’t hesitate at all, “I do. I’ve already given Nakia a task, and a caution, around this issue, which I’m sure she’ll follow though on with stunning efficiency. The implications of what I asked are very clear, though I didn’t fully explain in a public record.”

He thought about this for a while as well, and then answered cryptically, “Might I inquire?” he asked.

“Of course,” she said. “The matriarch of this group reasoned her way from the fact that I removed the parasitic worms from the inner ears of the two male orcas yesterday, her nephews or grandsons, I think, though I’m still unsure of the exact family tree, and touched up their endocrine systems, to the fact that I had the ability to inspect and modify the interior structure and functionality of cells. She requested an ad hoc comparison of our genetic material so I could ascertain how closely we were related and tell her the result. I asked Nakia to have the scientists who studied me run a more exhaustive test, since I know they took samples of the orca’s DNA already, and send me the report so I could relay their findings to the local matriarch. I also asked for the detailed origins of the orcas held by the park.”

He seemed to be at a loss for words, something she’d very rarely seen. Finally, he said, “As the young people of your generation might say, hootsuh!

Get out of town! Chinese.

This is going to upset a lot of very important apple carts. Have you told anyone else?”

She answered succinctly, “No.”

He paused, and then responded, “Don’t. I do make exception for your mother and, realistically, if not ideally, your sister. She’d ferret out any secret you might have in any case, and is a powerful telepath, so it’s no good trying to build a firewall with her on the outside looking in.”

“My thought as well, and I have to admit that I’m just telling them both this very minute.”

He paused long enough for her to guess that her ability to do this still disconcerted him at times, and then asked, “Simultaneously?”

She answered, “Yes. I saw no reason to conceal it from either Mom or Leana, as they will soon be in the thick of it.”

He sighed, and Sa’aan could visualize his habitual lateral head movement before he continued, “Heaven help us if they’re all as clever and versatile as you are, and take a notion to dislike us. They obviously didn’t have any trouble understanding the chimeric adaptation syndrome, which leads me to believe that they’ve encountered it, in which case some of them will have talents of their own, and we’re all on thin ice.”

“Not only that,” she replied, “but I’m going to show them the vids from the orca circus at AquaWorld.”

“Is that wise?” His tone was cautious, and she could imagine his concerns for the possible ramifications.

Sa’aan was absolutely sure of herself, “It has to be done, and soon,” she said simply. “They have a right to know, and they already know that their children and siblings were kidnapped, if not exactly where they went. Any attempt on our part to conceal anything will inevitably reflect badly on us. I can’t, and won’t, take that chance even if government or corporate kibitzers rashly decide otherwise. So I plan to present every interested party with a fait accompli to deal with as best they can rather than a problem which they might foolishly attempt to conceal.”

His voice broke as he started to say something, but then he continued firmly and without hesitation, “ ‘Cælum, non animum, mutant, qui trans mare currunt.’

They change their skies, not their souls, who rush across the sea.

Horace had it wrong. Rushing across the sea has obviously changed more than the skies for you. Your soul has grown beyond my fondest hope.”

She didn’t know what to say. Her father had become much more expressive since her change, but he’d had months to integrate the feelings her illness had engendered in him. They were still very new to her. “I had several excellent examples,” was all she could manage just then.

“You’ve done very well indeed, although your flattery of your parents isn’t entirely unappreciated.” Sa’aan could tell he was smiling as he said this, which warmed her own heart.

She wanted to change the subject back to what seemed more important just then, their collective response to Sa’aan’s communication with the mother of the local orcas and Nakia’s impending involvement. She asked quickly, before her conversation with her father made her even more uncomfortable, “Would you mind if I collapsed our two conversations? That way you could talk to Mom and Leana at the same time, and we can put all our heads together at once.”

“Not at all,” he answered. “In fact, it sounds like the best plan.”

Sa’aan rapidly set up her two open circuits so she could connect them into one conference call and said, “OK, hang on just a bit until we’re all connected.”

Then she switched her father’s link to her second circuit.

While her call to her father was in progress, she wanted to check on Leana and her mother, as well as the area around her home. The villains had tried for them once, so she couldn’t discount the possibility that they’d try again.

She flew her consciousness ahead to the peninsula beside which her pool was located to see what was happening. Her father was outside, evidently reading by the pool as she saw a book with about a dozen bookmarks laid on the table near his right elbow. She took a long look along the bluff and inspected the road for any suspicious activity or parked flivvers, but everything looked fine. She decided to contact Leana as well, but used a mental link instead of a BioLync interface because the direct organic link was so much more personal and responsive. She began, “Leana? Are you decent?”

“Sure am. And, I have to add, so very much more than merely adequate.”

Sa’aan could sense her amusement and, as quick as thought, looked in on her room. Leana was fully dressed and sitting in a sidechair, idly fiddling with her BioLync. Aside from a cast on her leg, she looked ok, for which Sa’aan was very grateful.

“Wei! Jie-jie! When are you breaking out of stir? Aren’t you bored yet?” she said.

“Soonish, Mei-mei. Mom’s downstairs doing the paperwork, and I’m under strict orders to stay put until they trundle up a wheelchair so I can ride out in style. I can hardly wait.”

“I’m sure,” Sa’aan replied. “But wait’ll you see the gang of pals I’m bringing home to play. You probably won’t want to miss it, so don’t let them tie you up in idle ceremony. ‘Stand not upon the order of your going, but go at once.’ ” She was pleased to see that Leana rose immediately and started hopping to the door. As powerful and graceful as she appeared, she might just as well have practiced this gait as a lesson in deportment, for she looked very competent at it.

“So why, exactly, am I flouting the medical authorities and common sense just now?” Leana didn’t stop, and was already at the door, which suddenly caused Sa’aan to admire her beyond measure.

“I have thirteen orcas coming to tea, so we’ll want you and Mom to pour out.” Sa’aan took a quick peek out into the hall to check the lay of the land and continued, “There’s a wheelchair in the alcove just down the hall to your left.” She took another look down to the lobby area and saw a series of little doors that she figured must open into the checkout offices. She traced the route back to where Leana was just sitting down in a wheelchair and told her, “Just continue on down the hall to the elevators, exit at the level with a ‘G’ on the button, and then turn right to the lobby. I’ll handle Mom. She’s behind one of the closely-spaced doors you’ll pass on your left.” She saw a nurse approach her sister, obviously flustered, but knew that Leana could talk her way out of almost anything and was too strong, and too intimidating, to make anyone likely to go further than talk. She flicked back to the lobby area and contemplated the row of doors.

She initiated a connection to her mother’s BioLync, speaking as soon as the connection was completed. “Mom? Are you busy?”

“Of course not, dear. We’ve just finished signing out your sister and were simply waiting for her to be brought down from the floor to complete the formalities. Hang on a bit.” Her mother spoke to someone in the office, sotto voce, and then continued, “Now, what were you saying?”

“Just that something rather important has come up and I’d like you to meet me back at home. Leana’s already on her way down.” She linked Leana into the virtual BioLync circuit before continuing, “I’ve had a rather interesting conversation with the matriarch of the orcas, who just gave me a complete rundown on the œcological web of the Georgia Strait, together with her own genealogy back at least a hundred generations.”

Her mother said, “She’s intelligent, then.”

“You betcha,” Sa’aan said. “Possibly more clever than any of us. She evidently heard about our little escapade with the males yesterday, put two and two together and came up with a rough estimate of my enhanced mental abilities in particular, but probably Leana’s as well, as well as almost effortlessly deducing the general fact that a large number of my genes probably come from one of her own children, which means she knows about the chimeric transition process, so I, at least, have a third grandmother, you folks all have new in-laws, or something, whatever we wind up calling it when language catches up with reality, and we all have a raft of trouble. The Purists are going to have drooling conniption fits; AquaWorld is likely to be sued for slavery, and possibly torture and murder; the countries that still slaughter whales are probably going to declare war, or have war declared upon them; and we’ve finally discovered aliens, right here on Earth. We might want to have a little powwow before the various parties actually arrive, which will be in a little less than an hour. Nakia might take a bit longer.”

“The matriarch of the resident orcas is coming?” her mother inquired.

Leana answered, “A passel of them, actually. I think we can fairly consider it a formal diplomatic mission. I didn’t know about Nakia, but it makes sense, and you know how Sa’aan always was about connecting the dots.” She was just rolling herself out of the elevator and headed toward the lobby as her mother opened one of the doors to the little offices and glared at Leana wheeling down the hall at high speed, followed by a panting orderly whose job it had evidently been to pilot her.

Her mother chuffed quite noticeably at Leana and, by implication, Sa’aan, “Just you wait, daughters, until you have daughters of your own, and come crying to me for sympathy, »und wenn dann der Kopf fällt, sag ich: ›Hoppla!‹ «

And then when the heads fall, I say, ‘Hurrah!’ An ominous quote from Kurt Weil’s Threepenny Opera in German.

.”

Sa’aan spoke up quickly, “It’s all my fault, Mom. I’m the ringleader in this particular conspiracy. I suspected that they were intelligent to the standards of the Chimeric Citizenship Act when the males first contacted me, or at least that they had a complex language, But I didn’t really relate that to the outside world until the matriarch of the pod brought the real world so suddenly to the table.”

“Well,” her mother said, “there’s no sense crying over spilt milk, is there? Events quite often catch us unaware and the question is only how ably we react to them.” She chuffed again, with resignation.

“I’d like to bring Dad into the circuit, as I’ve been talking to him separately and you both will probably have good ideas,” Sa’aan suggested.

“Of course,” her mother replied. “At your convenience.”

Sa’aan said, “OK. Here goes.”

Relieved to have both of her parents in on the same conversation, she used the rest of her brain to ensure their physical safety and her own.

Now freed from the need to maintain two conversations as well as keep track of her own progress toward home and her surroundings, Sa’aan directed her mental perception in several directions. She noticed a man loitering outside the hospital who seemed to take an inordinate amount of interest in the door each time it opened, so made up her mind to keep an eye on him and warn her mother and sister about him while she flicked her attention to the area around her parent’s house.

The bluff above the pool still seemed clear of any threat, the closely-scattered palm trees and scrubby evergreens basking in the midday sun. She went on to scrutinize the area around herself and the pod, which was loosely scattered across a broad swath of sea, still swimming strongly toward her parent’s home.

There were several boats within a mile or two of the pod, but they seemed to be going about their own business, either small packet boats delivering goods or fishing. She took a closer look at one of the closest, which looked like a private yacht and had a few fishing poles mounted on rod holders with rigs out trolling, the thin lines slanting down until they sliced through the water. Three men lounged on deck, none of them paying much attention to their lines, but rather focused on the whales. One had a pair of binoculars and Sa’aan worked backward from their sightline and noted that the man appeared to be watching her, and not the other orcas.

She closed in on the boat, and saw that there was a picture of her on the gunwale near the man with the binoculars, clearly showing the distinctive pattern of black and white on her upper sides and back, and closer inspection revealed the presence of a hunting rifle — similar to the one used by the previous assassin — hidden inside a locker underneath the cushioned bench seats which framed the two sides of the cockpit.

She kept one virtual eye on the men in the boat and looked back at the man outside the hospital. There was a flivver stationed just to his left as he studied the hospital doors and she took a closer look inside it. Under a light jacket on the front seat, there was a large handgun and an ærosol injector with a vial of some sort of liquid loaded and ready to go.

She linked quickly to Sergeant Olive Olafsen, the police officer who’d interviewed her the day before, and started speaking as soon as the officer answered, “Sergeant Olafsen? This is Sa’aan. We spoke yesterday. I’d like to report another possible assault on my sister and me in progress. There’s a man with a handgun outside the main entrance of the hospital where my sister was taken, and he appears to be waiting for my mother and sister to appear. He also has some sort of chemical weapon that might be dangerous at close quarters. Both of his weapons are concealed in the yellow flivver nearby. He’s about six feet, one hundred eighty pounds, sorry, eighty-two kilos, bushy dark eyebrows with dark hair and a receding hairline with no visible chimeric traits. He’s wearing a maroon tee-shirt and blue dungarees. The other threat is from a boat with three men aboard. None of the men have any visible hybridization. They’re apparently following me, as well as a pod of native orcas, traveling southeast toward English bay, about ten kilometers due west of the Point Atkinson Lighthouse and just south of Bowen Island. The boat’s name is ‘Lord Above’ and it’s a white cabin cruiser with a single composite airfoil auxiliary sail. The men are sitting, but of average height, all dark-haired and clean-shaven. Between them, they’re wearing two blue and one yellow shirt, all with black baseball caps bearing some sort of logo.”

“Hang on a moment, Sa’aan, whilst I despatch officers to the hospital, since I presume that your mother and sister are in the most danger.” After a short pause, the officer spoke again. “Sa’aan? I’ve also despatched a helicopter to the location of the boat, but it will be ten or fifteen minutes before it arrives. Will you be alright on your own for a bit?”

“I believe so, yes.” Sa’aan chose her words carefully, “I’d like to avoid an unpleasant scene, though. I’m keeping an eye on them, and will let you know if they attempt to do anything. Right now, I’m being very coy about showing myself above the surface of the water, and I’m surrounded by orcas, so they’re probably confused.”

“Understood,” the officer replied crisply. “The officers en route to the hospital have been instructed to be discreet but quick, so you probably won’t have anything to worry about on that end. They should be there within a very few minutes. As to the boat, I presume you could completely submerge to avoid these alleged assailants?”

“That might be difficult,” Sa’aan answered, “although I’m relieved to hear that you’ll be there so quickly for my mother and sister. I’ve asked them to stay inside the lobby until you give them permission to exit to the outside. As for the men in the boat, I’ll have to see what I can do if they pose a threat to myself or to the pod of orcas around me.”

“Good, but first, are there any possible threats in the lobby?” The Sergeant seemed especially worried about this, possibly because of the number of bystanders.

“I’ll check that now.” She inspected the lobby very carefully, but no one waiting there displayed any particular interest in her mother or sister. She spoke to the officer, “The lobby seems fine. My mother and sister are looking out for danger inside the building, now that we know they may still be in danger.”

“Alright, but second, you said before that these men were following the entire pod? How close are they?”

“Yes, they are,” Sa’aan responded, puzzled by his question. “They’re within about a hundred meters of the most outlying members of the pod, but much closer at times. They’re looking for me, and have almost run down some of the whales in their haste.”

“Oh, good,” Sergeant Olafsen said with grim satisfaction. “Assuming that we observe this directly, that will give us a good excuse to board them, as well as haul them in, since they’re in violation of our marine mammals protection regulations. If they’re carrying a loaded firearm, as you describe, that makes a prima facie case that they were they intended to annoy, harass, or harm the orcas, which will allow us to put them away for quite a long time, at least until we can build a case for attempted murder and conspiracy.”

Sa’aan answered bitterly, “I’m not actually sure that putting a few people in storage is going to work, since there seem to be plenty more where the first one came from. Anyway, since they seem to have a particular fascination with me, I believe that by the time your officers arrive they’ll be considerably closer than they are now.” She dived and then sharply veered away from the boat before starting a visual and audio recording through her link and then resurfacing much farther away and ahead of where she’d been, showing herself more clearly by arcing out of the water in a shallow lunge. As she’d expected, the men took notice and the boat immediately started moving toward her, entering the loose periphery of the group of traveling orcas and closing quickly on her last position. From her mental vantage point, she kept an eye on the man with the binoculars and saw him kneel down to open the locker and take out the heavy rifle, then raise and point it toward her, peering into the attached electronic sight.

Sa’aan cursed silently, Bù yào lian!

Shameless individual! A grave insult in Chinese.

She dove again and doubled back, putting on a burst of speed until she was deep under the boat, keeping pace with it, then said to the Sergeant, “Are your men close enough to see yet? One of the men has raised the gun and is looking for something to shoot, most probably me.”

After a moment, the officer answered, “Yes, they have a visual image of him and he’s aiming a rifle toward your last noted position.”

“Please tell them to look sharp, as I don’t want them to shoot me again, or any of the orcas by mistake.”

The Sergeant phrased her next words in a minimalist way, fraught with hidden implications, but conveying none of them clearly, “Are you in a position to stop them safely?”

Sa’aan answered just as guardedly, “I believe so. I plan to overturn their boat and hope that, in the water, they’ll be much too busy to shoot anyone.”

The officer sounded relieved, “That seems a reasonable and justifiable use of force in this instance. Brandishing a weapon is a serious crime, and it appears from the report I have from the crew that he was pointing it at you before you dove. It would be very inadvisable for you to surface again unless he’s disarmed.”

“How soon will they be here?”

“About five minutes from now, I’m sorry to say.”

“Worse luck. I’ve been swimming very strenuously, so I’ll have to surface sooner than that in order to breathe. Otherwise, I might lapse into unconsciousness and die, so I believe I have to act now.” Sa’aan could hear the steady beat of the oncoming aircraft, becoming louder as it approached, so she knew the crew were in a position to observe, but too far away to be of much help. She positioned herself carefully beneath the boat and grabbed two things with her telekinetic power; first, the nanocircuitry of the bioelectric motor that powered the craft — shorting it completely, which stopped the propeller from turning and prevented it from injuring anyone — and then the barrel of the rifle — forcing it up toward the sky at the exact same moment she pushed the boat up and over with all her strength. The results were very satisfying. The boat capsized very neatly, the rifle flew up into the air and hit the water far from any of the men. As it sank, she made a few echolocation clicks so that she could see it clearly, then swam down so she could grab it in her mouth — which she did carefully to avoid chipping a tooth. She noted that the men had been thrown free of the boat and were swimming back toward the upturned hull, obviously terrified to be in the water with the orcas, who’d immediately converged to see the novelty which had transpired in their midst. The younger orcas all thought that this new spectacle was very funny and droll, and encouraged the men’s panic by nuzzling their feet and rushing toward them, burbling with amusement when they screamed and flailed their arms. The men shrieked and tried to clamber up on the hull, pushing each other aside in their haste, causing the whole operation to take longer than it would have if they’d coöperated.

“I take it,” the sergeant said, laughing, “that you’re not entirely responsible for the pandemonium I’m seeing on the vidscreen just now.”

Sa’aan rose some distance away to breathe, gulping in great quantities of air after her long breathless effort, and then answered, “Well, I tipped the boat over, and I currently retain possession of the rifle, which somehow fell overboard when the boat turned turtle, but the orcas seem fascinated and amused by the men in the water and seem to take some delight in teasing them. I can assure you, though, that they’re in no particular danger. The villains I mean. Unless they drown themselves fighting for pride of place on top of their hull.”

“I imagine,” the sergeant observed, chuckling, “that they’re wishing they’d stayed at home today. I do wish we’d had a better view, although I’m sure the one we have will circulate around the stations for a bit. Whilst a policeman’s lot is not an entirely happy one, we do have our little compensations.”

Sa’aan reassured her, “As it happens, I recorded the entire episode on my BioLync, which I’m quite willing to turn over to you as evidence. It shows the rifle as it falls into the water and my approach to it, so you can identify the rifle I have for you as generally the same as the one your own record will show falling into the water, if that’s any help at all in your investigations. It will also furnish a close-up view of my erstwhile murderers’ floundering progress toward the upturned hull of their boat from an entirely different perspective. Your fellow officers may find it amusing as well.”

Sergeant Olafsen answered her formally, “We’d be very much obliged, Sa’aan. Could you send this evidence to me now? I must caution you that you are under no obligation to do so at this moment, and you may wish to consult a lawyer before turning any evidence in your possession over to the police.”

She replied promptly and without hesitation, “Of course. I have nothing to hide. I’m signing the file with my public signature and sending the entire episode to you now, from my clear view of the boat and men as I leaped from the water to the present moment.” She initiated transmission of the file to the officer with copies to both her parents, as well as Leana and Nakia. As an afterthought, she sent a copy to a secure public archive as well.

“Thank you very much, Sa’aan,” Sergeant Olafsen commented. “I have the file in custody now.”

Sa’aan answered, “You’re very welcome, Sergeant Olafsen. I’m headed toward my parent’s house with the orcas, if you have any need to question me further. I’ll hang around to ensure the safety of the men in the boat until your helicopter arrives, of course.”

“Very commendable. I will need to see you for a short time, if that would be alright,” she said. “At least long enough for you to turn over the rifle and verify that it’s the same weapon you confiscated from the men, And it would be good to collect a formal statement with witnesses, although you could arrange that at your convenience.”

“Would it be better to give the rifle to one of the officer’s at the scene?” Sa’aan asked. “They’ll have to enter the water to pick up the men and secure the boat for towing in any case. Not only that, but I have to carry the gun in my mouth, which isn’t terribly comfortable.”

“That would be fine, Sa’aan. You should see the helicopter overhead in a few seconds. I’ll let them know about the rifle.”

“Thanks so much! If you patch me into their circuit, I can coördinate with them and perhaps persuade the orcas to leave the immediate area, which might make things simpler.”

“Of course, I’ll do it now.” She paused for a moment and then continued, “Sa’aan? This is Sergeant Lloyd of our rescue squad. He’ll be making arrangements with you for controlling the scene and picking up the rifle.”

She heard a new voice on the circuit, “Glad to meet you, Sa’aan. Air/Sea Rescue Pilot Sergeant Christopher Lloyd, at your service, although you don’t seem to need rescuing just now. From our vantage point, you handled the situation very well. It was a rare treat to see that cruiser go topsy-turvy, and very neatly done, with no loss of life nor limb at all.”

“I’m very pleased to see you, Sergeant Lloyd. What do you need on my end?”

“Well, we need to drop a swimmer into the water to handle the hoist from down there,” he said. “Would it be possible to clear a little hole for us?”

“I think so. The orcas are losing interest in the men, as they’re not nearly as funny sitting on top of their boat as they were in the water and they have places to go and things to do, as the saying has it. But, if you don’t mind, could your swimmer handle taking custody of the rifle first? I’m getting really tired of holding it in my mouth, as the salt water is making me a little sick.”

“Not at all. We’ll do that straightaway. So, let’s get on with it, eh? I’m sending a swimmer down with an evidence bag, so we can document the train of custody from here on out.” Quicker than saying it, the side door opened and a man in a bright orange wet suit, mask, scuba tank, and fins, carrying a bright red bag that she presumed was the evidence bag, dropped down on the end of a sling. When he was about six feet above the water, he dropped off the sling and into the strait, immediately swimming over to where Sa’aan was standing by with powerful strokes of his fins.

He shouted over the rhythmic sounds of the helicopter engines and rotating blades creating a tempest of air and confused water around her head, “I understand I’m supposed to pick up a firearm.”

Sa’aan rolled to her side, presenting the rifle so it was easy to reach. When he’d secured the weapon in the bag, she nodded vigorously and swam off to the side while he used hand signals to have the crew position a cargo net where he could reach it. She was anxious to be on her way but unsure of the proper procedure, and wanted to make sure that the gun arrived on board the aircraft without mishap. He tied the evidence bag into the net and then signaled for the crew to hoist away, which took only a few moments, and then it was swung in through the hatch by a man up above. She spoke to the pilot immediately, “Hello, Sergeant Lloyd? I’ve given him the rifle and you have it aboard, but now what should I do?”

“Don’t you worry about it, Missy. You’ve done a fine thing here, saving yourself and all these whales, but we don’t want you doing all our jobs, do we? I’ve a wife and two children at home and need my wages at the end of the week or she’ll chuck me out on my ear, eh?”

“Thank you, then, for all your help, Sergeant Lloyd. When it comes to criminals, I’m a little out of my depth.”

“Ouch!” he laughed. “That paid me back for my little story, I suppose.”

“Not at all, Sergeant. It was a heartwrenching tale. But I have to be paddling off now. I expect the orcas will follow me, as they seem interested in my doings.”

“I expect we’ll be seeing each other again, Sa’aan, as this is my regular beat. So TTFN

Ta ta for now. An informal abbreviation of an informal goodbye.

, and an absolute pleasure to meet you,” the pilot chuckled, and the connection dropped.

Sa’aan resumed her swim toward home, and the orcas tagged along in their playful way, making periodic excursions off to one side or the other when a school of tempting fish happened by. Were it not for the events on shore, and then this new attempt on her life, it would have seemed almost idyllic, a repetition of her earlier picnic with Leana, but with more guests.

They were making good progress and the events on land seemed well in hand when Sa’aan’s BioLync let her know that Nakia was trying to connect, so she answered promptly, “Hi, Nakia! Sorry to be such a bother, but I needed advice and help.”

“I’m flattered, Sa’aan,” Nakia answered warmly. “I got your notes, and have most of your answers available right now. I wanted to wait until I could offer something besides tea and sympathy. And the implications of your wording weren’t lost on me, and I want to talk about that. Do you want answers first, or questions?”

“Both, of course,” Sa’aan replied. “but answers would probably be better, since I could give better answers if I had more facts to go on. But would you mind if I patched in my family? We’ve had another series of attempts on our lives here, or seeming attempts, since the police managed to nip them in the bud, and I think this concerns them deeply.”

“Not at all. I’ll wait for the link, although I’m very worried that your first assassin seems to have many friends.”

Sa’aan said, “Me too. That’s one of the things I want to talk about. If you don’t mind hanging on for a moment, I’m setting up the connection now.”

She let her wait for a brief period, longer than was strictly necessary, while she thought through all her options again, marshalling her facts and arguments as carefully as if she were preparing for a formal debate, and then transferred the connection to her other line.

Now that she could concentrate on her family’s safety with the other part of her mind, she devoted her attention to a single conversation.

Sa’aan continued, “As the Whos said to Horton, ‘We’re here! We’re here!’ OK, although the orcas and I’m traveling fairly steadily toward home, it will be a while still before we get there, which will give us a little time to talk before the whirlwind hits us. I expect that Nakia will be in touch very shortly, and my current plan is to dump her call into the general circuit without preamble, so be prepared for a sudden presence.”

Leana chortled, “I think we all like her anyway, but I’ll make a special effort not to say anything cruel behind her back.”

Sa’aan changed the subject abruptly, having just observed the man, who’d previously been loitering suspiciously, reach under a jacket on the front seat of his flivver and finger a large handgun, evidently in preparation for his mother’s appearance with Leana. “Mom, Leana? Could you hold up for a bit?” The two women had been traveling pretty steadily through the lobby, and were just inside the inner doors leading out, separated from the outside doors by a short vestibule which she presumed helped to prevent gusts of warm or cold air from the outside blowing into the hospital proper. “There’s a man outside who doesn’t seem to have any business being there, and he’s scanning the doors a little too intently. Please just go back to the lobby and sit for a bit while I check him out.”

Her mother said, “Do you think it’s the same group as before?”

Sa’aan replied, “I’m not sure, but he has no visible signs of hybridization so it’s a definite possibility.” She couldn’t see anyone who might be an accomplice at first, but reasoned that there had to be one because the man had seemed to know of their approach to the lobby doors, and then spotted her. It was a woman, but her sneering disapproval and hateful stare directed toward her mother and Leana gave her away, along with the subvocal movements of her throat muscles as she relayed her family’s position to the assassin waiting outside. She called the police and succinctly described the situation on the third of her four BioLync circuits. After a moment, she said, “Dad? It might be better if you took cover in the house. I didn’t see anyone on the bluff, but there seems to be some sort of coördinated action going on.”

“I see.” Her father rose up from his lounge chair with unhurried grace, but didn’t take the stairs. Instead, he ran with astonishing grace and preternatural speed to the base of the bluff and, with a powerful spring, leapt thirty feet up the steep slope and then scrambled quickly to the top, immediately throwing himself under the low evergreens at the edge. “I think I’ll be fine out here,” he whispered without the slightest hint that he’d just performed an astonishing feat of athleticism, and continued without a pause, “but may take the opportunity to look around.”

Sa’aan’s mother said, “Please be careful, Simon. I’ll be very cross with you if you get yourself hurt in any way.”

“Not to worry, dearest,” he replied with his usual sang-froid, “I daresay I’m uniquely fitted to detect a lurker before he can see me, since I can see his body heat, wherever he is, and the shrubbery is moderately thick up here.” Fitting actions to words, he crawled deeper into the underbrush with great rapidity and sinuous grace.

Sa’aan realized that her father needed backup rather more than her mother and Leana, so she told them, “Mom, Leana, be careful of anyone in the lobby who seems at all odd, and — don’t look — that woman in the chair by the door. She’s undoubtedly an accomplice so definitely avoid going outside. Leana is in no shape for a running battle, and the man outside is armed with a handgun, which seems fairly diagnostic of his bad intentions. I’ve contacted the police, so the situation should be well in hand on your end.” She split part of her attention off the man outside, and concentrated that part on the bluff around her parent’s house.

“Don’t worry about us, Mei-mei,” Leana said. “We can amuse ourselves right where we are for as long as it takes for the cops to show up.”

Sa’aan said, “Alright, then. I’m going to be helping Dad for a bit.” She was inspecting the edge of the bluff in particular, and the woods further back from the edge, cruising her consciousness at high speed just above ground level, starting from where her father had vanished into the brush and working outward in a spiral.

At first she couldn’t see where he might have gotten too, but then she found a trail of freshly-crushed plants that seemed to lead toward the bluff from the road. She decided to follow the trail on the chance that it had been made by another attacker. She spoke to her father after muting the connection to her mother and sister, “Dad? I see a trail leading toward the edge of the bluff about two hundred feet east of where you ascended the bluff. You probably don’t want to talk but I’m taking a closer look along the path.” She followed the trail as quickly as she could, soon encountering a decumbent figure in a smart camouflage suit, well-hidden from casual observation, scanning the sea with powerful binoculars. A rifle lay slightly to the side before him. “Dad? He’s lying prone at the edge of the bluff in a smart camouflage outfit, one hundred and eighty feet from there you went up. He has a rifle.” Moments after speaking, she saw the slight twitching of a branch as her father launched himself out of the underbrush, as quick as thought, and wrapped his powerful arms around the man’s arms and neck, flexing his jaw wide, extending his fangs, and biting the man on the neck. The fellow thrashed around for only a few seconds before lapsing into unconsciousness and Sa’aan was amazed at how efficiently her father had acted, and with such stunning results.

Her father spoke, “As it happens, I’d already found him, dear Sa’aan. His scent was quite clear from the start, and the infrared radiation of his mammalian body was as visible to me as an emergency strobe, despite the crude camouflage trickery of his little toy soldier suit.” He rose from the ground and studied the immobile figure before him, in no particular hurry. Then he shrugged his shoulders and continued, “Now if you’ll pardon me, I suppose I have to call an ambulance for this fellow before he dies on us. I used a minimally effective amount of toxin, despite the temptation to administer a fatal dose, but the possibility of adverse reactions can’t be entirely discounted.”

“I think that wraps it up here,” Sa’aan said with relief. “The man at the hospital came in a four-person flivver, so I’m guessing that this one rode with him and was dropped off before he and another accomplice proceeded to the hospital. I’m going to look in at the hospital if you can take care of things here.” She immediately flicked over to the hospital, and saw that the man with the hidden handgun was still loitering by his flivver, eyeing the hospital doors. He, on the other hand, didn’t notice that a pair of uniformed officers were rapidly approaching from behind his back, a Fox Chimera and a Dog Chimera, both very fleet of foot. They’d tackled him and had him into handcuffs within seconds, and had discovered the handgun and injector shortly thereafter. She un-muted the connections of both her sister and mother, saying, “Mom? Leana? Dad caught one of the intruders and the police have the other in front of the hospital, so I think you’re all safe there, for now at least. Dad’s fine, and had the chance to do a stunt worthy of Crotalus on the vids.” She saw her mother and Leana resume their progress to the doors, but then her mother snatched at the woman by the doors with one powerful arm, throwing her violently to the wall and grasping both of her wrists with the other before she could react, and then strolled out casually with her captive to a taxi flivver which rolled up just as they reached the curb. Sa’aan presumed that her mother had called for it while they were waiting. The police, still busy with the assassin, seemed surprised to see another customer so handily delivered but the mystery was soon cleared up and her mother and Leana entered the flivver and started home without further comment.

Her father demurred, unaware of his wife’s actions, “Pish, dear Sa’aan. It was really nothing. He was a perfectly ordinary Purist, by the look of him, and had no enhancements at all. It was like taking an unruly child in hand and enforcing a little ‘time-out.’ Your sister could have handled him quite nicely, even with her leg in a cast, so it was no trouble at all for even a doddering old academic like me. I’m not entirely without resources, you know, when it comes to physical prowess.”

Sa’aan laughed, “You don’t say! When I was a little kid, I thought that you were actually Crotalus, the action vid hero, but were in your secret identity that we couldn’t talk about. I never thought that you were at a loss for physical prowess, as you put it. Even when I figured out that you weren’t the vidpic star, you still looked like one to me.”

Her father said, “My dear Nu-er

Daughter. Chinese.

, you’ll make me blush, even though it’s impossible for one with my physiology. The most heroic thing I did was to refrain from killing him. I was sorely tempted,” he said darkly.

“Simon!” her mother objected. “Please don’t talk like that to the children, even in jest, and even though you might have been perfectly justified at the time. There isn’t a jury in Canada that would have convicted you, had your defense of your daughter gone the other way, what with one daughter in hospital, having narrowly escaped the assassin’s bullet, and the other, wounded in the same treacherous attack, swimming into a trap, but it didn’t….”

He interrupted in his most mild-mannered fashion, “Sweetheart, a Ghrá mo Chroí, Eibhlín mo mhuirnín, Eibhlín a stór, tá mo chroí istigh ionat

My heart’s beloved, Eileen, my sweetheart, Eileen, my darling, my heart lies within you. Irish.

, but Sa’aan herself is the one who raised the warning to which I reacted with such alacrity, so you can hardly say that she was swimming into a trap. I do take your point, but you, , are equally bloodthirsty when our children are involved. I well recall….”

“Simon, neshomeleh

Sweet soul. Hebrew

,”Sa’aan’s mother retorted, “please don’t try to persuade me with honeyed words and wheedling blarney. I concede your point, that I myself am subject to rage, and even that I can be intemperate at times. I further agree, without argument, that you had ample provocation, but cooler heads really ought to prevail here. The time of rage has passed. Are we to teach our daughters that murdering people is acceptable, if only they, or their associates, have had the courtesy to try and murder one of us at some prior moment?” She paused to take a breath and then, realizing that no one dared to say a word, continued, “In a civilized society, the proper response to criminals is to use the minimum amount of force necessary to restrain them, and to practice manslaughter only as a last resort. Your youngest daughter exercised mature judgment when, even in extremis, hard-pressed by the necessity of a split-second decision, she spared her assailant’s life. I don’t doubt that she could have killed him, if she’d tried. Do you doubt it? Would you wish that burden on her conscience? Do you set a good example by regretting the fact that you too, despite your current angry words, spared yet another potential assailant? These are acts to be proud of, that you and she have shown yourself to be far more ‘human’ than our enemies. Any fool can kill, but snuffing out a life is not without consequences.” There was a long pause.

At last, her father ventured, “I wasn’t wheedling, was I?” He seemed bemused.

“You were,” she said fondly, “and very sweetly too. Have you been studying the Gælic just to charm me?” Sa’aan could hear the smile in her voice.

“It had crossed my mind,” he admitted, “and here I’ve gone and spoilt the surprise.”

Sa’aan’s mother said sweetly, “You’ve had a great deal of time on your hands, haven’t you, what with the girls and me lazing around the poolside in Florida?”

Her father hastened to answer, “Not begrudged, dear heart. Not begrudged, but with a right good will.”

“I know, dear,” she cooed, “but do let’s save the manly bluster for the screenplay.” There was another pause.

Then her father laughed and, after a moment, both the girls joined in. He started to speak several times before he managed to continue, “It was a pretty good line though, wasn’t it? We’ll have to save it for our ghostwriter.”

“We will,” her mother said, “and we’re just pulling up in front of the house if you care to meet us when at least one of our prodigals comes home from the battlefield.”

Her father said, “I’ll be right up. Sa’aan, how soon will you be home as well?”

“Not too long now. We’ve had a slight delay, so I’m in conversation with the police just now, but we’ll be on our way within a few minutes, or so I believe.”

“Exactly what sort of delay?” Her mother’s tone was dangerously tense.

“Well,” Sa’aan ventured, “Remember I’d told you that this was a coördinated effort? Actually, there were three men in a boat out here, but now they’re very wet and I have their weapon. Their boat’s a little the worse for wear as well, but a little mopping will soon set it right, as soon as they manage to turn it right-side up again. The police helicopter is on it’s way to take them into custody, and take the gun as well, since it tastes funny and I don’t want to swim all the way back with it in my mouth.”

“You aren’t hurt, are you?” Leana spoke.

Sa’aan answered cheerfully, “Not a bit. I sent you all a copy of the vid from my viewpoint, and it’s rather hilarious to see them scrambling to climb on top of their hull. The orcas all thought it was funny to hear them scream, so the younger ones played tag with them until they got bored and swam away, leaving the would-be assassins shivering on top of their hull. I was never in any danger, as they couldn’t see me, except in glimpses, and I could view them quite plainly, even when I was far below the surface. The first time they caught a clear view of me was when I tipped the boat over, and by that time I had hold of the rifle and had persuaded it to fall to one side as they went the other.”

“Your telekinetic powers have developed that rapidly?” her mother inquired with concern.

“They have, although it’s another thing I don’t propose to volunteer to the authorities. I don’t think they’ll press the issue, for the reasons we’ve already discussed.”

Her father asked, “Do you have any idea what we’re dealing with? This sort of action seems highly uncharacteristic of the Purists, as hateful as they are. In the past, they’ve managed to vent their spleen with picket signs and obnoxious prayers for the damnation of their enemies, but armed violence and conspiracy to murder seems way out of their league.”

“I agree, and I think it must have something to do with me. Other types of Chimeræ have been around for hundreds of years without any sort of concerted effort being made to murder them, although there have been numerous isolated hate crimes. So it must have something to do with the fact that I’m a cetacean Chime.”

Leana burst in, “And the only people with a huge investment in killing whales are the Japanese, the Icelanders, and the Norwegians. It seems unlikely that they would conspire together as countries, but commercial interests in any of these might, especially Japan, since their ‘scientific’ hunt is worth far more than the other two countries combined. At the retail level, the sale of whale meat amounts to thousands of millions of New Yen a year, and finances their whaling fleet with quite a bit left over for private profit.”

“That’s where my thoughts tended as well,” Sa’aan said, “and it’s a real problem. Neither the RSA nor the Canadians are likely to confront the Japanese directly about this issue, at least without proof of their involvement.”

Leana went on, “And they probably won’t work with any great enthusiasm to collect such proof, since they’re important trading partners who generate much larger amounts in sales for many powerful people all around the world.”

“But what can we do about that?” her mother asked, “We don’t have the resources to track down the sources of hush money, or secret accounts, or however this was funded and planned.”

Her father responded, “I think the local police will act fairly, and probably the RCMP as well. They have a long history of integrity, and I doubt that they’d coöperate in a cover-up, even if some of the politicians and ministers aren’t enthusiastic about the investigation. And I suspect that the agencies for Chimeræ in both countries have a different axe to grind than that of the governments who exercise nominal control over them. We’ve already seen how they work to subvert, or at least influence, official records to increase public acceptance of Chimeræ as primarily public benefactors rather than a ‘master race’ or an elite cabal of supermen.”

“The other thing we can do is keep our eyes and ears open,” Leana commented, “Between us, we have considerable powers of observation, and Sa’aan has been increasing in power as she becomes more familiar with her brain and body.”

“And do some basic research,” Sa’’an said quickly. “The more we know, the easier it will be to fit whatever facts we discover into the underlying framework on which these data points hang. And we’re all particularly skilled in research. Mom and Dad are academic professionals with enormous resources available to them and a wealth of background skills to back these up, including in Dad’s case fluency in the languages most likely to be of interest. And we two are at least gifted amateurs.”

Her father reminded her, “And as of now, you, Sa’aan, are the world’s foremost authority on orcas, and in a unique position to observe and comment on other cetaceans.”

“I think that’s going to be a key issue as well,” Sa’aan stated. “The more I learn, the more I realize that we, and by that I mean humanity as a whole, have seriously underestimated the conscious contributions of other entities to the planetary œcology. I believe most people think, even now, that the so-called ‘animals’ are unconscious of anything beyond their own noses, but I now know this isn’t the case for orcas, at least. And how many other species have a form of consciousness that humans dismiss as essentially worthless, but are actually key players in the global effort. The orcas, for example, have considerable respect for bears, and recognize their contribution to the health of the forest, which in turn allows the streams to run clear enough that the salmon can spawn, although I can’t imagine how they have enough experience of bears to form an opinion. Why do they know something that humans don’t, when we, not the orcas, have had far more opportunity to observe them closely. Our persistent androcentrism appears to be just another incarnation of the ‘White Man’s Burden’ that warped Western perceptions of native cultures all around the world in the latter days of European colonialism.”

She continued on, “Pardon me for an abrupt segue onto another train of thought, but Nakia’s called in and I think we ought to talk to her at once. The less we look like we have anything to hide the better.”

There was a general approval, with her mother furnishing the leitmotif, “Nakia, I suspect, is our greatest supporter and friend, although she wears at least two official hats as well.”

“I’m bringing her online now, then.”

Sa’aan waited until everyone was linked before continuing, “Nakia, everyone, allow me to restate the background of this conversation briefly. As you all know, Leana and I met two young male orcas yesterday, and the last we saw of them they were headed northwest, toward the Discovery passage. Early this morning, they returned, in the company of the rest of their family, including a matriarch of at least ninety years. One thing led to another, and I mentioned my connection to the orcas at AquaWorld, reproducing, as best I could, the sounds I heard them make when we were there, although I’d had no idea at the time what they meant. In retrospect, I see that some of the ‘sounds’ were actually part of a customary exchange of greetings in orca culture which describes their home, much as humans might introduce themselves by saying that they’re from Virginia, or New York City, but far more elaborate. The orcas all instantly recognized its significance, and to make a long story short, I have reason to believe that the AquaWorld orcas were captured here, and asked Nakia to check on this for me. Nakia, I understand you have answers.”

“I do,” Nakia said. “You’re absolutely right. The AquaWorld orcas were captured for ‘scientific and educational purposes’ under a Canadian permit eleven years ago, and the youngest female, who was about six years old at the time, contributed the majority of the genetic material that mediated your own chimeric transition. I have their complete files and am transmitting them now to all of you.”

“Well, that settles that then,” Sa’aan replied glumly, “and raises another problem. Since yesterday, I’ve had the opportunity to learn more of their language or, more precisely, the manner in which they communicate their thoughts. It’s more like telepathy than speech, although it uses sound as a medium, in that it transmits far more about mental attitude and reality than mere words can, since they can relay actual images, as precisely as a vid might, and describe complex relationships as might the director of a stage play, letting the ‘listener’ see precisely what the ‘speaker’ means.”

Her father summarized their previous conclusions, saying, “Sa’aan has offered convincing proof, in my own judgment, that the orcas are almost certainly intelligent within the meaning and scope of the Chimeric Citizenship Act of 2099 and its Canadian equivalent. Quite possibly more intelligent, despite being profoundly ‘alien,’ than most, or even all, humans.”

“I’d actually started to think that the day before,” Sa’aan explained, “when talking to the young males. They were very clearly not the seagoing equivalent of wolves, but more like shrewd fishermen, and that their vocalizations were complex, highly organized, and subtle, and not the mere ‘animal calls’ they were purported to be in the literature.”

Leana said, “Pretty much. I thought they were awfully clever when Sa’aan and I went out to lunch with two of them, and I only saw the conversation second hand, from my mental perception of Sa’aan’s actual participation in their conversation. But I knew Sa’aan was getting it, even though it was really hard for her to understand.”

“In that case,” her mother asked, “why didn’t we see and understand the significance of the earlier observation?”

Sa’aan answered calmly, “I think it was a matter of context. A lot happened that day, and the larger implications of our little picnic on the water just flew out the window when Leana got shot. It’s pointless to look back in any case, because at most we would have had another day to worry about it. It’s great that Canada has a law that will help to protect the orcas, and it’s great that the RSA does too, but there are other issues that may be more important, and by that I mean the personal interactions between humans and orcas that are going to have to be revisited in retrospect. I think many people, especially Chimes, will be devastated, especially if they’ve been a party to maltreatment of these people under the false assumption that they’re ‘only animals.’ I know I feel personally ashamed that I never thought to investigate the orcas at AquaWorld, other than as a ‘fun thing to see,’ and deeply regret having been even a spectator. I thought I was so clever, but I didn’t see anything.” She stopped speaking abruptly.

“Mei-mei,” her sister soothed, “don’t beat yourself up about this. The day of reckoning was coming, and we just happened to be sitting right where the lightning struck. It could have been a lot worse, because I think you have a unique gift for seeing patterns and consequences. The orcas are lucky you came along, and we are too. How many random Chimeræ do you think would have made a complete mess of this situation before they were done? But you come along, with your extraördinary abilities, and an improbable confluence of ‘lucky accidents’ all converges on one place, including ourselves, Nakia, Mr. Jefferson, later access to the marine scientists and doctors who saved your life, and probably a bunch of stuff I haven’t thought about. What are the odds against this happening? Nine out of ten? Ninety-nine out of a hundred? A million to one? A billion? Something’s going on here, dear sister, that’s bigger than any of us. And you said it already; we have to go on from where we are, not from where we wish we’d been. Stagnation is death, so let’s move forward.”

“Agreed,” her father said. “I don’t think it stretches things too far to see the workings of fate, or even Heaven, in this. So let’s move forward and put our timeline in order, and then anything else we can think of. You say you realized that the orcas were speaking a complex language yesterday?”

“Yes,” Sa’aan answered. “But at that time I didn’t quite put the fact of language together with real intelligence and the implications of a second, and probably third and fourth intelligent species on Earth. I didn’t have enough time for the idea to percolate entirely through my brain, first because I was embarrassed by the overt sexual activities between the males, and then even more embarrassed by the enormous size of their sexual organs. All of which Leana teased me about mercilessly. And then Leana got shot and philology and linguistics flew right out of my head.”

Her mother asked, “And today the orca’s language made an even deeper impression?”

“In a nutshell,” Sa’aan said tersely, and then went on, “The orcas may seem to be a jolly band of merry pranksters in their daily life, and make a game of many of their activities, but my encounter with the elder female was serious business. There was absolutely no confusion about who was boss and how she got there, so I paid really close attention to what she said. She was very eloquent. The males the day before had been the orca equivalent of teenagers, so their general level of discourse was about that of an average teenage boy, which is to say that they were pretty much happy-go-lucky idiots. If you judged humanity by the interests and conversational skills of the average teenaged boy, we’d all be in serious trouble, but there are plenty of really clever people around, so we tend to focus on our best and brightest and thereby flatter ourselves by proxy — it’s much less unsettling than thinking about the intellectual depth required to understand the average comix vid on the network. But my encounter with the leader and stateswoman of the tribe was intense. It made me feel inadequate and very, very small. I felt like I’d just stumbled onstage during the Nobel Prize ceremonies wearing the paper turkey hat I’d made in kindergarten, but without the advantage of childish innocence.”

Sa’aan explained, “She announced herself in a ceremonious and extended speech that reminded me of the reported oratory of the ancient Maori tribes, including the importance paid to genealogy and ancient deeds. She included at least a hundred generations, but I think some of the names referred to entire lineages included by reference to a famous ancestor. Much as a member of the DAR might identify a few recent ancestors and then say that her relationship to prestige and power went back to George Washington or Thomas Jefferson, because their history and genealogy would be known to everyone. It could easily have been a thousand generations.”

He responded, “And that was followed by her description of the orcas’ relationship to their ecosystem?”

“Yes,” she said. “Like the genealogy, it was incredibly detailed and accurate, as far as I can tell, and included descriptions of the territory surrounding the Strait that she could have had no direct knowledge of, like the dependence of bears and eagles and many other creatures on the salmon, and the forests on all these, since the salmon spawning runs transfer large quantities of organic nutrients from the sea to the deep interior which gets spread around by the other carnivores of the forests and rivers. There are many people alive even today with no similar understanding of how the world really works. I know I didn’t, until I looked it up in specialized scientific journals. And much of her knowledge had to come from inference, reasoned out from first principles, because it’s entirely obvious that she can’t visit the headwaters where the salmon spawn. She deduced the œcology of the salmon from her own reasoning — possibly that of past generations as well — mediated by an absolutely stunning intellect. She had personal knowledge of the fact that the female salmon go upstream gravid with many eggs and neither the female nor the male salmon return. Couple that with her observations of bears — who do come down to the strait from time to time — and you have all the necessary facts. She doesn’t write anything down, obviously, and everything she knows is memorized, so it didn’t happen through reading a popular text in forest management.” Then she thought, and added, “Unless the bears told her.”

Sa’aan cut her off, “Why? Chimeric adaptation syndrome has been present in the world for almost two hundred years. Do we imagine that all the transfers have been from ‘animals’ to humans? Must we pile fond delusions and ego-driven thick-headedness upon ignorance? If we have fox Chimeræ, and dog Chimeræ, what’s to prevent the bears from having human Chimeræ? Or the otters for that matter? I suppose that there’s a lower limit to brain size that precludes a ‘human’ level of intelligence, but I’m not sure exactly where it lies. There’s no particular reason I can imagine that would preclude fully intelligent bears, even bears with chimeric powers, can you?”

There was a long silence and then her mother answered for everyone, “No. We’ve been, in our own blithe way, as stupid as the Purists.”

“Not quite,” Sa’aan replied, “since our own sense of innate superiority was based on short-sightedness and ‘scientific’ tradition, not pure bigotry and hatred, but the results are much the same. For all I know, there are fully intelligent cows by now, human Chimeræ or something other. How many beefsteaks have we eaten over the years? There are still abattoirs dedicated to slaughtering cattle. The very word is an insult. Has anyone asked the cows how they feel about it?”

Her father looked a little uneasy, “But you’re calling for a radical restructuring of human society,” he complained. “How would it be possible without enormous suffering?”

“Not to be flip,” Sa’aan answered, “but the suffering is already going on. It’s just that the people we all agree are ‘humans’ aren’t doing too much of it. As you observed in another context, we’re not permitted to stand aside from our brother’s blood. And I’m not sure how far it will have to go in any case. I’m a carnivore, and there’s no possibility of my survival if I took up a diet of salads and grains, but there are human societies on earth who do their best not to harm other living creatures, and it might be morally safer, and far more defensible, to eat rabbits and chickens rather than large mammals, while we figure out what’s really going on.”

Nakia sighed, “This is a lot to handle without further thought, but I need to know what other proof you have of the orca’s intelligence other than an extended map, a genealogy, and some sort of innate appreciation of œcology. I have to be able to defend this thesis to my superiors, and probably to others, many of whom will be disinclined to listen.”

Sa’aan thought for a moment before replying, “When the matriarch had finished with the introductions, she asked me where I was from. My answer mentioned my own home range, which was in the Rocky Mountains, and the trip to Florida, including the Orca Circus, I’m ashamed to admit. She immediately understood that I was probably descended, in part, from these orcas, so obviously understands at least Mendelian inheritance, and understood my own abilities in sufficient detail that she fully expected me to be able to sample her own genetic material and tell her whether her surmise was true.”

“Well, it will probably help if you understand that, to an orca, living bodies are pretty much transparent. They, we, can ‘see’ with ultrasound into any space containing water, and in great detail, so the differences exhibited by my body, with whatever admixture of human features it contains, is quite obvious to them. And while I was healing the male orcas, they were perfectly placed to observe my own manipulation of the parasitic worms that had invaded their inner ears. They were probably able to detect my manipulation of their endocrine systems as well, a necessary part of healing a massive infection, and relayed this information to their mother. She, in turn, inferred from this that I was a healer, which suggests that she knows such powers exist, which suggests that it’s not only our bodies which are transparent to her. This alone ought to give us the heebie jeebies in our future dealings with them, since they probably know this from the existence of part-human Chimeræ among them. She, on the other hand, is a more or less ‘pure’ orca, although she does carry some of the precursors. I imagine that survival rates for radical chimeric transitions in an aquatic environment are quite low. It almost killed me, and I had the good luck to be unconscious during most of it, with doctors and facilities handy to keep me alive during the time in which an orca would have drowned. And the fact that she knew her genealogy back at least a hundred generations, let’s say two thousand years, and probably long before that, means that the orcas have an oral culture that easily rivals the written record of humanity, and probably stretches far back into our prehistory. She described a time, long ago, when her ancestors colonized this region as the glaciers melted back and the sea level rose. What was that, twenty thousand years ago? A little less? I know my own mind boggled. She knows enough about the history of the Earth to know that vast changes have occurred in shorelines, climates, and œcologies, and knows stories about the first of her ancestors to encounter the First Nations bands of the Strait, who arrived only shortly after the waters began rising.”

Sa’aan answered with conviction, “She must. I saw immediately that if she knew about my powers, it was a package that implied knowledge of DNA, of mediated mutations, of chimeric transition, and a veritable raft of other associations. She figured out exactly how I came by my orca genes in the twinkling of an eye. She’s a formidable intellect, although I still can’t understand her language completely. It was easier today than yesterday, though, so I’m hoping that my new brain is still wired for rapid language acquisition.”

Her mother objected, “How do you mean? Language is only a matter of vocabulary and syntax. Even if you had to simply set down words mechanically, you’d eventually wind up with something that could be used to decipher any utterance. Language acquisition isn’t a mystery anymore.”

“Unfortunately,” Sa’aan answered, “it’s not that simple. The human brain is constructed to process language in a more or less linear fashion, one thing before another, subject and predicate, no matter what order these come in or how fluid the structure of the language itself. Human babies start with two word sentences, ‘Papa go,’ ‘Mama sit,’ subject, predicate, logical categories abstracted from linear experience. But orcas process the world differently, and have a different mechanism of language acquisition. Instead of a logical process of distinguishing subject from predicate, the orca brain thinks holistically in many dimensions, with the interrelationships between things inherent as a gestalt, so a human sentence like, ‘The dog bites the man’ is nonsensical in orca terms, or rather simplistic to the point of absurdity, since the reality wave that is ‘the dog’ and the overlapping reality wave that is ‘the man’ exist and interact in a multidimensional space which allows the seamless process of ‘biting’ and ‘not biting’ to proceed without limit, and the exact action in a particular case is only an instantaneous example of their generalized relationship, but not the one and only reality. As far as I can tell, orca babies don’t abstract logical propositions from the world, but approach language from the opposite direction, sketching reality like a kinetic artist rather than a logician, with motion and direction an integral part of every description. Every orca ‘sentence’ presents a balancing of many forces and directions and perspectives that yields a new direction and force.”

Sa’aan was puzzled, “Tensor? I know what calculus is, at least vaguely, a kind of advanced mathematics, but what’s a tensor?”

Leana explained, “It sounds a lot like what you’re describing. A vector, direction plus speed and/or acceleration, is the simplest instance of a tensor, which is any set of things which obey transformation laws between coördinate systems. Weather forecasting is an example, since it integrates a continuous interaction of temperatures, wind velocities and directions, and physical geography, all spread over a large area, particularized in a probabilistic prediction of whether it will rain on a particular day in a particular place in the future. But the same tensor fields could be solved for other locations and times and yield different, but related results. It sounds like your orcas think that general relativity is pretty much baby talk.”

“You lost me at the last, but otherwise that’s pretty much like what I hear in orca language. When the matriarch listed the species that lived in and around the Strait, the relationships she sketched described everything that they do and are, and how those things interact with orcas in particular, but also other groups of entities. So the orca description of a salmon takes into account the fact that salmon in general are essential for the survival of bears and forests, among other things, and their particular relationship to orcas is only one among many interactions, the result of which is that the bears and the forests are also essential for the survival of orcas. It’s a community, not a team.”

Her mother protested, “But how can they say so much about everything in everyday conversation? It seems to me that they’d be like J.R.R. Tolkien’s Ents, whose conversations lasted for weeks at a time.”

“Well, it helps that the whole process proceeds at an accelerated speed,” Sa’aan said. “Orca brains can process sound much more efficiently than human brains can, and the other advantage is that the language itself is a kind of shorthand, like mathematics is, so that you can describe things with great precision using relatively few ideograms.”

Sa’aan tried to find the words to express what she’d experienced without confusing everyone further, “It’s like the difference between describing the motions of the planets in the Ptolemaic system, using Roman numerals and epicenters, and the same task in the Galilean/Newtonian system, where a very few formulas and data points capture reality almost perfectly. The matriarch’s exposition to me was much more formal and eloquent than one encounters in daily life, but I did get the feeling that the underlying relationships are implicit in even highly compressed high-speed orca speech, sort of like a cartoon caricature is recognizable as representing the more complex human face it exaggerates and distorts, picking out key points of recognition and ignoring the bits that contain less distinguishing characteristics. So the casual ‘ideosymbol’ for ‘salmon’ doesn’t carefully draw a sonic picture of a salmon, but presents a sort of impressionistic rendering of a salmon as ‘seen’ by an orca’s echolocative sensorium, Auguste Renoir rather than Maxfield Parrish.”

“So you’re saying that this human linearity slows us down?” her father questioned.

“Exactly. The world exists in multiple dimensions, but human language is an essentially linear process. Like Turing’s machine, it can do any computation, but takes a comparatively long time to accomplish any particular task. Contrast this with the human visual system, which is massively parallel. We know this in daily life. That’s why there are proverbs like ‘a picture is worth a thousand words’ and multimedia ‘auxillary’ materials are hugely popular accompaniments to lectures and books. Orcas, and probably other whales, think in something more like sound pictures, and use a more efficient transmission mechanism to communicate those pictures to others, so the whole process of thinking and communication takes place at vastly accelerated speeds by comparison with human thought and speech. The orca visual system is much less complex, although it’s very accurate. My visual reading speed has gone down by quite a bit, but if I use text to speech processing to translate the written words into sound, I can read much faster now than I ever could before.”

“And that’s why you have no trouble handling parallel conversations?” her mother asked.

“Yes, but it’s not a matter of my feeling superior or anything. I’m used to the pace of fully human conversations, so it feels ‘normal’ to me, but it also leaves me a lot of free time to do other things at the same time.”

“Somewhere around ninety to ninety-five percent. My hardware isn’t flexible enough for me to hold ten or twenty different conversations, but I do have the time. I have four BioLync channels available to me, so I could theoretically handle four conversations at once, but in practice I like to use a maximum of two voice links and use the other two to access external information or do other necessary, but non-vocal tasks. That may change when I start using my mobiles more extensively, but so far it hasn’t been necessary. That’s why I was able to contact emergency services and lots of other people so quickly when Leana was shot, and still maintain my breathing. I never had to remember to breathe before waking up with this body, but now I have to monitor my own physiology to make sure I don’t accidentally asphyxiate myself when I get caught up in something interesting.”

Her mother chuffed, “There’s an old story by a man named Robert Heinlein back in the middle of the twentieth century of the common era, in which an organization of clever people taught themselves a new language that allowed them to speak and understand things very quickly. Heinlein named his story ‘Gulf,’ assuming that the gap between ordinary people and these self-styled ‘supermen’ would grow to the point that they wouldn’t be able to understand each other.”

“I agree with your implied criticism,” Sa’aan answered, “but the fact that a gulf exists is intuitively obvious, since humans and whales haven’t managed to communicate with each other in five hundred thousand years of more or less modern interaction, and at least several hundred years of modern scientific investigation. In my own research, I’ve found a handful of people who believed that whales were intelligent but they couldn’t prove it and were widely regarded as crackpots, starting with John Lilly, although legends of dolphin compassion and intelligence go back to ancient times. Likewise, the orcas, at least, classify humans as intelligent, but their understanding of them is very limited. Humans, or perhaps just Western humanity, have a completely different mechanism of understanding the world, and an entirely different outlook which seems much more centered on self and less on community. Whales have been anecdotally reported to offer themselves as food for aboriginal peoples, and it’s my own guess that this is true, and that their motivation has elements of both compassion and an intellectual commitment to maintaining the integrity of the entire ecosystem. That’s just a guess, because I haven’t had the opportunity to ask any of the large cetaceans, but I can see that kindness and stoicism in orcas, even in my very short experience. The males yesterday knew that they were dying, but were determined to have a good time in spite of that, and were warm and generous to Leana and me, despite their physical pain and discomfort. Anyway, the key point in all this is that orcas think more than ten times faster than humans, never sleep, and that ninety year old matriarch has the human equivalent of well over a thousand years of thinking behind her. I know that I’d hate to take her on in a debate. So unless we demand that she produce a PhD from the Sorbonne, I don’t think we can seriously quibble about her general level of her intelligence. It’s as if toddlers were arguing about whether their parents were really ‘like them,’ because they didn’t wear training diapers.”

There was a long silence before her father spoke, “I see that we’ve fallen quite a ways from being the ‘Crown of Creation’ in the space of a few moments. It’s a humbling experience.”

“But, Dad, we never were the crown of creation. The churls of creation is more like it. It was our release of excessive greenhouse gases into the atmosphere, even after it became obvious that devastating and long-lasting harm would result, that caused enormous problems for everything living. It was our fiddling with genetic materials and careless release of dangerous mutative agents into the environment which caused the deaths of so many, and the extinction of entire species when the Chimeric Plague swept over the world. It’s a miracle we survived, and it’s still touch and go for the world, or so I understand. We’ve been, collectively, a trial and a grief to the world for the past thousand years or so, the drunken wastrel and ne’er-do-well who ought really to have been embarrassed to show his face in public, if only he weren’t a selfish fool to begin with. We went a long way toward extinguishing higher forms of life entirely, including ourselves, and not all of us have learned our lesson.”

“Strong words, daughter,” her mother said. “Don’t you have anything good to say about us?”

“Strong medicine. I don’t fully understand yet, but from what the elder told me about whales, just in passing, they’re an integral part of the global ecosystem. Without a healthy population of whales, the oceans will eventually die, just as the forests will die without salmon and bears. And if the oceans die, we all die, until anærobic bacteria evolve into a new biota. It might take awhile. Just as orcas see themselves as shepherds of the lesser waters of the strait, whales are the shepherds of the sea. I don’t understand yet, how it all works, but the matriarch does. I just need to discover the details.”

“Shepherds?” Leana said, “They’re top predators, and predators have a relationship to their prey….”

Sa’aan interrupted her, because her concept was fatally flawed, “The orcas are much more than mere predators, because they act always with loving intention. Calling them ‘top predators’ is like saying that a gardener ‘mutilates’ a tree when she prunes it to remove weak branches. We’re the predators, recklessly killing thousands of sharks for one fin, slaughtering the passenger pigeons for ‘sport’ because it was ‘fun,’ plundering both land and sea, the entire Earth, of a billion year treasury of resources to feed the insatiable greed of a few dozen generations. Orcas don’t recklessly slaughter anything, but know that their culling of the salmon schools makes them stronger, over time, and increases their likelihood of reaching the headwaters and shallow creeks the salmon need to lay their eggs in. They prune the fish to ensure their perfection, just like the gardener prunes a rose so that the resulting flowers develop perfectly. The fact that they make their living doing this is of no more note than that a farmer eats from his own crop. Like the yeoman farmers of Austin Tappan Wright’s Islandia

That seemed as good a place as any to stop. She terminated the connections and turned toward the orcas around her.

Chapter Nine — Wide Open Spaces

Sa’aan was still out on the open water, surrounded by the orcas, of whom she made the lucky number. They were moving rather vaguely toward the entrance to Burrard Inlet, English Bay, and toward her pool, but she wasn’t anxious to arrive. It was a huge relief to be free of talking, and from the claustrophobic anxiety she’d felt when everyone seemed to be arguing against her.

Couldn’t they see what was going on? she thought to herself, peevishly. Once you know that orcas are intelligent, and probably other so-called ‘animals’ as well, everything else followed like a line of ducklings following their mother. Ignore one piece of her argument, and the entire system of accommodations and rights granted to human/animal Chimeræ around the world could evaporate overnight. The Purists could wind up triumphant as the most self-centered portion of ‘humanity’ scrambled to retain their false sense of separation from the living world, and their pride of place as the ‘

She dove deep, feeling the pressure increase rapidly on her body and lungs, and then hurled herself upward, toward the bright circle of sky high above her, caught in the vast surface of specular reflection that extended outward until it faded into murky invisibility. With a few clicks as she rose, she checked the position of the other orcas to ensure their safety, then burst through the surface and saw her visible horizon expand to encompass the entire strait, arcing high into the air, much higher than she’d leapt with Leana, and then plunged twisting back under the surface.

There’s a metaphor here somewhere, she thought. When I escape my natural boundaries, I gain a new perspective, but also lose an old one. My audible image of the world is supplanted by an expanded visual image. But the reverse is also true. When I return to the water, my visual image narrows, but is augmented by a much more robust sound picture. She thought about this for a while, then reasoned, It’s more reliable because I myself am the source of my own audible ‘light,’ where visual knowledge is always dependent on external sources. Then she added a caveat, Except for beings who have the power of bioluminescence. Then she smiled wryly to herself as she thought of the inherent humor of her fastidious afterthought. I can now safely say that I’m definitely the biggest nerd on the entire planet. I should change my middle name to ‘Superlative.’

Behind her, the mountainous arc of Bowen Island rose abruptly from the blue-green surface of the bright sunlit sea, while directly to her left was a similar arc of mountain like an island, although she knew that it was Cypress Mountain and actually part of the mainland, a relatively minor peak along the fringes of the convoluted mountain structures that made up the Pacific Ranges. Once long ago there were ski lifts and snowy slopes surrounding the mountain during the winter, but now it was more or less a handy year-round viewpoint and trailhead for hikes out into the British Columbia back country. She could still see the remnants of the old slopes, marked by younger trees and a slightly different color of green. Evidently they’d planted monoculture trees down the old ski trails, so they didn’t quite blend in with the older trees around them.

Ahead, she saw the smaller rise of wooded land that was the bluff on which her parent’s home stood, with her pool below. She was just passing the entrance to English Bay, not too far from where she’d have to start talking again. She was of two minds about this, as she wasn’t sure what they’d talked about, or decided, since she’d left the conversation, so she naturally did two things at once to preserve as many of her options as possible.

She began by accessing the small airship that Mr. Jefferson had given her, making sure that she understood the audio-visual interface methods as well as the piloting controls. Then she located the vids she’d taken at AquaWorld, editing them down to cover only the time from the first appearance of the orcas to the moment when they all left the arena and headed down to the restaurant at ground level. She added a selection of scenes from vids she found on the net documenting a few previous performances of the AquaWorld orcas that seemed likely to convey their identities and general state of health. She set it up, ready to play, and started arranging for her first flight with the new mobile.

She opened the airship garage and spun up the propellers but left them at neutral pitch, retaining her options against the advent of a quick getaway. Then she checked the buoyancy of the airship and trimmed the ballonets for fore and aft balance and neutral specific gravity, based on the outside air temperature and the barometer reading. Actually, she trimmed a little heavy, to ensure that the airship didn’t hang up on the outside doors when she left the storage unit and rolled freely along the small wheel on its keel. She then realized that the sun would begin warming the skin of the airship as soon as she took it out, raising the temperature of the gas and making it lighter within a few moments and made appropriate adjustments, trimming very slightly heavier to ensure maximum stability as she exited the hanger. She didn’t want to begin a grand gesture and wind up doing a pratfall.

She planned her exit carefully, using the online blueprints of the building and the internal specs of the airship to calculate clearances and turning radii. She could use her elevators and rudders to maneuver through the outside doors, and then vent air from both ballonets to ascend quickly. The wind was very light, about five knots from the southwest, so she didn’t foresee any difficulty in overall maneuvering or navigation. Once she had it aloft, she’d be able to see it coming toward her, and of course she could simply feed the resident AI her current location and projected course and speed, then let it find her on its own if things went wonky.

When all was ready, she opened the outer doors and quickly negotiated the exit of her aircraft, a tricky bit of piloting because of its size. Once fully out in the open air, she vented first the forward ballonet to angle the nose of the airship toward the sky, and then set the pitch of her propellers to start acceleration, venting the aft ballonet to adjust her buoyancy and angle of rise. Even though she was only looking through the observation cameras, and couldn’t actually feel the acceleration, the rush of her mobile through the air was none-the-less exhilarating and she was very pleased to see how rapidly the surface of the earth dropped away. Quickly, she contacted the Vancouver control tower and notified them of her flight as an unregulated AI-mediated flight planned to remain below one hundred and fifty meters in altitude and away from populated areas. She also relayed via secure channel the emergency piloting access methods which would allow the authorities to take temporary control of the craft to avoid collisions with any other aircraft in the vicinity. She didn’t foresee any problems, as the airship was much more maneuverable than any fixed wing craft, and rivaled even helicopters for hazard avoidance. If need be, she could inflate her ballonets and drop rapidly toward the earth, stop quickly by reversing the pitch of her propellers or, by simply turning the aircraft sideways with her rudders, stop nearly dead in the air, almost on a dime. The aircraft was only streamlined along its axis and, when turned at right angles to a former course, didn’t ‘coast’ any better than an average birthday balloon.

She wondered idly if she could possibly get a job as a pilot on one of Mr. Jefferson’s cargo airships, once she had a little more practice, as she quickly realized that her control of the craft was almost instinctive, since piloting it required her to handle control surfaces and movements in three dimensions that mirrored the control surfaces of her own body and were essentially the same movements as she made in her native environment, and the experience, even mediated through a BioLync interface, was actually more exciting than her real voyage in a real airship, because she was at the controls… correction, she was the controls, and her new airship approximated the experience of inhabiting a second body. She could feel the movements of the vessel through her cochs in full-sensorium ultrareality, and the access methods were quickly becoming as instinctive as her control of her implanted BioLyncs. She finally knew why her former classmates had been so enthusiastic about the newest UR

Ultrareality.

games. This could easily become addictive.

At cruising speed, it didn’t take long for her to catch sight of the orcas, so she angled down toward the surface of the water and simultaneously told the orcas that what she had to show them was ready at hand.

Curious, they gathered around her as she brought her mobile to a stationary position to one side of the group, and brought up the edited vid, projected by the flexible vid skin, deciding on the fly to alter the presentation to start with the historical shots and then show her interaction with the orcas on the day she became reïnfected with chimeric syndrome.

They became very excited and obviously recognized the captive orcas, leaping about in celebration as they caught the first glimpse of their siblings in many years. After some confusion, during which Sa’aan was hard-pressed at times to persuade the enthusiastic orcas to resist the temptation to leap up and bring her airship down so they could see how it worked, the matriarch managed to settle them down and then conveyed to Sa’aan the captives’ relationships to her as children and grandchildren, together with a short précis of their paternal ancestries while Sa’aan ran through what she thought were the best ‘mug shots’ manually. Her youngest grandchild, she thought, from Sa’aan’s physical appearance, must be Sa’aan’s partial mother.

So it was true. Although she’d known this intellectually through her own investigation, hearing the younger female’s identification brought it home. She now saw the older female clearly as a partial ancestor, and could see her own physical resemblance to her ‘great grandmother’ and ‘cousins,’ or whatever a family relationship through Chimeric Adaptation Syndrome genetic transfer might be called. She fought down a growing rage that threatened to overwhelm her with hatred for those who had kidnapped this innocent girl, had sold her into slavery, however ‘benign,’ and had torn her away from her home and family. Steeling herself, she read through the public records and publicity releases from AquaWorld to find the youngest female’s show name, Gada, and asked the elder what her full name was, her real name, the name of the matriarch’s long-lost granddaughter, the true name of her own just-found other mother.

The elder female responded with a full genealogy, partially duplicating her own of course, but extending back into another ancestry though her grandfather, who’d evidently traveled down the coast from Alaska and had caught her grandmother’s eye. The matriarch described him in what was obviously loving detail, a very large male with a fully-developed dorsal fin which had a little quirk at the tip that was very distinctive, and the pattern of white on black that identified him in detail, as unique as a fingerprint, as well as an exact description of his formal range off the coast of Russian Alaska, and his name, which she suddenly realized wasn’t just a collection of sounds, but a description of his character and deeds.

First off, she gritted her teeth and reopened her BioLync connections to her family and Nakia, starting again with neither much of an apology nor any elaborate preamble, “Hi, all. I had to take a break from arguing. What have you been talking about while I was offline?”

Leana answered first, “Nothing much. Daddy and Nakia argued for a while over etiologies and prolegomena before concluding that you were probably the resident expert and had the right of first opinion and comment. It took quite some time, but then we went back into the house for a nice glass tea and a little nosh. We’ve just been chatting about the weather and whether you were still bringing the orcas home for a little hachnasat orchim.”

Sa’aan laughed at her sister’s sly pun on the Hebrew term describing the mitzvah of hospitality as she said, “Now I wish I’d stuck around for a bit longer. Dad so rarely admits that anyone has a better opinion then he does. I would have liked to hear it.”

Leana replied breezily, “In which case, you wouldn’t have heard anything but more arguments. It was your abrupt disappearance from the link that started the recriminations and soul-searching. I think they’re both very sorry and will be good in future, but that’s just a guess. Damn! but you were awfully good, there at the end, kicking ass and taking names.”

“Leana!” her mother interjected. “That’s about enough of that sort of language!”

Leana was unrepentant. “Mom! Sa’aan was making great points, tightly reasoned and persuasive, but you and Daddy and Nakia were carping about trivial details. Please don’t pretend you didn’t see what we were doing. I contributed to it myself, to my chagrin, because it was just too complicated for me to take in at first. It’s like when she used to blithely explain ‘who done it’ five minutes after the vid started when she was only seven and we watched mysteries on the vidscreen together, or solved those maddening metal puzzles with the impossible angles and rings just by looking at them. She can’t help it; it’s like she’s a genius at this sort of thing. If there’s a pattern anywhere, she sees it.”

Sa’aan said calmly, “That’s alright, Jie-jie. I know it’s going to turn out just as I described. I’m in the process of testing my hypotheses, and I don’t think it will take very long.”

Her father said, “Sa’aan, neshomeleh, my darling girl, I do apologize for grilling you too intensely before, but I do have a new question without any embedded value judgments. What do you mean by ‘testing your hypothesis?’ How can you arrange confirmation of your theory so quickly?”

She answered, “Easily, as it turns out. The orca matriarch is a fount of information whose memory hoard extends back tens of thousands of years that I know of, as part of a fully oral tradition. She knows pretty much everything related to the marine environment of the west coast of British Columbia, as well as Alaska and Washington, and can relate traditional stories of the latest ice ages and the first appearance of human beings on these waters, an interesting sidenote by means of which you can make your colleagues in the palæontology and history departments insanely jealous. I’m fully disclosing to her exactly what’s been done to her children, and what happened to me. Actually, she already knows this in a general way, but I’m giving her the deluxe tour. I’m very confident that she knows everything that goes on with orcas in this corner of the world, so I fully expect her to tell me if I’m right.”

“How exactly are you disclosing all this?” her mother asked.

Sa’aan answered, “I have the orca show on vid, and I’ve done some research on my own to find individual shots of each of the orcas, so that she can see clearly who they are and hear their voices. I’m taking out the mobile that Mr. Jefferson gave me, so everyone can see.”

Nakia rolled her eyes expressively and said wryly, “I suppose there’s not much point in asking you to hold off for a bit until we can figure out a plan?”

Sa’aan smiled to herself and said, “True. No point at all. I’m taking the difficult issues out of everyone’s hands, so no one can be blamed but me, and the politicians can’t raise a raft of complex objections that make the whole enterprise more difficult.”

Nakia laughed out loud, saying, “Sa’aan! You minx! I’ve never known a girl with quite your supply of chutzpah. Are you sure you’re only fifteen?”

“Well,” Sa’aan answered, “I missed my birthday party, what with being in a coma and all, but I would have entered high school as a freshman in September of this year, except that Vancouver runs high schools from eighth grade to twelfth instead of ninth though twelfth as they did in Campanella, so I’m not exactly sure what they call kids in ninth grade here. I’m a little late getting started, since it’s the end of October, but I expect I’ll have no trouble catching up.”

“No, I don’t suppose you will,” Nakia said. “You do realize that we’ll all be caught with our pants down here?”

“Of course. But waiting until you get permission to act from your bosses will put you, and us, into an untenable position. I’ve thought this through very carefully and this is the only way to handle this with a reasonable expectation of success. A fait accompli is a lot easier to handle than stumbling around like idiots until the shit hits the fan and then asking for permission to clean up the mess, if you’ll pardon the crude expression, Mom.”

“That’s alright, sweetheart,” she said resignedly. “You’re obviously not my baby anymore. The occasional forceful expletive can lend a certain nuance to a phrase that’s hard to duplicate. Just don’t let it become an unthinking habit.”

“No worries, Mom. I only said it in the vulgar manner to emphasize the fact that we have a serious situation before us, and we have to work out a serious strategy to handle it. Kid gloves and diplomacy won’t handle it. Measured responses won’t handle it. This very moment in time is quite possibly the start of a downward spiral which could very well lead to the elimination of all human rights for Chimeræ and the eventual extinction of most higher forms of life on Earth.”

She instantly realized what the First Nations peoples, like the Haida Nation from whom she’d borrowed her name, meant when they spoke of ‘all our relations, and why the First Nations peoples of the Northwest, at least, so often chose their own adult names, and might change them in extraordinary circumstances.’ She’d instantly seen the pun on Iron Butterfly’s In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida, ‘in the garden of life,’ in her other mother’s show name but was now struck by the Jungian synchronicity of it. She herself had been expelled from the land as thoroughly as had Eve from the mythic garden, but she’d reëntered the living waters of the original womb of life, the encircling sea, mayyim chayyim, in a curious twist on the ancient story, returning to the same waters from which her other mother had been callously abducted. Who says that you can’t go home again? she mused.

The Haida peoples, like their cousins the Tlingit and Tsimshian nations up and down the northern coast, had imagined that the orcas had their own villages under the sea, to which humans might travel and return under the right circumstances, through which seeming anthropomorphization they correctly identified the orcas as fellows in the marine environment, with similar needs and expectations. They’d anciently imagined, long before Chimerism had made its appearance in the millennia to come, that human women and orca chiefs might marry and conceive children, a scenario which was featured in many of their traditional stories. And who says fairy tales don’t come true?

Over and over again, in ancient societies all over the world, the theme of animal-human matings reappears, with the resulting children possessing special powers. Could this be an an echo in the collective unconscious of the actual events today and the past few hundred years? Could the the Chimeric Plague, in which billions of human beings had perished, have cast a dark shadow back through time? Or had the human psyche merely intuited that such pairings were possible, long before the technology existed to attempt it? Was everything that could be imagined actually real in some sense, or potentially real, at the moment of an idea’s conception?

She shivered when she remembered the many ways dreamt of in religious texts, in science fiction, and in sober scientific projections, for the world to end. Had the ancient Roman superstition, nomen est omen, naming a thing — especially a bad thing — is a portent, invoking destiny, been sound reasoning, as if mere thinking made things happen in reality? Was the imagination that potent?

If that were true, then magic was real, which she refused to believe, yet it was undeniable that new sciences, new discoveries, were usually made by dreamers. The mind which was content with the way things are isn’t predisposed to rock the boat, and is as likely to ignore new data as not, especially if the new ideas conflict with its own happy delusions.

The vids from AquaWorld, ‘home movies,’ she now realized, at least for her, or more properly holocaust memorials, grotesque scenes from the concentration camps, the ‘happy prisoners’ on display, like the Jews at Theresienstadt

A Nazi concentration camp set up as a showpiece for their supposed ‘humane’ separation of the Jews from the ‘Aryan’ citizens of Germany. In fact, the inhabitants were treated so poorly that they had to be replaced at regular intervals with fresh captives.

, the Nazi ghetto tarted-up for visiting dignitaries and the newsreels, were almost over, so she prepared the next selection, a time lapse vid of her own transformation, something she was as interested in as the orcas, since she’d never seen the actual process, and only had access to the medical records because they were her own. She was stunned by the efforts the doctors and healers had made to preserve her life, and the lengths they went to to nourish her and keep her heart beating and respiration going during her transition. Rotating teams of healers spent most of every day in the water with her, once they saw how the transformation was tending, and a team of engineers crafted custom medical prostheses and appliances on the fly to maintain her airway and function as an antique ‘iron lung’ until her growing body caught up with her increased need for oxygen. She made a mental note to look up each of her medical team and thank them personally, something she hadn’t realized was so very necessary until she’d seen the vids. They’d even invented a new protective silicone-based lotion for the teams in the water to prevent damage to their skin due to extended immersion in the saline water bath which supported her growing body. The same lotion had been used on her transforming body, before her own natural skin protections took over from the artificial equivalent.

Sa’aan turned to the matriarch and asked for her opinion of what she’d just seen in the context of her transformation.

She answered with a complex series of vocalizations which expressed sympathy and compassion for her suffering, and provided a detailed account of similar transitions, most of which had resulted in the deaths of the individuals involved, among the orcas and other marine mammals. If Sa’aan had it right, there was a living orca/human Chimera living in the far north, up beyond Novoarkhangelsk in Russian Alaska, not her own ‘grandfather,’ in fact, but a distant relation of the father of her other mother, and several large cetaceans. She wasn’t familiar enough with the various kinds of whales to recognize any of the larger survivors by species, even from the detailed descriptions, names, and genealogies her grandmother provided, but a few moments spent accessing the net cured that lack. There were two grey whale/human Chimeræ, a blue whale/human Chimera, and at least one humpback/human Chimera. Her ‘great grandmother’ wasn’t sure how many there were around the world, because the whales themselves seemed strangely not to care, and so didn’t carry the news.

This was huge news to Sa’aan. In the first place, it meant that she wasn’t unique, that there was at least one individual with a similar background, and orca/human Chimera, and who knew how many around the world. If it was possible for so many individuals to survive without medical intervention, others might have done so as well, and the possibility of further survivals could be greatly enhanced if she could get human medical technology involved. She swam aside and thought about this for a moment, trying to fit it into what she already knew.

“What do you mean by that, Sa’aan?” Nakia responded after a slight pause. “Aren’t you being alarmist about this? I can see your point about Chimeræ, But we already have a good handle on global warming, the destruction of forests and grasslands has been almost totally eliminated, and nobody builds on marine wetlands anymore, because banks won’t issue mortgages or construction loans on properties destined to wind up under water. And we’re pumping greenhouse gases back into the ground almost as fast as we were generating them two hundred years ago.”

“True,” she replied. “But we’re still overfishing, partly to replace the food supplied by drowned farmlands, partly to eliminate methane production from large herds of cattle or other farm animals, and also because, with the increase in overall living standards around the globe, everyone wants to live high on the hog, so our collective predation on the ocean biosphere is almost as high as it was before the human population crash, despite numbering less than a tenth of what we were before. We’re still killing whales, and I believe my informant, the orca matriarch, when she tells me that whales are vital to the survival of healthy oceans, without which we all die. Whales are top predators, even baleen whales, and we can’t take food out of their mouths, either directly or indirectly, without suffering fatal consequences if their numbers decline any further, either indirectly through starvation or directly through murder. I can’t argue this point just now. I don’t have all the data yet, nor do we have the time. A criminal conspiracy is afoot to silence me, and anyone I may have influenced or contacted. You, Nakia, Edith, and all the other people who’ve been in close communication with me since arriving in Vancouver, must look to their families and friends. They’re quite likely in mortal danger, just as my own family is right now.”

There was an extended silence before Leana continued, “So what’s your plan, Sa’aan.”

She just happened to have a plan ready and waiting. “Nakia, have you contacted Edith Mortenson yet?”

“No, not yet. But I will.”

“In the messages I left you, Nakia, I told you enough for you to figure it out, but didn’t know who else might have access to your stored messages, so left it all a little vague, or at least plausibly ignorable. Although I was aware that Edith has an interest, we’re guests in this country and my own first responsibility is to the government which issued our passports. But it’s vital now that she be warned and brought into this conversation. She has the authority to involve the local resources which we’ll all need to survive.”

“Agreed,” Nakia answered. “I’d wanted to find out a little more about what was going on before I got her involved. I’m still a little hesitant to take this quite as seriously as you seem to, though. Could you elaborate?”

Sa’aan responded instantly, “It’s usually very reasonable to be cautious, but these are desperate times and Edith has to be contacted right away. If what I suspect — and by suspect I really mean ‘know’ but don’t have sufficient external proof yet — is true, this will fall into Canada’s lap first, and then cascade down to the RSA within a few days, and the longer we delay, the uglier it will get. I expect that I’ll have proof directly, and will let you know when my dark suspicions are fully verified.”

“So I should call her now?” Nakia asked.

Sa’aan said politely, “Please. We’ll wait.”

Nakia dropped out of the link for a moment or two, and then relinked with Edith tagging along. “Sa’aan, I have Edith on the link with me. And I took the time to request protective surveillance of the individuals who’ve been in contact with you, as well as their families, until we can investigate further. The Canadian end is being handled by Staff Sergeant Olive Olafsen of their ViCLAS unit, as they have general jurisdiction in cases involving organized crime, as well as a personal interest, but you’re going to have to back this up with facts.”

Edith introduced herself, saying, “Hi, Sa’aan, everyone. I’m glad to meet you all again. I understand from Nakia that you have something to say that I should hear.”

“I do. To start out with the most easily explained, I have every reason to believe that the orcas are fully intelligent within the meaning of the Chimeric Citizenship Act of 2099, as revised in 2124, at least in the RSA. I understand that Canada has similar provisions enacted in the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms of 1982, as revised and extended in 2035 to guarantee the full civil rights of all individuals affected by Chimeric Adaptation Syndrome.”

Edith said, “Well, that’s certainly big news, but surely not earthshaking. Scientists have speculating about this issue for years. So you’re claiming to have proof? I’m sure we’ll be able to handle this in due course, and arrange for some sort of mutually beneficial relationship when your proof is offered and accepted.” She sounded a bit puzzled to have been called upon especially to hear this somewhat less than overwhelming news.

She went back to the elder, and swam close beside her, asking again about the whale-human Chimeræ, where they were, and how she might find them.

The matriarch seemed amused by this, and conveyed to Sa’aan the near certainty that the whales knew all about her, and would come calling, by and by, whenever they were moved to do so.

Curious, Sa’aan asked how they knew, since she’d only been in Vancouver for a few days. What she heard astounded her.

According to her great grandmother, all the large cetaceans knew everything that any other of them knew, since they were constantly in touch in the same manner as the orcas, much slower because their vocalizations were at lower frequencies, but also much more pervasive because their vocalizations could be heard over thousands of miles, given the right conditions, which the whales were highly skilled at taking advantage of. Her great grandmother had heard a whale in the area today, so it was almost certain that this one whale would have detected and understood their own conversations between themselves, and eventually every whale still alive in the world would know eventually, depending on how far the information had to travel, and whatever else was occupying their thoughts and conversations.

She spent a few moments filling Sa’aan in on the complex relationships of the larger whales to the global environment as well, explaining that the whales are both major predators and shepherds of the oceans, somewhat like the orcas were of inshore waters, and generally acted, at least in times past, to maintain homeostasis on a global scale by what and how much they eat. Their interaction with krill, pelagic crustaceans, phytoplankton, and other food sources low on the food chain gave them very loose control over their populations, while their observations of the health and composition of these creatures allowed them to monitor the overall health of the system and apply corrections at need.

The web of relationships she described made Sa’aan’s head spin, as each organism was in a specific relationship to others, wheels within wheels, all woven into an interlocking mesh in which everything eventually connected to almost everything else, the dependency paths so lengthy and entwined that humans could hardly have kept track of them before the invention of the holographic computer, and didn’t reliably keep track of them even now, for lack of both insight and the necessary interest.

This highlighted a paradox of North American history at least. The First Nations peoples that she knew of were reputed to have have held aboriginal variations of the same principles, which puzzled her until she realized that in antiquity, the Haida, Tsimshian, and Tlingit peoples had been very influential, living at the point of entry taken by most of the First Nations throughout the Americas, and had maintained extensive trading networks, so she supposed their ideas may have extended far afield, all based upon intimate contact with orcas, so many of the original First Nations philosophies may have had their origins in actual contacts with the ancestors of the orcas still living in Northwest coastal waters.

Sa’aan also realized that the whales, in exercising control over phytoplankton populations, were also having an effect on the global uptake of carbon dioxide and release of oxygen into the atmosphere. She saw the beginnings of a pattern begin to emerge as she listened to her great grandmother’s tale.

The elder had moved on to the wholesale slaughter of the whales in the eighteenth century and thereafter, showing how these losses had slowly begun changing the nature of the oceans, as communities which had been interacting for millions of years slowly disintegrated, unable to sustain themselves as their structures were maimed and their moderators were murdered. The modern phenomenon of mechanized destruction of entire fish stocks had only accelerated a general decline that had started much earlier, when whales first started being ‘mined’ for oil.

Adding to the deleterious effects of removing most of the whales from the ocean ecosystem, factory fish-harvesting systems like trawlers had strip-mined the ocean bottoms, destroying deep-water corals, clams, tube worms, and other marine fauna, roiling the waters with choking mud, disrupting the fertile sediments, and leaving devastation behind.

The surface of the continents was involved as well, and the bears, although other top predators were also involved. The buildup of large herds of grazing animals, combined with human protection of those herds from predators, allowed the conversion of vegetable matter, ordinarily at least a temporary carbon sink, directly into methane and carbon dioxide, and their wastes flowed to the oceans, just as the later release of enormous quantities of synthetic nitrate fertilizers and phosphates into the rivers and oceans, after being washed off of farmlands, or dumped from sewage systems, which caused algal and bacterial blooms and eutrophication across vast areas of ocean and crowding out other forms of life, simultaneously increasing warming and decreasing available food supplies, with dire prospects for the oceans as a whole.

All the top predators were under threat, since human beings were systematically engaged either in slaughtering them, preventing them from doing their jobs, or eliminating important resources they needed to survive, gumming up the works of the global ecosystem as thoroughly as the ‘saboteurs’ who destroyed the wooden ‘shoes’ that held railroad tracks in place during the French railway strike of 1910 mired the rail owners from profiting from their investment, made more lucrative by stiffing the workers.

It was a vicious cycle, or complex series of vicious cycles, wheels within wheels. More nitrogen/phosphorus compounds caused more algæ and bacteria, which removed oxygen from the water and killed fish; which allowed more algæ and bacteria to grow, and this simple cycle was overlaid by overfishing which resulted in fewer shrimp and other grazers on the algal plants and bacteria, which led to more of both.

The growth of ‘junk’ algæ crowded out the larger and more complex varieties of life which offered habitat for baby fish, which meant that new fish weren’t being born to replace those destroyed, all of which let the hypoxic algal soup proliferate and choke off even more life. Centuries of dumping industrial waste, including radioactive waste, had made vast areas of the ocean floor poisonous, which killed more fish, allowing more algæ and bacteria to bloom, and so on and on and on.

Sa’aan did her best not to scream at Edith, “It’s rather more urgent than that, I think. When I talked to the matriarch of the local band of resident orcas, she informed me that she knew about the chimeric adaptation syndrome, and instantly understood that I was a human/orca Chimera, and that I had healing powers that exceeded normal physical limitations.”

Edith seemed not to think much of this information, as she brusquely replied, “Which means? Everyone knows about this. It was on the newsvids. It may be amazing that an orca does, but the fact that she learned about this isn’t especially surprising since it’s not exactly a secret.”

“Actually, it is surprising. I’ve just had confirmation from said matriarch that there is an orca/human Chimera living up north in Russian Alaska, and there are probably more. There are certainly other marine mammal/human hybrids, and undoubtedly many others all across the biosphere. Chimeric Adaptation Syndrome working from orca to human would be far less likely to cause fatal consequences, since there is ample body mass to handle temporary energy needs, although there would be considerable danger of drowning if an affected individual lost consciousness. But orcas are quite capable of working together to support a stricken individual, keeping them at the surface and awake so that they aren’t in immediate danger. An existing orca Chimera with healing powers would also be able to maintain breathing until the unconscious victim of a rough transition recovers. I’m not sure of the exact scenario, but am very sure that it’s been going on for a long time, long enough that many intelligent beings are aware of it, even though it seems to have escaped our own local notice.”

Edith cleared her throat nervously before saying, “So you’re not just saying that they’re intelligent, but that some of them may be human.”

“Precisely,” Sa’aan replied. “Or at least as human as you or I. And you can undoubtedly guess what that implies; the Purists would love to litigate a case arguing non-humanity from the other side. An orca who’d transitioned to part human would be the legal key to arguing that every human/animal Chimera is more animal then human, and then we’ll all be in deep trouble. So our immediate concern is to arrange our facts and arguments in sufficient detail and weight that we, and all the other visibly hybridized Chimeræ, retain our citizenship and other rights in both our countries, eventually the world. There are also several large whale/human Chimeræ alive, but I don’t know where they are just now. And the strong possibility exists that there are large mammal hybrids out in the wild on land, since we’ve shortsightedly kept track only of persons born with human birth certificates, even though we’ve always known that other species were affected by the chimeric syndrome. Magical thinking, I believe, or sheer stupidity, has prevented us from seeing that our genetic material has entered the rest of the animal kingdom just as thoroughly as theirs has entered ours. I’m not sure that we can rely any longer on the antique concepts of kingdoms, phyla, clades, classes, orders, families, geni, and species to make any sense today, since we’re all of us blurring at the edges, slowly merging into the great web of life on this planet. If every living creature now alive on Earth is a relation, in a real sense, can we still support a culture of large animal exploitation? It’s one thing to say that it’s ok to eat a cow, because we diverged from cattle millions of years ago, but quite another to say that it’s ok to eat Aunt Sally, or one of her children, because they don’t happen to have hands and feet. I’m not sure about chickens, although the moral argument is dicey, nor am I sure exactly what carnivores, like me for instance, can ethically consume. I’m pretty sure that human genetic material hasn’t migrated to salmon and other fish, but Dad and I were perfect examples of the fact that non-mammalian Chimeræ are possible, even though very rare in today’s world. The world in years to come might turn out to be very different, because we seem to be in the midst of another ‘Cambrian Explosion,’ diverging rapidly at the same time we converge.”

Edith objected again, “This sounds suspiciously like veganism. How can you distinguish this ‘new’ theory of yours from the ethical principles that underlie Buddhism, Jainism, some forms of Hinduism, and other ethical abstention from causing animal suffering?”

“By the same method,” Sa’aan explained dryly, “that we distinguish a carnivorous diet from that of cannibals. When we — and by ‘we,’ I mean the scientists who discovered the direct relationship between exposure to the genetic material of a particular individual and the resulting development of chimeric syndrome when they studied my own transformation — found that we could trace the genetic admixtures found in modern Chimerism to particular individuals, namely me and my orca donor, we also created the technology necessary to trace human genes, specific human genetic materials, back into the rest of the animal kingdom, and probably into other humans, although nobody seems to have thought of actually doing it. The undoubted reason that there are so many apparently ‘pure’ humans still walking the streets is probably because they’re human/human Chimeræ. It may well be that many of us are more closely related to our family pets than we are to our supposed cousins, and the lonely cattle rancher out on the dry plains of Saskatchewan might be selling his literal children for slaughter. Many people are going to be very upset when this gets out, which will be almost any moment now. Whole industries will vanish overnight, and our governments are going to have to be prepared to deal with several major social upheavals, going on all at once, and significant costs.”

Eutrophication had always been around, but was once confined to puddles too small to support a community of grazers, fish, crustaceans, or the other animals which kept the algæ in check. It was a final stage in the death throes of a pond as it evaporated and gave its biomass back to the earth. The same algal blooms extending over tens and hundreds of miles were like gangrenous lesions, the visible signs of deep infection and disease.

The oceans were the ultimate source of oxygen on Earth, since continental forests and grasslands, which released oxygen into the atmosphere, barely kept up with oxygen uptake through weathering and oxidation of minerals, respiration by living creatures, and other oxygen sinks. So if the infection spread, if pollution and overuse of ocean resources reached a tipping point from which the oceans were unable to recover, even with the help of a renewed population of whales, the global seas would die, and then the ‘interesting bits’ of the natural world would die, since the majority of the oxygen used by the world’s complex organisms were produced in the upper layer of Earth’s seas.

Sa’aan had to think about this for a while and swam off to the edge of the pod. The matriarch didn’t seem terribly concerned about the coming disaster, and she got the impression that the whales in general took a much longer view than she thought possible, and knew that another web of interacting species would eventually take the place of any that went extinct. In fifty million years, assuming that the greater cetacean network of stories and lineages carried the necessary information, one might see entire ecosystems come and go, flickering into existence and out of it like mayflies, as evanescent as dewdrops in the morning sunshine.

She shivered, not from cold but from the recognition that her ‘great grandmother’ was also a profoundly alien intelligence, as inscrutable at times as a stone, and as inexorable as gravity.

She wanted the elder to meet her sister, and Nakia as well. She wondered if either could connect mentally with any of the orcas, since that would simplify their arguments. One kid with a fongluh-crazy

Extremely nutty. Crazy-crazy. Chinese and English reduplication of the same concept for emphasis.

idea would be easy to ignore in favor of retaining the status quo undisturbed, since the required changes to human treatment of whales and the oceans would tweak a lot of vested interests, including the Japanese ‘scientific’ commercial whaling operations and the Chinese fishing fleet.

She’d already guessed that the Japanese were probably behind the attacks on her and her family. There was probably a tame analyst sitting somewhere in a little office who’d foreseen at least part of this problem already and dispassionately crafted the most ‘cost-effective,’ if murderous, solution to a potential problem. It was reasonably likely that they’d already discovered cetacean/human Chimeræ on their own, and were keeping the knowledge secret. Now that she thought about it, with the number of whales they killed and butchered every year, which activity would have inevitably revealed the traits of chimerism, that reasonable likelihood rose to near certainty, which implied that there were a lot of people with more than monetary concerns, anxious to keep their genocidal conspiracy and past activities secret.

She wasn’t sure about the Norwegians and Icelanders, since their slaughters were more restrained, or the Chinese, who were heavily-invested in exploiting the ocean fisheries all over the world, but it was within reason that they may have formed a small part of a larger conspiracy, even if lacking the resources or the will to handle a coördinated covert operation in a foreign country on their own.

Also, neither Iceland nor Norway had a recent history of gang activities, and the Chinese tended to restrain themselves to the drug trade — which seemed almost like rough justice after their brutal subjugation to the overlordship of the British and their criminal narcotics cartels during the Opium wars of the latter part of the Nineteenth Century, an uncomfortable reminder of the violent national gangsterism that characterized the reign of the British Empire’s Queen Victoria that few bothered to remember, even in the ‘enlightened scholarship of the modern era — whereas Japan had a long tradition, dating back to feudal times, of more-or-less criminal gangs with rigid hierarchies and rigorously-enforced rituals of loyalty enforced throughout the ranks.

After Japan’s defeat at the end of World War II, groups of right-wing nationalists had exploited violence as a commercial product, for sale to the highest bidder, fitting easily into the social hierarchy of the existing samurai-wannabe gangs, and their pernicious influence remained a dark undercurrent to Japanese society, even centuries after their fall from official access to power.

So all the elements that the recent attacks displayed were already present in this subset of Japanese gang activity, many of whom traced their inherent ‘right’ to use deadly force straight back to the samurai bands of ‘ronin,’ who sold their services to the highest bidder.

In fact, now that she thought about it, the attempt to eliminate a potential embarrassment to a specific industry or business group fit into the pattern of Japanese protection racketeering known as sôkaiya, part of a yakuza criminal enterprise which caters to corporate desires to remain scandal-free and charges ‘public relations fees’ to protect the company’s reputation by intimidating opponents through any means necessary, much as a troop of samurai warriors would protect the honor of their clan or feudal overlord. These activities often merge seamlessly into blackmail and extortion.

Because of this lengthy history, the gangs were entrenched in society, so that many of them actually had offices and were listed in the BioLync directories, just like other businesses or social organizations. One could walk into an office or call and make an appointment to see one’s local crime lords, collect glossy brochures detailing their good works and business activities, the latter somewhat euphemistically described. They contributed to charities, provided disaster relief, were featured in comic books and popular vid culture as folk heroes, and set a sterling example of how one could ‘go bad’ and still retain a certain flair.

Only the most egregious violations of decency and public order led to limited suppression, but only after attracting the disapproving notice of the populace and the embarrassed but temporary concern of the police. And to be perfectly fair to the Japanese, many great fortunes, and business enterprises all around the world, had similar origins, either through outright conquest, slaughter, and rapine, as in the Americas, in the slave or drug trades, as in much of Europe and the Americas, or both. The Yakuza, and other Japanese exploiters of both human societies and the natural world, had only the misfortune to be the creations of modern times. One could be proud of Thomas Jefferson, the great patriot and founder of democracy, the humanitarian idealist, because his real life was mostly shrouded by a conspiracy of convenient silence, so one could easily overlook Jefferson the slave-trader and rapist.

Against an enemy like that, she didn’t know what she could do without help from government authorities, although she resolved to investigate the possibilities and started making calls to all the parties whose interests she’d identified, paying particular attention to those who felt that they were getting a raw deal under the present system. She added several Japanese and Chinese newsfeeds to her subscription list, and the Japanese and Chinese languages to her search filters. She had a rough and ready familiarity with both, of course, but resolved to listen and read in them more regularly to improve her skills, as well as undertaking a formal course of study in both languages. Her father would be very pleased.

She also needed to talk to the orca/human Chimera up in Alaska. She had his name and particulars, and her ‘great grandmother’ undoubtedly knew that she intended to go visit, so she, at least, wouldn’t be surprised. Having no immediate use for her airship, since the show was over, she told its AI to go into surveillance mode above her parent’s home and minimize its use of power, returning to its garage only if the weather forecast made it dangerous to remain on station.

As the airship took off for home, she had a sudden thought and checked the manuals to ascertain the power draw for the vidscreen in various modes. If she allowed the screen to capture only a few narrow bands of light as power, it could still produce a useful picture and she could then use most of the filtered solar influx to help drive the display during daylight hours. It would decrease station-keeping time, but she could still count on a useful interval between base rechargings of several weeks, assuming that the weather remained fairly clement. By relaying a diffuse picture of the sky above the airship during the day to its vidscreen, modified by small but systematic variations in brightness to fool the human eye, she had all the ingredients of an effective camouflage which would make it fairly hard to detect, other than its engine nacelles, mooring fixtures, and miscellaneous hardware, all of which were a relatively inconspicuous silvery gray.

She’d have to arrange a test with Leana to judge between the effectiveness of the airship’s vidscreen ‘invisibility’ and the seemingly ‘natural’ appearance of her bird simulacrum. Perhaps trading off between them, based on external conditions, would be a more effective strategy of concealment. She’d have to check the requirements for displaying her navigation lights as well. She’d hate to have her mobiles grounded for a trivial violation of Canadian air navigation rules. She’d ask Olive separately if the exigencies of defending against the clear threats to herself and her family might justify an exception to the regular rules, if there were any problem. The AI could be told to display its lights if another aircraft approached closely enough to be a danger, and could avoid any encounter other than a deliberate attempt to ram it or shoot it down with relative ease.

Now that she thought of it, she programmed her home computer to listen to all the local audio inputs around the house and bluff, and created a set of AI-like objects whose task it was to identify anything that sounded like a gunshot and coördinate with its fellow objects to locate the origin of the sound based on time of arrival at each listening point, compensating for wind speed and direction, as well as the ambient air temperature. She set the resulting cloud of objects to notify her own BioLync directly, rather than the police, since she wanted to retain control over the process in case any bugs showed up in operation. She quickly tested it by altering the restraints on the noise filters and then caused the airship to emit a very loud subsonic pulse. To her satisfaction, her new network of listening posts identified the location of the airship within two meters of its internal position according to its own navigation system, and she set that up as a separate calibration routine, so she could periodically verify the accuracy of her ranging algorithms by actual experiment.

She thought she could improve on the accuracy of the system over time, through having a small weather station installed to collect local wind and temperature data, adding more microphones, and a little bit of fine tuning, but two meters was plenty good enough as a first approximation.

She continued, after a short pause to let the implications percolate through everyone’s thoughts. “This is quite likely to impact human relationships as well. Most of us live in close contact with our fellow humans, so whose genetic material is likely to be drifting in the wind when the underlying susceptibility to the chimeric syndrome reaches the critical point that brings on full transition? Such a human/human transition could easily go undetected, or be ignored as a bad case of the flu. The corporeal adaptations required to survive that sort of intraspecies chimerism are probably much less likely to cause the unconsciousness and severe depletion of the body’s resources that characterize chimerism incorporating genetic material from very different creatures. What will it mean when people discover that their friends and neighbors might also be cousins? Will the laws of inheritance have to be rewritten to include such relations? Or should they be excluded? This issue alone is a nasty can of worms that will require whole new legal frameworks to handle them. The current surrogacy laws might be a guide, but there will be issues of sentiment as well as equity to handle, since no contracts will be involved and the innocent results of genetic accidents will have to be protected, just as we now protect the rights of children born to extramarital relationships or rape.

“Speaking of which,” she added, “has anyone thought about the fact that genetic testing of all sorts is now in doubt? I once had a Y chromosome from my father, but where is it now? Does the ghost of it live on as a legal fiction, even though no current genetic test can demonstrate its past existence other than through stored samples? Is genetic evidence left at a crime scene reliable, when it could have literally come from anywhere and anyone on Earth? When people’s genetic markers can change overnight, more or less, what does genetic evidence mean, other than as a scientific guess?”

She went on, “Dad said that the Purists all had many of the symptoms of Chimerism, and that it was hybrid vigor that was keeping us all alive, but he focused, as do most of us, on the supposed ‘animal’ genetic material that gives us our own distinctive features. But the same argument holds true for almost every living creature on Earth today. It’s full-blown Chimerism, probably at least some of it incorporating human genetic material, that keeps every living mammal alive in this changing world. That was what I felt, back there at the so-called Orca Circus, a stunning and unexpected unity with all Chimeræ. But my experience was initiated by a mental brush with the orcas, although I didn’t fully recognize it at the time. I now realize that it wasn’t just ‘human’ Chimeræ I was connected to, but all of life, the entire biosphere. That’s why the experience was powerful enough to affect all those with the mental ability to hear in the immediate area. I’m guessing that if Nakia used her official authority to investigate, she’d find that many of the Chimeræ in the arena, perhaps the entire park, had a ‘strange’ experience that day, which some probably thought of as religious fervor, or a satori experience, or perhaps dyspepsia, and haven’t yet realized what it really was because they weren’t sitting right next to me.”

“That’s it!” Leana cried out. “That’s exactly what it was like; as if a vast reservoir of power had opened up and was pouring itself into me, filling me with more of something wonderful than I had ever experienced before. I know it increased my range and power; I can do things now I never could before that day, even helping to heal you and maintain your metabolism when you fainted and later as you were transported to the emergency room. I’d never had such tremendous surety and skill before, but there it was, just when you needed it.”

Nakia added, “I felt something much the same, although I hadn’t figured it out in quite such an elegant manner. My job entails telepathy, and I was pretty darned good at it, but now I’m better than anyone in my department. My star is on the ascendent at the Agency, which I knew was somehow connected to your… apotheosis? But I had no rational explanation, which was driving me completely crazy. I’ve talked to your Mr. Jefferson several times about this, and I know he feels much the same, changed somehow, for the better, but damned if either of us knew why. Your explanation makes as much sense as any, and much better than anything I’ve come up with so far.”

“It’s beginning to sound like I’ve stumbled into the secret meeting of the priestesses of a mystic nature cult,” complained Edith. “Can we get back to ordinary reality? What are we supposed to do about intelligent whales?”

Sa’aan had a ready suggestion. “Well, the first step, I think, is to have you and Nakia issue some joint findings, and issue departmental rulings that, in anticipation of court and legislative actions, the orcas of the Strait of Georgia, and elsewhere along our two nation’s coasts, are both intelligent and citizens of Canada and the RSA respectively. That gets one problem out of the way without biting off more than we can handle at one sitting, at least for the orcas of the Northern hemisphere. Then you, Edith, need to quickly convene some sort of committee to study and act upon the specific issues involved for Canada, while Nakia does the same back in the RSA, coördinating as much as possible and initiating contacts with any countries with sympathetic administrations.”

“On what grounds?” Edith persisted. “I have to be able to justify this highhanded proclamation, although I agree that, with sufficient documentation, I probably have the power.”

“You do, actually,” Sa’aan said. “I looked it up. My embassy of thirteen orcas and I are on our way to furnish incontrovertible proof, in the form of an official delegation to His Majesty’s Government in Canada by a First Nations Chief recently discovered in hiding from the world.”

Edith swore, realizing what Sa’aan had set in motion, “Oh, Christ! You’ve done us all good and proper now.”

“I have,” Sa’aan said smugly. “I’ve been thinking about this for several hours, which is a very long time in my new reality. There’s an entire body of tested Canadian law dealing with First Nations bands, and, in combination with the relevant portions of the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms regarding Chimeræ, most of the interested parties have extremely strong motives to come to quick agreement. I’ve already contacted the elders of the Haida and Tlingit First Nations, and they’re eager to see their ancient traditions affirmed and embodied in law, and the heads of the Maritime Fishermen’s Union of Canada and the Western Fishboat Owners Association have signed on to our program, which preserves the salmon fishery in particular and enforces mandatory steps to eliminate agricultural runoff and any other pollution originating from non-sustainable practices. Our demands include the removal of any remaining dams which impede major spawning runs within twenty years. We figure on compromising on forty years, more or less, but don’t tell anyone. Let them argue. The Organic Farms Associations of British Columbia, Washington, Oregon, and Northern California have signed on as well, once we pointed out that any added costs would impact everyone equally, and they would be well-placed to capitalize on the introduction of universal organic practices. They should actually see a short-term rise in prices, until the remaining non-organic farmers fall in line, and the long cycle of fallow fields required for organic certification will probably be subsidized by the government as a whole, since the entire country will be going organic.”

Edith exploded, “I can’t do that! They’ll have my head on a platter! Think of the disruption in people’s lives and livelihoods!”

“Actually, you can, and must. Think of the alternative. The Canadian government takes a strong stand against the aboriginal rights of ‘animals,’ however intelligent these ‘animals’ appear to be. The Purists take up the cause enthusiastically, campaigning for the sequestration and denial of civil rights for the ‘enemies of humanity,’ the ‘animals.’ and their sympathizers. Guess who’s rounded up and shipped off to the detention camps first? The handiest targets, the ‘so-called human’ Chimeræ. If you explain this carefully, your government, at least those portions of it heavily populated by Chimeræ, will fall all over themselves to welcome the orcas to the Great Brotherhood of Man, or whatever silly name the politicians will invent, make touching speeches about their own long admiration of the whales, and rush to attend the ribbon cutting ceremonies as they lay the foundation stone of the first Orcan Embassy to Canada on the Toronto waterfront. The RSA will be doing the same, I think, and I believe Mexico will be very eager to agree as a gesture of solidarity with their North American Allies, who form the majority of their market for solar power and brokerage clients for carbon sequestration credits. Many parts of the rest of the world will follow the same logical chain to the same conclusion, in my opinion. So we don’t have to do everything at once, nor twist too many arms. I fondly hope that many, perhaps most people in authority will act out of a genuine desire to do the right thing, especially when the fact that they’ve probably been eating people really sinks in. We can go on from there with a little more flexibility, gradually bringing the religious Caliphates and other Purist hard-liners into step with the rest of the world with a little friendly persuasion. The release of the genetic information casting doubt on the stability of the true line of succession from Mohammed will probably take a bit of the wind out of their sails, since it might just as easily turn out that the current Caliph of Bagdad is actually descended from Mrs. Mandelbrot from Brooklyn and will have to change the color of his turban. And even our local Purists will be nonplused by the notion that the purity of their genetic tree may have been sullied with random ‘matings’ from among the general population.”

Edith sputtered, “But… But….”

Then she thought through her requirements again, and created another set of objects to listen to the same inputs for sounds that might indicate intentional movements, especially stealthy ones, feeding everything into a similar ranging and location detector. She made a mental note to ask her father to arrange for a deep carpet of gravel to be installed around the house, to furnish better inputs for her sensors, and perhaps to scatter more sensors wherever coverage was weak. She herself could purchase a small coterie of yardbots to keep the gravel free of leaves and other debris that might diminish its effectiveness. She had ample funds, due to the settlement money from AquaWorld, but didn’t need much at all of it for her own use, other than payments for net access and external storage. She supposed that she’d eventually have to maintain her various mobiles, but these small future expenditures would hardly put a ding in the sum, and by the time she needed more money, the patent rights on her genetic material would begin to collect more money, so it was unlikely that she’d ever be short of ready cash.

That sparked another idea, and she looked through the catalogs for a smallish animal simulacrum with audio inputs, finding several which might fit the bill, one that looked like an ordinary wood rat with onboard AI — complete with exposure avoidance behaviors — and solar power. It was typically used in long-term œcological studies and had excellent stereo video cameras and mics, close-coupled monocular infrared and ultraviolet cameras which made its ‘eyes’ look a trifle odd, as well as integrated GPS, temperature, barometric, and humidity inputs. It needed only daily exposure to an hour or so of sunlight to stay on patrol for months at a time with a top speed of five kilometers per hour. She quickly ordered a gross of them, chuckling at the coïncidental term of venery, and a dozen yardbots as well, arranging for them to be delivered directly to Leana for coördinating their release into the surrounding woods.

Her surveillance objects would detect their presence automatically, when they announced themselves on activation, set their geographic limits, and incorporate them into her network of observation posts. She modified her surveillance objects, which were quickly becoming complex enough to be termed virtual bots, to incorporate the new capabilities of her ‘rats,’ which allowed her to include visual motion sensing and surveillance recording in their repertoire of inputs. She also ordered a few petabytes of external storage from a secure provider to allow her to maintain an archive of observations for future analysis.

Then she thought of monitoring nearby transmissions, so she ordered a bank of scanners, three electronically steerable phase shift antennas with integral spiral phase detection antennas and constant phase reference antennas suitable for determining azimuth and bearing, and an external solar array to power the lot, arranging to tie the scanners into her network when they arrived. She made some other calls as well, sounding out potential participants in her primary plan of action, to see what sort of support she could drum up.

By this time, she was putting a noticeable ding into her settlement money, but one can’t spend anything if one is dead, and she was quite literally independent of almost everything that civilization could provide in terms of the necessities of life. Her family was beyond value in any case, and she could always replace money. If her brains failed her, she could even turn treasure hunter and salvager, since she was uniquely advantaged if it came down to finding wrecks for salvage. A quick check of a commercial indexing and database service showed her that there were still billions in precious metals, gems, and historical artifacts littering the sea floor around the world. She could probably arrange for pocket money without much effort, since the orcas seemed to remember most of what had gone on in their immediate neighborhoods going back hundreds, if not thousands, or years. She’d just have to figure out who and how to ask.

Her legal position would eventually be an advantage as well, assuming that Chimeræ in general weathered this latest storm in good order, since she already had a plan to subsidize one or more cetacean governments by extracting monetary penalties for ruination of the marine environment, systematic murder of maritime citizens, and other crimes against the natural world. The cetaceans themselves might be stoic and above such things, but they’d need sovereign legal status to survive in the long term, and with them the natural world. They might puzzle over the means, but she thought that she could convince them by showing how ‘human’ legalisms would help establish a stable marine œcology they’d all approve of.

She had a backup plan, just in case, that involved more personal risk to herself, but she thought that she could probably get away with it. It was just the hint of a scheme at the back of her brain, and she hoped that she wouldn’t have to develop it further, but the idea was there if the nations of the world preferred not to listen to the voice of calm and dispassionate reason.

She told her ‘great grandmother’ roughly what she had planned with her human friends when they arrived at her pool, and the old lady seemed both encouraging and amused. She liked learning new things, it seemed, and Sa’aan’s plan looked to be a doozy. She was especially pleased when the matriarch pointed out a potential flaw in the plan, since it didn’t fully take into account the impact of global warming on the arctic regions which were being overloaded with diatomaceous phytoplankton as the ice melted in the summer daylight, releasing fresh water which tended to float on the surface, and moisture which rained on it, creating a stratified water column that inhibited the more productive Phæocystis antarctica and allowed the relatively less efficient diatoms to proliferate across ever-greater expanses of open ocean, decreasing the overall uptake of carbon dioxide. This, in turn, accelerated the warming as less CO₂ was sequestered by biological means, which accelerated melting, and on and on. As far as Sa’aan could figure out, this region of the carbon cycle was out of any possible control, and the only intervention possible was to ensure that more rigorous actions were taken to prevent iron, nitrogen, phosphorus, and other nutrients from entering the temperate and tropical oceans, to ameliorate the eutrophication cycle she already knew about, which was also interfering with CO₂ sequestration. This was going to take a while. But then she already knew that.

All she had to do was look around her to see the goad that made maximum effort and all possible speed worthwhile; the waters still rising, year by year, the vegetation on the bluff and surrounding mountains running toward live oaks, manzanitas, madrones, and palms rather than the cold-adapted red cedars, firs, and Sitka spruces that had been ubiquitous even a hundred years before. In a warmer, drier climate, the denizens of the old forest were at a relative disadvantage, and more drought-tolerant species were expanding their territory.

They were getting closer, but the orcas were evidently feeling a little peckish, because they were ranging widely from their course, and Sa’aan could see that their stomachs were empty. She wouldn’t mind a little nosh either, so she took the airship out of surveillance mode temporarily and sent it up to its mandated ceiling to take a look around.

She saw a large flock of seagulls quite near the headland, about a mile or so ahead of where she and the orcas were searching, and zoomed in one of her cameras to take a closer look. The gulls appeared to be picking off unwary strays from a shoal of herring, which were being preyed upon by mackerel from below, in the tide race just off the bluff where her parent’s home was located. She told the AI to resume its new default surveillance task. Just the ticket, she thought, and right on the way.

She told the matriarch what lay ahead, as well the shoal’s range and direction, and was rewarded by a caress and a few quiet supersonic orders squealed to the pod as they formed a loose semicircle and put on a little deliberate speed toward Sa’aan’s discovery.

It wasn’t too long before the sounds of the fish themselves, both hunter and hunted, could be heard distinctly ahead. The orcas put on a little more speed, while remaining as quiet as possible, and two of the group took up positions slightly ahead of and centered within the horns of the larger curve of whales.

Suddenly, silently, the two at the forward center dove deep while those at the flanks surged forward, circling around the main body of the shoal.

With a flurry of activity and purposeful chatter, the orcas struck, the two rising quickly from below and the rest converging like a living net to trap the bulk of the shoal as the mackerel and herrings alike panicked and lost whatever cohesion they’d had, darting back and forth in fishy confusion. Sa’aan had three huge mouthfuls of fish medley before the fish dispersed to the point that they weren’t worth chasing, and she noticed that several of the others had done much better, stomachs comfortably full and pleasantly cheerful after their meal.

She noticed that one of the younger males was gulping seawater, and Sa’aan could see that his stomach was actually distended to the point of discomfort, until the salty water made him vomit and he disgorged his greedy meal and swam off, irritated and again hungry after his youthful mistake.

Sa’aan was suddenly grateful for her relative lack of skill, after seeing what too much success could do.

With a strange impulse of something like compassion, but much more than that, which startled her with its intensity, she used the airship again to look for another shoal, and found one not too far away, a little to the northeast of her pool, toward Vancouver Harbor. Above her, the seagulls were in a perfect frenzy, churning the surface of the water with their feet and flapping wings, picking up both torn tidbits of the fish that almost got away and the remnants of the youngster’s interrupted meal. She let the two slightly older males, the same ones she and Leana had met on their picnic, know about the other shoal, and they and the youngster swam off to find more fish fairly happily.

She was surprised to discover such a strong current of what seemed like maternal concern within herself, directed toward an orca who wasn’t too much younger than she was. She felt a glow of warmth as she saw that he would likely have a nice little nosh despite his boyish greed, and wondered what else was happening in her brain. She’d have to ask Leana about this, as this was a strange sort of feeling, one she’d never experienced before. In her previous life, she’d lived on an intellectual plane almost exclusively, although she’d liked jokes and puns, but was impatient with what she’d thought of then as ‘maudlin sentimentality.’ Yet now….

She shook herself and tried to concentrate on the problems yet before her, but not before she saw the matriarch, her great grandmother, looking at her with what she imagined, recognized, was fond affection.

Curiouser and curiouser, she thought. Orcas aren’t designed to display facial expressions, yet I’ve just seen one. There wasn’t any objective evidence of it, no crinkled eyes, no smile, not even a wink, but there it was, shown by some invisible movement or imperceptible alteration in tension of the muscles around the one eye that I can see so subtle that it defied my conscious perception, yet was as eloquent as the stylized gesture of a Noh performer and as plain as day.

Sa’aan was, moreover, becoming accustomed to the orca way of looking at the world as a web, and more familiar with the conventions of the orca language. The intricate sounds almost directly mirrored orca thought, so that the overall effect was less like the discrete sentences of human speech and more like a symphony, less like listening to a single voice and more like listening to a full orchestra. Traditional linguistics addressed morphology and syntax, teasing out individual parts of speech that repeated themselves again and again, but orca speech was so complex that each utterance was utterly unique, influenced by the exact situation and even the personality and artistic skill of the speaker.

A single phrase might include a hundred, a thousand, sonic patterns and textures, the interplay of the sounds of the individual themes all contributing to the harmonious entirety. This was how complex interrelationships could be embedded in a ‘simple’ description, serving as a mental shorthand that allowed her to test ideas and emerging patterns with great speed as she internalized the language as a ‘native speaker.’ So the aria which referred to salmon was informed by the faint leitmotifs of all the organisms with relationships to them, and other patterns which might identify portions of the physical environment and the obligations of community.

As her skill in using and thinking in the orca speech increased, she’d already begun to prefer it over her native language, since it made reasoning so much easier and quicker. She experimented by telling herself the story of the jugglers she’d seen at AquaWorld and found that the complex and ever-changing patterns which had taken her moments to discern were inherent in the simple story. She could also easily see the variations that could be incorporated into the juggler’s routine and still achieve a theatrical effect. Hey! she said to herself. I could probably have a great career as a choreographer or civil engineer, since understanding the interplay of strengths, forces, and movement was an important part of either profession.

Let’s see, what else could I do? She thought about human society, and decided to tell herself a story. She recounted the recent history of the world, incorporating everything she’d learned in civics and history, which was surprisingly compact when compressed to orca ideographs, and began to see the larger patterns which described the present situation as a limit.

One of the pervasive forces which had formed the basis of Western civilization since the Renaissance was the formation of private stock companies, culminating around the 1600’s with the British East India Company and others which transformed the society of the times in ways which extended into the present day. These companies had their antecedents in the bands of armed conquistadores who exploited the Americas, post-Columbus, and the European invaders of Africa, even the fierce nomads of the central Asian steppes who’d plundered China and Europe in ages past. All these bands of ‘adventurers’ had no obligations other than to pay a portion of any loot they managed to wrest from the victims of their predations to a sovereign or other provider of initial capital.

The descendants of these early barbarian hordes and quasi-civilized stock companies were the corporations and limited liability companies of the last millennium, all united in the premise that the world owed them a living, and that they were free to exploit a resource without ever having to share it, or pay the true costs of consuming it. The militaries of many nations were extensions of this idea, quite often working in concert with private companies to efficiently exploit a given resource and fend off potential competitors.

Sa’aan’s mother cut her off, “I quite agree. I think it’s perfectly obvious that, if intelligent, the resident orca population of the Strait are presumptive Canadian citizens, no matter what happens, having been born in Canadian waters. The fact that this hasn’t yet been recognized by the present government is just an unfortunate oversight to be remedied as soon as possible, as a matter of equity and justice. And the existence of at least one resident orca with orca/human Chimerism both complicates and simplifies things, making it imperative that we present a united front. Sa’aan’s legal theory, that the orcas are, in fact, First Nations Bands, has the great advantage that it’s very difficult, perhaps impossible, to refute, especially since Sa’aan has cleverly lined up the support of the First Nations peoples most directly affected, and it would arouse the collective ire of many indigenous peoples all around the world if Canada chooses to quarrel with the claim.”

Her father picked up on the idea immediately, “Not only that but, as aboriginals, some accommodations will have to be made for their pre-existing aboriginal claim on the entirety of the inland and offshore waters, which is going to ruffle feathers all around, since it requires a major redivision of a pie sliced up long ago, not to mention reparations for the murders and enslavements. But the compensation sums involved are enormous, and the orcas could easily take their case to the World Court and probably wind up owning the entirety of both our countries. I think, given a moment for mature reflection, that the Canadian government and the RSA will be very receptive to the sort of orderly settlement that Sa’aan seems to be offering. Even though that’s probably a matter for the legislatures of affected countries more than it’s our own immediate problem, we also have to recognize the fact that making this accommodation public immediately will probably lessen the threat to all our lives as well, since even the Purists and the gangs would think twice before taking on the tribes. They might be able to get away with hate speech against us on religious grounds, or criminal activity confined to their own borders, but acting to discriminate or plot against a sovereign nation, specially one which controls three quarters of the world’s surface, is another kettle of fish. Secrecy works against us, so we have to come out in the open. You can’t manhandle a cat once it’s out of the bag.”

Sa’aan could just imagine the outraged looks her mother and Leana were giving her father right now, “True. That’s part of my reason for doing something very public immediately. I don’t like sitting around waiting for the next assassin to come up with a plan more clever than they’ve implemented so far. Although, to be fair, they probably haven’t yet realized just who they’re dealing with.”

Leana asked, “Do you think the orcas are going to make a stink about the orcas held in captivity? Or the deaths that have occurred in capturing them for ‘scientific’ purposes?”

Sa’aan answered, “I don’t think that’s going to be a serious problem, since the orcas are extremely stoic. They’re philosophical about death in a way that Marcus Aurelius would understand perfectly, and are quite aware of their responsibility to act in such a way as to maintain the total ecosystem, including humans. The concept of ‘ownership’ is quite foreign to them so I’m foisting it upon them by proxy, since we have ample evidence of what happens when an indigenous tribe with lands held in common runs up against another armed with land titles, deeds, and fences. It’s the reciprocal obligations of ‘community’ which seem central to their worldview. So they’ll fully expect that any final arrangement will ensure that fishermen, for example, including the tribal treaty fisheries, have a ‘fair share’ of the salmon, mackerel, and herring, as long as there are enough left over for everyone, including the bears and the forests. The fishermen know that they won’t get a free ride with this new regime, but they’ll have an incontrovertible place at the table. They’ll have to observe limits on their total catch, but I think most of them are fair-minded and willing to compromise as long as the deck isn’t stacked against them, as it has been in the past. The only problems I can see, which I partially addressed here, are with some of the farmers and manufacturers who still use rivers as dumps that they don’t have to pay for, and with those localities and nations who haven’t yet controlled their polluting activities, or who destructively exploit ocean or river resources to the serious detriment of the local or global œcologies. Once the orca’s rights are recognized, we may well feel compelled to assert our legitimate concerns in an egalitarian manner, but we can defer that for now. We may petition the World Court for a preemptive ruling, but my planning hasn’t gotten that far ahead yet. I’m trying for no more than three hurdles at a time and I’m going to need a lawyer or two specializing in international law before too very long.”

“Don’t forget the people who still murder whales,” Leana chimed in.

Sa’aan took this up immediately, “Believe me, I’m not. That will have to stop immediately, and I think Mexico and a few other tropical nations can extend their own citizenship to many whale communities worldwide, because of their customary birthing lagoons and other waters, at least until their status as members of a sovereign nation is fully established. Mexico is pretty careful of their territorial waters, and has benefited greatly through increased agriculture as the central portions of the RSA have gone back to desert, and through carbon sequestration projects powered by cheap tropical solar power farms, so I think they’d be glad to coöperate with any joint efforts. Whale tourism is still a major draw on their Pacific coast. If not, Canada can possibly extend refugee status to any whale facing persecution or danger on the open sea, and the RSA can do the same in the Atlantic, and both can get involved in every ongoing whale hunt on humanitarian grounds. I suspect Venezuela and Bolivia would be interested as well, and several others among the progressive South American nations. Maybe Australia and New Zealand, and possibly the Antarctic Federation. Antarctica, especially, is heavily dependent on sea transport for bulk cargo, and we can easily interdict such cargos if they prove to be obstreperous.”

“Interdict?” her father queried.

Sa’aan brushed off the question, “We won’t dwell on that, just now, but sovereignty implies certain rights under the customary rules of nations, and people are often more willing to negotiate with a powerful partner.”

She went on, “But the whales may not be as upset about whales being killed as a human might be. Whales, at least orcas, expect to be eaten eventually, since they see the œcology of the oceans as inherently circular, with the life of each future generation ‘purchased,’ as it were, by the death of all the generations in the past. In human terms, they’re either extremely fatalistic, or nobly self-sacrificing, depending on our own cultural expectations. They might not fully realize that many species of whales, including some orca populations, are endangered and may still go extinct. I think they’d be more worried about a major loss to the ecosystem than they would be about any one individual, or even hundreds of individuals. But it’s a good bargaining point in any eventuality, since they probably won’t be arguing their own case, and it has to stop. If it doesn’t, we all die.”

There was a long silence, in which no one seemed inclined to speak the next words.

“Well,” Edith finally observed, “you seem to have thought of everything. It looks like we have our work cut out for us, eh?”

Sa’aan hastened to let her know that she wasn’t quite finished, “I haven’t gotten to the best part yet. I believe, without proof, that the Japanese are well aware that cetacean/human Chimeræ exist, since they’ve been killing whales ever since Chimerism first surfaced and performing their pseudo-scientific analyses of the corpses. It’s impossible that they haven’t noticed the genetic anomalies, and aren’t already aware of the implications if they ever got caught in an ongoing conspiracy of murder and thuggery to preserve their right to cannibalize intelligent beings, the various cetaceans who are undoubtedly as ‘human’ as any of them. I believe that they, or some criminal organization like the so-called yakuza with direct knowledge of their culpability, are behind the attacks on my family and myself.”

Edith exclaimed, “Oh, sweet Christ! That would explain our difficulties, even with search warrants, in extracting the identity of the people behind the recent attacks from your assailants’ brains. If these attempted ‘hits’ were arranged by that sort of criminal gang, they’d be perfectly capable of maintaining multiple ‘firewalls’ between themselves and their tools.”

“Indeed,” Sa’aan observed dryly, “but if they are motivated by the desire to prevent embarrassment for the industries they’re shaking down for protection money, making this announcement will go a long way toward making the embarrassment real. Corporate heads will roll, and possibly fingers will be chopped off, maybe even a war of rivals until things settle down, but the Japanese whaling fleet won’t be paying any more extortion money to anyone, because there won’t be one. I can guarantee that without hesitation.”

“How about the Icelanders and indigenous peoples of the North,” Leana queried.

“The Icelandic ‘indigenous hunt’ is largely a scam,” Sa’aan observed, “since they sell most of the meat to the Japanese gourmet market, and the same with the Norwegians and coastal communities of Japan and Southeast Asia. For the most part, they aren’t actually eating what they catch, but hand it over to third parties in the commercial marketplace. For all I know, at least some of their ultimate consumers may be aware of the human ‘long pig’ entwined with their whale flesh. It might add a little frisson of abomination to a hearty meal. Perhaps coördinated sampling of the markets by third parties could catch them at it but it doesn’t matter, even in the short run, because it’s going to stop.”

Edith asked, “How is that going to fit in with treaty whaling by true aboriginals?”

“Eventually we’ll arrange the rules to allow for true indigenous whaling practices,” Sa’aan answered, but then added, “in hand-paddled canoes or kayaks with simple, non-explosive harpoons and a real risk of death for the human hunters. The whales seem to accept the necessity of culling the weaker and less vigilant members of their own community, and aren’t at all averse to a sporting chance between equals, since they’ll see it a good opportunity to similarly cull the weaker and less fit humans. But I seriously doubt that there will be many human takers at those odds, since humans, for the most part, are no longer driven by hunger and grim necessity to take dangerous chances in hopes of a meal. Most of the Arctic peoples are living pretty civilized lives nowadays, and community survival no longer depends on a supply of frozen whale blubber, however maudlin they wax about their sacred ancestral practices.” Sa’aan made a rude noise. “They need mechanical refrigeration and freezers to keep meat frozen these days, at least in summer. And a legal catch of whales implies a legal catch of humans, so I think most tribes and indigenous peoples will choose to walk away from their treaty rights. Which would be just as well, because the orcas tell me that humans are notoriously stringy and tasteless. Their meat would probably go to waste unless we sold it to the petfood manufacturers, but I’m pretty sure that floating that idea would scuttle most plans for noble contests between man and whale. It kind of diminishes the heroism if your body is sold as dogfood if you lose.”

Nakia clucked her tongue in disapproval, but then commented, “So existing treaties remain essentially untouched, but contain an obvious poison pill?”

“Yes,” Sa’aan said forcefully, “Except there will be no more so-called ‘scientific’ commercial whaling, and anything involving expeditions beyond a few miles from their own shorelines, or organized mass slaughter in bays and inlets which are the traditional feeding grounds of cetacean populations. Other than that, the indigenous peoples will be free to choose what sort of regime they choose to live under, one in which they fully respect the rights of whales, or one in which any group member caught near or on the sea is fair game.”

Edith objected, “But that’s equivalent to a declaration of war. You can’t just take a high-handed attitude like that and expect to get away with it!”

Sa’aan said angrily, biting off her words with precision, “We can and will. I for one won’t stand by and allow one more whale to be murdered for ‘old times’ sake,’ or faux ‘economic necessity,’ or simple greed. Anyone caught at it will pay a very heavy price, either in court or in person. But you can spin that fact in rosy terms if you like. The same poison pill extends to every Chimera, since any action against us will eventually spill over into civil war between the Purists and the hybrid world.” She was furious with the lot of them! Stupid grownups!

Seen from the orca perspective, which encompassed the entirety of an ecosystem, the fiction of limited liability was inherently destructive, since it encouraged a reckless and short-sighted approach to every action, as if a pod of orcas could eat all the salmon and expect there to still be salmon, or something else to eat, in years to come; as if the survival of the forests and the bears weren’t essential to the survival of the orcas themselves. Limited liability companies were always tempted to assume that there would always be another opportunity to exploit another resource, even if the first was utterly destroyed, because profits, in monetary form, were utterly fungible.

Externalizing costs was much harder now than it was in the days before Chimerism made its appearance on the world stage, since most of the industrialized nations had either outlawed the existence of limited liability businesses entirely, forcing them to fully internalize many of the environmental and social costs of doing business in the same series of legislative acts and treaties which had made excessive atmospheric pollution a crime against humanity, extending financial and criminal responsibility for any actions which harmed society as a whole to all those who profited from them, especially stockholders, but also those with a financial interest in the company, even if they had no direct relationship to the offender other than that of supplier, creditor, customer, employee, or ordinary citizen if the net worth of the stockholders and officers themselves didn’t cover either damages or losses. The general rule was, ‘follow the money’ when allocating responsibility, but the law generally sought out major players, those with the clearest ability to demand responsible behavior and investigate potential infractions, before minor ones. One didn’t incur much responsibility for the destruction of rainforests by buying a pack of chewing gum, but if one sold the tools, in the form of the bulldozers and financing that enabled it, or trafficked wholesale in the goods that made it profitable, one could easily be targeted for the entirety of one’s gross income, and if that wasn’t sufficient, the entirety of one’s wealth.

In extreme cases, the entire population of a given country could be held jointly liable for actions permitted by the government of that country, on the legal theory that all had benefitted, at least to some extent, through the operations of companies which had caused so much damage to the global commons as to be beyond the ability of every individual or organization directly involved.

This approach was buttressed by the language in most articles of incorporation, or by the language of the laws under which they were permitted to exist, that the ultimate guarantor of every corporation was the government which sponsored them. So states like Delaware, which had profited by providing safe haven to many thousands of corporations, and offered lax oversight and control of their operations, were bankrupted when liability began to be enforced internationally, as the only regimes still offering limited amnesty for corporate bad actors were a few of the harshest dictatorships, which tended to reward egregious violations of global good citizenship with torture and death for those involved, if they were caught at it, and extracted their own special taxes in the form of bribes.

This had the salubrious effect of ensuring that almost everyone who had even casual contact with a business would rat them out in a heartbeat if anything untoward were observed or discovered, since the longer damages went undetected the more potential existed for creditors or government agencies to go after the bystanders who let it happen. It also made ordinary corruption very hazardous for both parties, since either party could be held liable not only for the amount of a bribe or other consideration, but any untoward result which came to light downstream. Warrants for telepathic searches of participants’ minds had made keeping such secrets very difficult indeed, at least without placing a bullet in each and every brain with any knowledge of the scheme.

It had abruptly put a lot of enterprises out of business, and bankrupted officers, stockholders, and creditors in the process, as one company after another had been held to account for their products and actions.

The first to fall had been the arms industries, who’d discovered that it was a lot more expensive to clean up landmines, cluster bombs, and depleted uranium laying about on the ground, or under it, than it had been to put it there. The government agencies involved had also been dunned by the World Court, which had indirectly led to the uncontrolled disintegration of the old USA when the newly-internalized debts flowing from their military adventures in ‘third world’ countries had exceeded all possible revenues for more than a hundred and twenty years. China and Russia had been hard hit as well, although they had been better able — or more willing — to ‘work off’ a large portion of their debt by supplying large numbers of decontamination workers to affected locales, although it had the unintended side effect of restoring the reach of the old Soviet Union when its former constituents were tolled for their fair share of the damages caused in former years by their predecessor rulers. As bankrupts, these former satellites had drifted back into the Russian orbit, and a wave of religious fervor had propelled a distant relative of the Romanoffs back onto the Imperial throne.

That economic catastrophe had sounded the death knell for an entire class of economic activity — mostly businesses created or operated for the purpose of allowing speculators to strip value from a project and then walk away with the profits, leaving whatever debts, damages, and pollution the enterprise had caused for others to pay. The stakeholders in these sorts of enterprises had to fully disgorge not only their immediate profits, but their entire wealth, if they eventually had to make good on negative value to society as a whole, much like the Names of the original Lloyd’s of London, and improved ‘whistle-blower’ legislation had made the interlocking professions of forensic accountancy and telling tales immensely profitable for a while. It didn’t take too many trips to the financial woodshed as edifying examples to their peers before investors had learned their lesson; if a business didn’t make long-term sense, and actually do something positive in the world, it didn’t attract funding these days.

But there was still a glaring exception to the general rule of internalizing costs; the oceans were still regarded by many as handy sinks for waste products and free-for-all mines for resources. Farmers were still allowed to spill their agricultural runoff to pollute the rivers and seas; the sewage and other waste products of society were still dumped into the oceans; a fishing vessel could extract and kill a ton of fish for every hundred pounds it kept and sold, or destroy a fishing ground by dragging a heavy trawl net through it.

With rare exceptions, no one ever had to answer for any of these environmental crimes, as even a court judgment against a particular company might exhaust its assets and insurance without approaching the costs involved in fixing the damages caused by its negligent operations. It was the tragedy of the commons, as William Forster Lloyd had put it, echoing Aristotle in his commentary on Socrates’ Republic of Plato, Politics: ‘That which is common to the greatest number has the least care bestowed upon it. Every one thinks chiefly of his own interest and hardly at all of the common interest, and even that scant attention paid only when he is himself concerned as an individual.’

Sa’aan saw exactly how her plan would help to rectify this. If the cetaceans — who were able to keep a long view of benefit and detriment clearly in mind, informing their decisions and their very lives — could reasonably assert their ownership of the oceans as citizens of a sovereign nation, they could impose these falsely externalized costs upon their users, bringing marine industries into line with the almost universal business model of today’s world.

If there was an extraction cost to pay, in addition to operating costs, and potential damages for reckless destruction of hunting grounds, many wasteful or harmful practices, like trawling, long lines, and drift nets, would become uneconomical, leading to the rationalization of the market.

The same would hold true of dumping. If an entity dumping waste into the ocean were required to pay the true costs of the action, including pollution and widespread toxicity, it would strongly encourage recycling and greatly increase efforts to reduce unnecessary waste. A little jail time for criminal trespass and vandalism might help as well, if anyone had trouble adjusting to the new regime.

Nakia temporized, “We can work on the wording later, and I’m sure we can come up with language that’s adequately firm yet isn’t too terribly inflammatory. Let’s move on.”

Sa’aan continued, still entirely unrepentant about her pugnacious tone, “My thought is that we’ll initially assert our sovereignty as a First Nation in Canada and the RSA, but eventually extend our claim to the United Nations and the World Court, since we’ll soon be claiming the offshore waters of the entire world as our traditional home and legitimate territory. We might be persuaded, Edith and Nakia please take note, to let those countries which take an immediate firm stand in favor of our sovereign rights over our natural domain share in the administration and policing of it, for a suitable share of revenues of course. A compassionate farmer doesn’t muzzle the ox that treads out the corn. I think everyone will be pleasantly surprised at how well they’ll do participating in a regime under the supervision of those with an intrinsic regard for compromise and community.” She paused, waiting for someone to speak.

Nakia’s face worked between doubt and worry for a bit, but then settled into firm resolution, “I, for one, despite my own reservations about taking a confrontational stance at first, think it has the strong potential to do much more good than harm. Sentimental goodwill toward whales and marine mammals has always been very strong in the RSA and, I might add, in the coastal portions of all the western provinces of Canada, so it won’t be all that hard to sell. The possibility of restoring healthy fisheries all around the world is an added bonus, as far as I’m concerned, and I think that my superiors will agree. It will be a relief, quite frankly, to get the government out of the water business, where everyone hates us because their particular group can’t have it all.”

Then Edith concurred, saying, “That’s a point I hadn’t thought of, but the politicians here will probably feel much the same. Having someone to point their fingers at will take a lot of heat off them, though it may take some of the fine edge off that goodwill Nakia speaks of, but it sounds almost doable now that I’ve had a chance to think about it.”

Sa’aan’s father spoke up, having quietly come to a conclsion, “I don’t think it’s going to be quite the trouble you’re imagining, Edith. There’s already a strong constituency for organic food, a partially overlapping one for sustainable use of the oceans and the total elimination of ocean pollution. When you add up all the voters who are going to be ecstatic over this, very few politicians are going to take serious hits over supporting it. The large scale meat producers will be upset, but were probably going to fold eventually anyway. Their use of water is inherently inefficient, and the early closure or diminishment of a doomed industry will eliminate the need for many irrigated crops and make both urban water users and sustainable agriculture enthusiasts very happy. So many agricultural tasks and slaughtering are already performed by AI-mediated mechanicals that there won’t even be all that many people affected directly, or even put out of work, and the newly surplus acreage can eventually be banked as carbon sequestration forests or algæ farms, so there won’t be that much economic loss, in the long term, and may even constitute a net gain when we add up all the benefits.”

He continued, warming to his subject as if he were at the front of a crowded lecture hall, “The main problem, I think, will be those people who still like thick beefsteaks and roasts for supper, but a new boutique industry of certified natural, genetically-tested beef or bison will undoubtedly arise to make such meals possible, even if much more expensive and rare. As a special and expensive treat for notable occasions, meat-eaters will be eating much less of it, so the medical establishment and the animal rights partisans will be happy as well. Existing vegans and vegetarians — whose numbers are growing every day — will feel smugly justified; the Hindus, Jains, and Buddhists especially will see a tremendous rise in good karma, all around the world; and observant Jews will find the exigencies of kashruth vastly simplified. Many Jews believe that vegetarianism was Heaven’s plan from the beginning, altered only by the hardness of our hearts and divine compassion for our weakness. Even in Islam, which officially teaches that any food which complies with the laws of hallal is acceptable, vegetarianism has a long history. The Sayyadina Umar ibn al-Khattab — one of the first companions of the Prophet and the second Caliph of Islam — said, ‘Beware of meat; it has an addiction like the addiction of wine,’ and Muhammad is reported to have eaten meat very rarely, so there’s plenty of justification for a vegetarian or semi-vegetarian lifestyle in many of the world’s religions. For every downside, there’s a large upside built into Sa’aan’s current scheme, as I grasp it, although I’m sure she can refine it further with a little help from specialists.”

“And possibly you, Dad,” she observed. “You’ve already mentioned quite a few points I hadn’t thought of. Do you think, Nakia, or Edith, that it would be worth examining modern cattle genomes for any admixtures of pig? If present, even raising the possibility that one’s ‘beef steak’ might also be something of a ‘pork chop’ would dissuade both observant Jews and Muslims from eating what might be a forbidden food, even if they didn’t believe that partially human flesh might be present as well.”

“It seems worth a try,” Nakia admitted, “although I think the appeal to the Haida and other First Nations traditions will have broader appeal among those members of the general public not already persuaded by pre-existing religious or philosophical vegetarianism. This narrower lifestyle issue may have legs in particular communities where the others would not, though, so we’ll keep it in mind for whatever announcement we come up with together.”

Edith added, “We’ll have to actually run the genetic tests, though, before we say it. I expect we’ll find ‘bacon bits’ sprinkled among the herds, though, because it seems obvious now that the possibility has been raised. They’re often kept in fairly close proximity, as those areas suitable for animal husbandry usually have somewhat mixed economies. We’ve focused on chimerism originating in ‘humans’ for so long that, other than a few noticeable non-human animal hybrids, the ubiquity of the causal factors has gone almost unnoticed so we’ve never paid much attention.”

“We should also look at non-mammalian genomes, since the rarity of such hybrids may be due more to the lethality of the possible gene combinations than the difficulty of the actual transfer of genetic material,” Leana added.

Nakia murmured, “Good point. I’ll add that to my list of things to arrange funding for. You do realize, my dear Sa’aan, that this is all going to be hellishly expensive.”

Sa’aan’s mother answered for her, “Well, you know what Alexander Pope said: ‘Know then thyself, presume not God to scan; / The proper study of Mankind is Man.’ The quote seems particularly apropos because Pope continues: ‘He hangs between; in doubt to act, or rest, / In doubt to deem himself a God, or Beast.’ We’ve always known that we humans were somewhere in between, and Chimerism just made that all the more obvious, so we’re just now recapitulating his pithy observation that we’re the ‘glory, jest, and riddle of the world!’ So what’s new?”

Likewise, those entities on the land still using river or evaporation pond storage as an externalized commons could reap more than they’d bargained for, since anything that the rain fell upon eventually washed down to the sea, with a few rare exceptions like the endorheic basins which held the Dead and Salton Seas.

The initial costs of setting up an enforcement regime could be covered by early suits for damages in the World Court, once their aboriginal status has been affirmed, and she thought that most cases would settle early, since the potential liability was huge and an almost monolithic body of scientific evidence was available to prove her side of each case, since everyone knew about the damages, but had assumed that they would never have to pay for them, because it had been very hard to establish that anyone had any particular standing to sue, much less demonstrate quantifiable harm.

The whales, being indigenous residents of the oceans of the world, could both hold title and demonstrate specific harm from such actions, and their standing would withstand all challenges, since even humans didn’t need to demonstrate specific harm when someone dumped toxic waste in their back yard. ‘Exclusive economic zones’ were about to be disintegrated.

While she anticipated her meeting with her family, Nakia, and the others, she was also busy visualizing the likely strategy of many of her opponents. There would be an initial rush to settle by those with the clearest liability, she thought, in hopes of cutting a ‘good deal’ before she had sufficient funds to bear down hard. But she hoped to enter into agreements with several sovereign nations to take on the prosecutions and enforcement actions for a share of the settlements and fines, which ought to minimize the necessity of spending much of the cetacean’s own money until their purse grew large enough to weigh heavily on a global scale. Her own rough estimate was that they would wind up with the equivalent, after expenses, of ten to fifteen percent of gross world economic product initially, and around five to ten percent annually thereafter.

Even considering only the direct economic value of the oceans as a low-cost transportation highway, combined with direct economic exploitation for food, salt, and mineral resources, including a considerable proportion of the remaining productive petroleum fields, most of which were offshore, this seemed a very modest tax, but ample enough in total to make the cetaceans, both great and small, one of the world’s major economic powers.

For some reason, she found the idea of wealthy whales amusing.

She swam back to the side of her great grandmother, asking why nothing had been done by the whales before this, while the œcology of the entire world went wonky, and the answer she received puzzled her greatly. Her great grandmother was vastly amused that Sa’aan actually believed that nothing had been, or was being done.

“Daughter,” she said, “your name is your own to form, but this is who you might become.” She laid out Sa’aan’s possible place in the œcology of the world, the pivotal point at which she stood with Archimedes’ lever firmly grasped in her powerful teeth, and explained the long holding action the orcas had patiently maintained for many hundreds of years, waiting for an ancient plan to come to fruition and provide the opportunity to act, when Sa’aan had suddenly appeared on their very doorstep.

It was very difficult, she told her, to have an effect on a non-prey population, unless you spoke their language, which had proved impossible, despite many attempts. and then along came Sa’aan with the very tools needed to act upon the human world.

In the meantime, they had engaged in what might be termed public relations, making friends with some humans, acting in an innocuous and peaceful manner, at least as orcas understood the idea, but always biding their time until an opportunity for doing something more decisive presented itself.

Even the abduction of her other mother and the others had been more-or-less deliberate acts of self-sacrifice, since the orcas had long been aware of dolphin and orca exhibitions at amusement parks like AquaWorld through tales told by parolees and fleeing escapees, and had seen these places as valuable tools by means of which they could influence public opinion, creating fertile ground in which to plant more effective ideas once the means became available.

This information was truly mind boggling. The idea that her other mother had sacrificed her freedom for the sake of a long plan whose culmination she had no real hope of seeing humbled her, left her in awe of her other mother’s implacable will, and the notion that she herself was, or might be, the key player in this drama was frightening. One minute I’m packing for a nice vacation, the next a target for assassins and a figure named in prophesy. What more can life bring? Gevalt!

She tried to explain her reasoning concerning monetizing and internalizing the full maritime costs of every land-based activity, which would, in turn, allow the whales, the orcas, who also had an ‘ownership’ share in the marine environment, or their representatives, to control much behaviour, affect many relationships, and impact the land in much the same way they’d been been ‘pruning’ the marine environment. Her grandmother had told her that it was very difficult to have an effect on a non-prey population, but money was a subtle form of predation, one which allowed those who controlled large quantities of it to affect every species and population on Earth.

Just as strip mining the land had become almost instantly unprofitable when the companies had to factor in the costs of full restoration of the habitats, water purity, and animals displaced by wholesale dynamiting and bulldozing of surface ‘overburden’, the very name implying that the once-fertile soils and watersheds destroyed by mining were worthless impediments that could be discarded at will, treating the oceans as a cost-free sewage dump and supply locker would be impossible once the full costs of restoration and purification of the affected waters and marine environments were factored into the costs of every human activity.

To her surprise, she grasped the concepts involved instantly, and quickly extracted from her as much as she understood about stock companies, the financial marketplace, the banking system, the rôle of government in regulation — another form of predation, she now realized, and therefore a legitimate tool for top predators — and quickly came to the end of what she actually knew, so she had to supplement direct knowledge with information available on the net, so in final stages of their conversation she was acting more like a reference librarian than a mentor, as her grandmother did her best to assimilate the equivalent of a degree in economics in the space of a few minutes. It helped that she was far more clever and experienced than Sa’aan herself, and could extrapolate lofty towers of theory from a few bricks of fact so quickly that it seemed like magic, and had worked her way through Keynes, Lucas, Hayek, and the Chicago School in the space of a few moments, dismissing them all as childish amateurs almost as quickly, especially amused by their naive presumption that they stood aside from the economic world, and the hubris involved in imagining that the economic world would not quickly adapt to overcome any external limitation, and trash any particular and inflexible theory in the process.

Her grandmother might not be immediately conversant with self-amortizing debentures and zero-coupon bonds, but she understood financial leverage intuitively, because she knew what Archimedes did with levers in antiquity and had his very words in mind, in the original Doric Greek of Syracuse: Δός μοι πᾶ στῶ καὶ τὰν γᾶν κινάσω

Give me the place to stand, and I shall move the earth.

. Updated to modern Greek, one might say: Δος μοι που στω και κινω την γην (Dos moi pou sto kai kino taen gaen), ‘Give me the place to stand, and I shall move the earth.’

And here she stood, Archimedes’ lever firmly grasped, about to move the world.

Sa’aan went on, “True. What we thought was an orderly Animal Kingdom, with Humanity as the natural nobility and rulers, has been turned into something more like a democracy. The irony is that the revolution was probably staged by us, when we first began twiddling with mutagenics and free plasmids, then releasing the resulting protochimeric organisms into the environment for profit. Which brings us to my last point. Edith, can you arrange to have a powerful telepath meet us at my pool? I’m bringing in the orcas and I want to try an experiment.”

Nakia broke in, “I think I can simplify that particular problem. I’m arriving in Vancouver even as we speak, having taken a high-speed courier subway up to Ottawa and switched through from Ottawa to Vancouver. I should be at your doorstep within ten to twenty minutes. Without false modesty, I doubt that you’ll find a more powerful telepath on this or any coast, especially since our shared experience with the AquaWorld orcas.”

Sa’aan had heard about the courier subways, similar in overall design to the high-speed freight subways, which used form-fitting one-person carriers to traverse evacuated tubes at enormous speeds, but had never seen anything written about their capabilities. It was around four hundred and fifty miles from Washington, DC, to Ottawa, and another two thousand, two hundred from Ottawa to Vancouver. So if Nakia had started her journey near the beginning of their conversation, and would be here in under half an hour, she’d have traveled two thousand, four hundred and fifty miles at an average speed of more than a thousand miles an hour. “Nakia, do those things go as fast as I’ve just figured out?”

“Faster, actually. One has to be fairly fit, since the acceleration is rather intense. It took me longer to get to a terminus than the trip to the Ottawa switchpoint consumed in total, including getting fitted out in the acceleration couch. They can achieve fractional sub-orbital speeds in very short order, since the initial acceleration is mediated by a mag-lev mass driver. The tube itself is evacuated to well under three torr, about the equivalent of being sixty thousand feet above the Earth, so with modern ceramic materials there are no particular limits to the overall speed other than the ability of a human body to tolerate high G-forces at either end of the journey, and the capsule and track’s ability to handle the radial acceleration due to the curvature of the Earth during transit. They try to keep it below three G’s in normal use, but for an especially fit individual, among whom I modestly number myself, they can go up to eight, although I opted for six, purely out of concern for my vanity, as I hate the way my face feels at high accelerations. I’m sure it causes wrinkles. It’s the world’s second most expensive roller coaster ride, after the orbital elevator at Cayambe spaceport in Ecuador, and I’ve brought along a few of my associates, so I’ve already invested quite a bit of government money and having the excuse of the need for my special skills will make filling out the expense reports much easier. Most of the time on the short leg was spent in acceleration, dynamic reconfiguration of the acceleration couch — which is a jargonish way of saying that the couch is automatically reversed while in transit — and then deceleration. Switching at the Ottawa terminus to continue on to Vancouver was automatic as well, with another sequence of acceleration, a slightly longer ‘just coasting’ time, and eventual deceleration. I’m currently in the deceleration position and about to enter Vancouver subway control, whereupon they’ll initiate magnetic braking as we approach Vancouver Terminus and finally stop. I should be stepping into a flivver within five minutes, assuming all goes well.”

Sa’aan was impressed, “Jing-tsai! Buck Rogers stuff.”

Nakia laughed, “More or less. I don’t actually enjoy this sort of travel, since the transit capsules are utilitarian, cramped and claustrophobic, unlike the lovely rocket fins and art deco elements of Buck Rogers’ little toys. The transit capsules are actually more similar to very small tanker trailers than rocketships, and about as beautiful. If anything goes wrong, which is very rare, but possible, there’s a chance of injury or death. There’s not much margin set aside for error recovery at top speed, a little more than four thousand miles an hour, although the on-board life-support and emergency braking capability built into the capsule ameliorates the risk if multiple system failures cut power to the mag-lev tracks. It’s all touch and go though, and not done at quite this speed except in real emergencies. I’d guessed from your somewhat cryptic comments, just as you’d obviously intended, that this was very important, so here I come, but I’m taking an airship home, or a regular passenger subway. It will give me time to calm my shattered nerves.”

Sa’aan laughed, because she knew from their original contact that Nakia had nerves of steel, but her final mournful complaint was simply wonderful. “Thank you so much, dear Nakia. I appreciate your courage and willingness to come so far and so quickly help us. Would you like to be Ambassador to the Court of Neptune?”

Nakia laughed cheerfully, “Not today, thanks. But I may want to keep my options open if the powers that be decide to shoot the messenger. Whoops! There went the signal for the deceleration phase. Pardon me if I don’t talk too much for a bit….” Her voice cut off abruptly as the ambient noise on her circuit increased to a deep vibrating shudder of strained metal.

Sa’aan said, “Well! It sounds like Nakia will be incommunicado for a while, so why don’t we take this time to meet down by the beach? I’m about to arrive, and Nakia can easily find us as I’ve sent a text message to her BioLync in case she can’t hear during deceleration. Edith? If you’re in the area, perhaps you could come on over for our little powwow as well. Nakia will have to sit in by proxy for the first bit, I suppose, since she’s obviously still in transit.”

“Actually,” Nakia said quietly, but breathing hard, “I’m already here. I told you it was fast. We should be dropped off at your door in a very few minutes.”

“Well, in that case,” Sa’aan commented, “you know the way, so just come on down the back stairs when you arrive. And to answer your last question, I don’t think anyone’s going to shoot you, at least anyone in your organization or among government employees and even legislators. This is a mutually beneficial arrangement for everyone, and I think that’s going to become ever more clear as time goes on. Like the orcas, governments like to plan for the long haul, unlike many of their constituents and the politicians who sometimes serve them, and I think almost all of them will be willing, perhaps eager, to partner with a largely benevolent entity with a planning cycle that spans centuries rather than just figuring on getting by until the next election. It gives them the perfect foil to practice passing the buck to a third party on almost any issue that the local people don’t cotton to, and plenty of opportunities to shine in negotiations and in producing real results for their citizens.”

“Makes sense to me,” Leana said, “but then I don’t vote quite yet.”

With general assent, they all signed off with plans to reconvene on the beach below.

Sa’aan had been startled to hear the name of Archimedes, or a close approximation, followed by a rather distorted image of a man in what appeared to be a short Greek chiton and longer chlamys working by the sea on machineries of war, and supervising large crews constructing various devices, including the famous ‘Claw,’ a huge grappling hook designed to seize and capsize any vessel approaching the heavily-defended landing quay in the ancient harbor of Συρακοῦσαι, modern Syracuse, evidently sometime prior to two hundred and twelve years before the beginning of the common era, when he was murdered by a Roman soldier. He’d obviously been observed by some ancient orca ancestor at the siege of Syracuse, and understood by his actions if not his words. The story had been passed down to her great grandmother, apparently intact, and thence to herself.

Sa’aan shivered with the idea that she was talking to the transmitter of an oral history extending into the deep recesses of the ancient world, more than two millennia with recognizable historical figures she actually knew about. It had been one thing to hear about the last ice age, which was more or less mythical as far as most humans were concerned, but suddenly the orca’s oral tradition had intersected with her own. She supposed that their history would be sketchy about anything that took place too far from the water, and an orca would have had to have taken an interest in what was happening to begin with, but the idea fascinated her. She wondered, for example, whether the early colony on Roanoke Island had been observed, and whether those observations might shed light on the fate of Raleigh’s ‘lost colony,’

But she was also dumbfounded by the idea that the orcas had been waiting for her, or someone very like her, to appear on the scene, and frightened by the implications. Were they prescient, having some sort of direct knowledge of the future? Or were they simply looking for an opportunity, whatever sort of random event that came along? That’s how they hunted for food, so it would be easy to assume that they were just using good hunting strategy: keep your eyes and ears open, and something good to eat will come around.

But there had been something more than that in her great grandmother’s explanation, not that they had been searching for something, anything they could use, but that it was exactly her own self that they’d been waiting for.

The idea that the orcas had staked their very lives on her eventual existence was sobering, but she’d already convinced herself that this was a life and death matter for herself, her immediate family, and the world, so the orcas were in one way just one more part of her extended family who were depending on her, and there was something more in her great grandmother’s communication, hidden within the subtle nuances of relationships and causation. The plan she’d mentioned had the hint of an agency behind it, but it wasn’t the orcas themselves. There was another player waiting for her arrival, and the implication was that this shadowy agency had acted to create these present circumstances.

She wasn’t like her father about religion, and was much more skeptical about the influence of Heaven in daily events, since she saw no particular or compelling evidence of it. But the events of the past months, coupled with her great grandmother’s remarks, made her wonder if something was going on that would be hard to explain by ordinary means. Just looking at the pattern of her life since Florida, combined with the little story she’d told herself about the recent history of the world, it was clear that if she’d inspected it from the outside, without preconceived notions of what reality consisted of, she’d be confident that someone was cheating, pulling the strings of history in some unknown manner, because the long series of incredible coïncidences and lucky accidents that had led to her present situation were so wildly improbable.

She was starting to see the full complexity of the many threads interwoven in her life, in the history of humanity, and she was starting to discern the first hints of an actual mind behind the wizard’s curtain. Soon, the curtain might slip away.

The more she thought about this the more excited she grew, just like when she saw the winning move in a chess game coming into focus ten moves ahead. This game, however, was being played with Edith and Nakia, stand-ins for the governments they represented, and with an unknown entity — whether malignant or benign — behind even these major players, and neither skill nor intellect was entirely sufficient. The stakes were very high, the watery globe itself, and all those creatures, great and small, living thereupon, and she was about to roll the dice. She’d formed a fuzzy image of the mysterious figure moving the most significant levers of power, and was acting to disclose him.

She called to her ‘great grandmother,’ giving her a ranging signal and an estimate of the size of the pool as they swam toward the entrance, and most of the orcas peeled off to the sides as they approached, leaving Sa’aan and the matriarch out in front, with two of her daughters on either side of them but slightly behind.

Sa’aan could see her parents, and then Edith, followed closely by Leana. Leana was hopping to keep as much weight as possible off her leg, but easily keeping up with the others as they descended the stairs on the bluff, reaching the beach just as she passed the entrance of her pool with the matriarch and the two daughters, evidently assistants, or protogés, following closely behind. She still wasn’t exactly sure of the hierarchy, or social network, among the orcas, but there wasn’t any jostling for position, so she assumed that those waiting outside the pool itself knew who belonged and who didn’t in the now somewhat crowded pool. For her own peace of mind, she kept track of the status of her surveillance routines, and maintained her own wide-ranging vigilance as well, but there hadn’t been anything suspicious noted by either means yet, so she felt fairly confident of their safety. She didn’t think the organization which had targeted them before could have had time yet to regroup and try again, but she didn’t believe in taking chances.

Even in her former body, she’d been thorough almost to the point of mania, at least according to her sister, but now she had so much spare time to think things through that myriads of potential problems sprang up like daffodils after a rain. Once they’d drawn themselves to her attention, she had to plan for them as best as she could. Oh, well then. You pays your money and you takes your chance, doesn’t you, duckie?

And here they were, coming down the beach toward the head of the pool, where her parents led the way toward the chairs and the little table with a fringed blue umbrella cheerfully arrayed above it. Her father walked ahead of the rest, and was soon at the edge of the pool, where he bowed slightly, then straightened and threw his arms wide, saying formally, “Welcome, guests!

She noticed then that Leana was carrying a cooler, presumably containing a little something to drink for the human guests. Sa’aan opened all their links, including Nakia’s, and spoke formally, recording everything for posterity along with multiple vid feeds, although she supposed that most of the others were doing much the same, “Mom, Dad, Leana. Edith Mortenson, I understand that you represent the Canadian Chimeric Transition Agency.”

Sa’aan continued, “Nakia bint Ramia Inconnu, representing the Re-formed States of America, is both online and on her way”

“Hi, Sa’aan, all of you,” Nakia answered. “If you’ll glance to the east, you should see my borrowed transportation, courtesy both of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police and the Canadian Coast Guard, coming toward you, and I brought along a few friends, all of us with bells on.”

Sa’aan had already noticed a helicopter approaching, but had seen from her connection to Vancouver Air Traffic Control that it was a Canadian Coast Guard flight on official business, so she hadn’t worried about it. But evidently Nakia had ‘borrowed’ it. She took another look out of curiosity, and saw that it was a twin rotor heavy lift rescue copter, much like the one that had picked up her would-be attackers in the boat that very morning, coming in low and fast from the southeast. In fact, it was already over the low headland occupied by UBC and its sister institution, the Vancouver Polyversity, and would be arriving in short order. She checked on her airship and sent it out toward the Strait to keep it out of the way. Then she turned the adaptive camouflage off and the navigation strobes on to make sure they saw it, just in case. “Nakia, we would have baked you a cake if we’d known you were going to make such a production of this.”

Nakia laughed, “A cake? For me? And you couldn’t order out? It’s a lucky thing I had lunch or I’d be crushed, absolutely crushed.”

Sa’aan reassured her, “Maybe we can make it up to you. Would you like to go for a swim?”

“Are you serious? Of course I’d like to go for a swim! I’ve been jealous of Leana’s adventure with you and your new friends since I first heard of it.”

“Shur-ah! We’ll talk about it after the serious bits. I take it that you’ll be dropping in, instead of taking the stairs?”

With that, the aircraft was overhead and the downdraft of the rotors buffeted those below, sweeping up a cloud of stinging sand and grit. Sa’aan’s father furled the large umbrella with such grace that it looked like he’d been planning to do it all along, and plucked a cushion out of mid-air that seemed to be headed for the open sea with the same unhurried aplomb. She suddenly wondered if Crotalus, the action vid hero, had been modeled after her father. There weren’t all that many rattlesnake Chimeræ that she knew of. In fact, now that her own body had changed, she knew of only one. A half dozen black ropes dropped down from the open cargo doors on either side of the helicopter and Nakia jumped out, rappelling down one of the ropes using some sort of

Nakia bowed toward the onlookers as she shed the harness and said with a toothy grin, “No trouble at all. For my next trick, I’ll juggle three chainsaws while eating an apple. The persons who so politely stand behind me are several members of my security team, seconded temporarily to the RCMP for jurisdictional authority, who’ll be installing a few gadgets on the perimeter and generally keeping our distinguished visitors — not to mention you and your family — safe from any harm. The RCMP proper will be sending an additional team along by surface transport, just in case. We wouldn’t want what could be viewed as a State visit marred by any excitement. The RSA Consul here in Vancouver will be stopping by this evening to call on you if you’re receiving guests, lending an air of unofficial officialdom to your status — primarily to satisfy the State Department, who are punctilious about appearances — and, at your convenience, the RSA is prepared to present the credentials of a Special Ambassador to the Orcas almost immediately. Of course, as a courtesy toward our Canadian friends, we’ll delay this formal step if they would prefer pride of place in the official ceremony. In any case, to make a long story short, you’ve won — on our end at least — without a word being spoken or any adverse action taken.” She stepped toward them as her crew moved smoothly along the bottom of the bluff to either side, two pairs unfolding some sort of complex surveillance equipment as they reached positions on their flanks, and a single individual climbing the face of the bluff almost as easily as Sa’aan’s father had done, then disappearing into the low foliage at the edge.

Déjà vu all over again, Sa’aan thought, and then said, “Thank you so much! You’re a big part of my plan, Nakia, since my own experience and testimony is unlikely to be dispositive in this situation. What I’d like you to do is link with me, as best you can, while I do the talking and understanding of the orca matriarch’s words. If you could also take a peek into her brain that would be great, but I don’t know how well that will work. I know the people who worked with me during my recovery had trouble, although I may be better able to help now, since I’m starting to understand the structure of my own brain more clearly. I’m hoping as well that the connection we shared at AquaWorld will help to ‘jumpstart’ the connection.”

“That sounds reasonable to me, and probably our best shot at wider understanding, since it seems that speaking Orcan, to coin a word, requires an orca brain, with all the supporting structures that make such speech possible, just as human brains possess an underlying structure, or series of structures, capable of processing human speech. Shall we start? I’d like to invite everyone here present to link with me as well, insofar as possible. I know Leana and Simon have a good shot, especially with my help, and Edith, but I’m not sure about Eileen.”

Her mother answered apologetically, “I can detect a mental presence fairly reliably, but have never had much skill at getting inside anyone’s brain. I’m a weak to moderate healer, but that’s about it. Leana, and now Sa’aan, received the very special gifts in the family, and both are much more powerful now than either Simon or I had ever hoped to be.”

Nakia reassured her, “Well, let’s give it a try anyway. You might be surprised. Sa’aan, will you do the honors?”

She would. She began by telling the matriarch who everyone was, her parents, her sister, whom she’d already known about from the report of the two males, and then Edith and Nakia. It was harder than it had been to do a social introduction before her change, since she had to think carefully to place Edith and Nakia into a relationship community, and it was hard to explain what a ‘job’ was, a sort of œcological niche that people placed themselves in by inclination or necessity. But she wasn’t terribly surprised to find that her ‘great grandmother’ had little difficulty with her explanations, relaying back her own understandings of human interactions, and their relationship to the world around them, as she’d observed them from her watery vantage point. Sa’aan was more than awed by the elder’s intellectual abilities, and startled disbelief had already almost vanished from her repertoire of responses.

So she wasn’t disconcerted to discover that her ‘ancestor’ had an excellent grasp of mutual agreements, treaties by another name, when Sa’aan explained her proposal. The resident orcas had just such an arrangement with the transient orcas, which is how they’d divided up fish, a preferred food source, and marine mammals and birds, inferior stuff according to her ‘great grandmother,’ with the residents taking both responsibility for and advantage of the salmon and other fish of the inland waters, while the transients did the same for the seals and such on the exposed Pacific coast. The sly old lady even knew how BioLyncs worked, not in detail but generally, and wasn’t surprised to learn that Sa’aan communicated with people far away by means of one. It figures, Sa’aan thought to herself. She can see the hardware inside me, and can probably detect the minute sounds my units make during use, or has observed the muscle movements of my subvocalizations.

Her great grandmother then explained, in unprompted response to Sa’aan’s silent musing, that the orcas had long been aware of BioLyncs, because they’d seen them worn or carried by swimmers, and had noticed that they could call for help using these devices if they got a cramp or were otherwise incapacitated, so she’d recognized them immediately when she saw that Sa’aan had similar devices embedded in her body.

All this palaver had taken only a few seconds, at normal orca conversational pace, so she was ready to speak by the time the others had gathered again near the edge of the pool. She began, simultaneously opening her mind to Nakia, Edith, and her family, rising partially out of the water in a spyhop, so that she towered over those around the pool, “Nakia, Edith, I’ll address you first since this bit is official. I’d like to present a partial ancestor, my great grandmother by inheritance if not by birth, the ruler of these waters and supreme Chief of an aboriginal First Nation band who’ve escaped your notice hitherto, because of remoteness, language and other difficulties. In the language of the orca people, she is known primarily by her rôle and region of authority, so you can address her as Keeper of the Inland Sea. She has authority to bind the Orca peoples of the open ocean as well, although they have their own chiefs for their own purposes, so another of her titles might be thought of as High Chief of the Northeastern Pacific. While she doesn’t rule the other cetaceans, she does have influence among their number, especially regarding human interactions, so you can also think of her as Advisor to the Whales. She comes before you for the purpose of announcing her authority and entering treaty negotiations.” As if on cue, her great grandmother rose from the water in a similar spyhop, slightly taller, eyeing the humans with inscrutable intensity.

Edith answered first, as this was her home territory, “Welcome, Keeper of the Inland Sea, High Chief of the Northeastern Pacific, and Advisor to the Whales. Greetings from His Majesty’s government in Canada, and particular respect from Winifred Shebagegit-Strong, Prime Minister of Canada, Premier ministre du Canada, and Chief of the Ochiichagwe’babigo’ining First Nation. Wayne McKenzie-Namaypoke, Governor General of Canada, Gouverneure générale du Canada, also sends greetings, as do Akemi Tamaguchi, Premiere of the Province of British Columbia, and Miriam bat Deborah Ulman, Premiere of the Province of Washington. I am Edith Mortenson, my title and rôle would correspond roughly to Protector of the Chimeræ of Western Canada, and I have been given authority by my government to make certain agreements and proffers of friendship, within predefined limits, without prior consultation. To begin with, we here recognize your people’s status as an aboriginal First Nation of Canada, with all rights of citizenship and protection adhering to that status.” She smiled down at Sa’aan and said, soto voce, “You should have heard them scream about having this sprung on them without notice, but you were right in that it took only a short explanation and a few seconds for them to grasp what you’d so ably explained to me. They can’t afford to drag their feet on this, and they know it. You were right about your great grandmother as well. I’m getting just the surface of her thoughts, and most of what I understand is almost beyond me, but she makes me feel like I was ten years old and talking to the headmaster at school.”

She continued, “We also agree in principle that the Inland Sea of Canada, comprising Georgia Strait, the Strait of Juan de Fuca, and Puget Sound is your aboriginal homeland, and we are prepared to negotiate an orderly restoration of the pristine œcological environment hitherto enjoyed by your people before our habitation of the land, insofar as it lies within our power. Sa’aan has already mentioned a tentative timetable but, as it happens, I believe we can advance on that in some areas, since my government had already laid plans to attempt replenishment of forests on what is now agricultural land for the purpose of accelerating carbon sequestration and to eliminate most irrigation in the arid western regions. Your status as Keeper of the Inland Sea will give us good leverage to accelerate a process already begun, and sorely needed for our own purposes. For this, and other gifts, we thank you.”

Sa’aan felt like whooping with glee, except that she was trying to maintain a level of decorum and dignity suitable to the occasion, managing to relay their offer and promises and obtain the elder’s consent to affirm the agreement on her behalf, all without laughing out loud or hurling her body from the water in a burst of energy. She loved it when a plan came together. She restrained herself, consulted again with the matriarch, but briefly, and said only, “My great grandmother accepts, and assures you that she recognizes the rights of humans to interact with the rest of the global community, and will not assert rights that would harm you in the long run, although she wishes me to inform you that you haven’t been doing a very good job of caring for our common heritage so far. She presumes that this is because we are a very young race, and is very pleased that we now seem more inclined to listen to the benevolent advice of our elders and act with wisdom to maintain friendly and sustainable relations with all of life.”

Edith answered contritely, “Let me assure you, Ma’am, that your point is well taken, and only adds to the deep regret we feel for our reckless behavior in the past. We’re working hard to rectify the extensive damages to our climate and physical environment caused by human greed and indifference to consequences, and appreciate any advice you can give us.”

Sa’aan relayed this to the elder and was astonished by her reply, since she quoted a human, not in the native language of the orcas, in which the expression would have been a tautology, but in his own language, “Her advice is, and I have no earthly idea how she knows of Hippocrates, but she refers to him by his Greek name, and quotes him in Greek, ‘make a habit of two things — to help, or at least to do no harm.’ I can only assume that she knows that you’re reading her thoughts through my mediation.”

“I heard her directly,” Edith replied, “and am humbled anew. Please assure her that the utter folly of our former arrogance toward her people has been impressed upon me in a manner which I will never forget, and which I will endeavor to communicate in the strongest possible terms to my superiors.”

Her great grandmother answered Edith’s words before Sa’aan had a chance to translate, and her gaze held the same fond look of benevolent regard she’d directed at Sa’aan when she’d helped the greedy youngster. Her mind projected a psychic aura of compassionate power that stunned all the humans around the pool. Sa’aan relayed her words, “She says, and she’s speaking in English, ‘All will be well, child. Don’t worry too much about the world as a whole, but do the best you can with those parts of it you encounter in your own life.’ I should add that she’s evidently very fond of you all, and thanks you for the care you’ve taken on my behalf.”

Edith began to weep with deep emotion, “I felt that too. Thank you for your blessing, Ma’am. I’ll always strive to be worthy of it.” And with that, she burst into tears and turned away.

Nakia reached toward her with open arms, and they fell into a close embrace, Edith still weeping but slowly regaining her composure. Nakia then looked toward the matriarch, still risen from the water, and said simply, “I had a formal speech prepared, but it seems pretentious now, as I realize that we are only children in the presence of greatness. I am Nakia bint Ramia Inconnu, styled for this meeting Protector of the Chimeræ of the Re-formed States of America, and I add my own tenders of friendship and respect on behalf of my government and myself. All the details can be arranged later, since I was able to grasp what our elder offered and agreed to, and hasten to assure her that we will comply with the same general plan as our Canadian friends to the north and east in respect to our own cetacean populations. We will also plead your case to the United Nations, with the help of both Canada and Mexico, already agreed to on the highest levels, as our superiors have been listening to our meeting here, and have assured me privately that every effort will be made to put things right after all these years of neglect and inattention to the widespread abuse and destruction of the oceans and their life. Our Ambassador to the United Nations, in concert with the Ambassadors of Canada and Mexico, has risen before that body to declare our joint discovery and recognition of the intelligence of all cetaceans, and has declared that every whale, anywhere in the world, holds at least triple citizenship in all our countries, on the grounds that our territorial waters may be their partial home, and undertake to regard any attack on whales, anywhere in the world, as a hostile assault on our own citizens and interests and an act of war. We expect many nations to follow suit. The RSA is diminished from what it was in centuries past, but we are still a maritime force to be reckoned with in this world and, with the help of our friends, we will prevail in any dispute. Even as we speak, Federal lawsuits have been filed on behalf of the orcas, and other marine mammals, of AquaWorld and similar tourist attractions, research institutions, and military programs, and these imprisoned citizens will all be returned to their places of origin as rapidly as is both possible and safe. Based on my previous conversations with Sa’aan, I can also tell you that legislation has been brought forward in both houses of Congress to immediately outlaw certain fishing practices, including longlines, seines, trawls, gill nets, drift nets, and dredging of all types, and extending our jurisdiction to the high seas to police these methods as crimes against humanity. I believe Canada is doing the same in the two houses of their Parliament, and Mexico will soon follow. Provisions will be made to compensate and retrain all those citizens affected by the legislation, although most of the large commercial operations now use foreign-flagged vessels and foreign crews based far from North America. We are also bringing a joint action before the World Court on behalf of all the cetaceans, and fully expect to prevail. We anticipate some pushback, but nothing we can’t handle.”

She nodded and said, “We have, but unofficially. We let them know about the attacks on you and on your family, and they want nothing to do with any such treachery. Further, they seem to be persuaded that we’re not just making this stuff up about the whales, and the Chimeræ among them were frightened when we privately told them of our concerns, following your own précis of possible consequences. So both are finally willing to retire their small whaling fleets for ‘humanitarian reasons’ that have nothing at all to do with saving their own necks. They weren’t making all that much money on whaling anyway, since their only customer was Japan and the meat the Japanese bought was mostly being dumped. So this news gives them a good excuse to put a stop to the whole sorry business. Since the subway system reached Iceland, they’ve been making a lot more money from tourism, and more whales will mean more happy tourists on their beaches come summer. Norway’s one-ship fleet was the pet project of one sentimental captain yearning for the olden days of wooden ships and iron men, but he’s seen which way the wind is blowing and is a wolf Chimera besides. I understand he plans to make his ship the centerpiece of a museum which will chronicle the slaughter and act as a memorial, so perhaps some good will come of it at last.”

Sa’aan relayed the news to her great grandmother, who seemed amused by the rapidity of the capitulations of two of the three whaling nations, and she promptly sank gracefully back into the water and turned to swim away, followed closely by the two older females who’d been flanking her. But as she left, she reminded Sa’aan that the activities of Japan weren’t that likely to be easily turned from their course, because they had much more pride and national feeling bound up in their power to take the huge whales and kill them, defying world opinion, perhaps compensating for their resounding and shameful defeat in the last world war, even though it had been more than three centuries before. Sa’aan remained behind, saying to Nakia and the rest, “I can hardly believe that this could all happen in just one day.”

“Thus, in the twinkling of an eye, we take our leave of folly.” her father observed wryly, quoting an obscure twenty-second century poet.

Edith, now fully composed, explained further, “It actually wasn’t terribly hard to get things moving. With your hint about the identity of the people who set your assailants in motion, we were able to trace the beginnings of a link to the yakuza-style organized criminal gangs, using aggressive mental search warrants and a few informants, although we haven’t gotten to the end yet. But we had enough in hand to threaten immediate banking and other sanctions against any nation or organization with ties to the conspiracy. Very few were willing to take the fall for small reward, so those who weren’t moved by guilt and empathy for the plight of the whales, or worried about the long term effect on human Chimeræ, simply cut their losses and decamped, shocked, simply shocked, that criminals had infiltrated what they’d thought was a legitimate business.” She rolled her eyes expressively toward the skies.

“I don’t suppose the Japanese have done the same.” Sa’aan said gloomily.

Nakia answered, “No, they’ve objected strenuously to our slur against their national honor and have vowed to continue their scientific research as noble martyrs to the cause of knowledge. We have several frigates in Antarctic waters, and will be watching out for them down there, but it’s still a big ocean and getting bigger every day.”

Sa’aan said, “I have an idea about that, but I’ll have to test it on my own, probably tomorrow.” Setting this final problem aside for the moment, she asked, “So. I know both Nakia and Edith were able to verify that the orca elder is a sentient being of a high order, but how about the rest of you? I was busy channeling her thoughts as well as her words, so I wasn’t able to keep careful track of who was listening in.”

Leana spoke first, “I was. The experience was intense, although it was confusing at times because it all happened so fast, but I can verify that your words transmitted her thoughts and not your own.”

“That’s understandable. Like me, she processes sounds and thoughts much more quickly than humans are usually capable of.”

Her father spoke next, “I too can verify that she was the originator of the words you spoke, but was even more flummoxed by the speed and complexity of her thoughts. None-the-less, I can swear to the fact that, through my own observations of the working of her mind, she’s not only intelligent, but appears to be substantially more so than any of us here present.”

“Oddly enough,” her mother mused, “I was able to follow along about as well as it sounds like Leana did, although I’ve never been a strong telepath. Was Sa’aan doing something that made it easier for me?”

Nakia answered with something like pride in her voice, “I think I can explain. In going back over our notes on Sa’aan’s recovery, and then interviewing — and in some cases retesting — the people who were in daily contact with her, especially those who were in the water with her, we’ve recently — actually just today — discovered that quite a few of them have become psychically more powerful, and several have developed entirely new powers. Or at least it seems that way. It could also be that they had these so-called new powers all along, but the powers had been too weak to detect prior to their encounter with Sa’aan and were only then amplified to the point that people noticed. So your experience bears out a theory I had, that you might surprise yourself when put to the test. And it appears that I was right. You might want to consider getting yourself retested for your official records, since both you and Leana were in intimate daily contact with her throughout her recovery. It seems to be a slower version of the incident at the orca circus, where Leana, Mr. Jefferson, and I were suddenly enhanced by means of direct mental link from Sa’aan.”

Nakia assured her, “Not necessarily. If you’d developed the ability to fly in the past few months, how could you tell without flapping your arms or tugging on your bootstraps? People usually don’t try to do things they ‘know’ are impossible. We’re recommending that everyone who’s been in close contact with Sa’aan be retested, and we’re trying to track down the Chimeræ in the near vicinity of the original incident at AquaWorld as well, although it’s been very hard to do. We’ve been trying to access BioLync positioning records of every Chimera we know was in the park, but the people who paid cash at the gate, or used a friend’s ticket, or didn’t have a BioLync at the time, or just sneaked into the park over a wall to look at the fireworks, don’t have discoverable identities that we can use for probable cause. Even with an identifiable public health risk, that of untrained and unregistered Chimeræ with unknown powers, we can’t just randomly comb through the records of everyone on the planet to see where they were on a particular day and time. And without some hint of their identities, we….”

Sa’aan interrupted, “What if you used the BioLync records of those you’ve already identified to see who’d captured a vid of the crowd? Probably lots of them, and most people nowadays post their vacation vids on the net, so quite a few will be freely available without a search warrant. The park probably has surveillance cameras in place, but they might not capture enough detail, since they’re usually intended to keep track of overall pedestrian traffic patterns, except at pay points, and are usually mounted so they capture a bird’s eye view. You could use them to fill in around the edges though, or to track people you’ve already identified but don’t have BioLync data for. Then you could use facial recognition algorithms to identify all those visible in each scene, collapse them into a set of unique individuals, filter the resulting list using the photos of those you’ve already identified to eliminate duplicates, and be left with a list of those you haven’t found yet, or at least their pictures. You’d have to expand the actual time period to catch people who were using the public restrooms, or otherwise not immediately visible, but eventually you’d be left with a very small number of people who don’t have photo-ID’s, or were wearing veils or slouchy hats, whom you’d have to track further, enlarging the time window until you managed to see everyone, or almost everyone, in the process of doing something that ties them to a record, buying something with a credit transaction, entering public transportation, meeting someone you’ve identified, and so on. But you’d already have an expanded list of park attendees and could model their actual movements over time, so you’d be able to narrow the list of people who might have been in a position to catch them in a vid. You’d probably be left with a small group of faces without names, mostly young children running around on their own I’d think, but you could feed those orphan pictures into the national recognition grids for public transport and eventually find everyone, assuming that they ever go anywhere again. It’s a variation of the same techniques that law enforcement agencies use to track the movements of suspected criminals, using public observation sensors and records. If you explained that there was a possible health risk, even without going into specifics, most people would be glad to coöperate. We’re all still very much aware of the billions who died when the original chimeric infections started spreading, and many of us still worry about a repeat. Would you like me to write the code?”

Everyone just stared at her in amazement, until Leana shrugged her shoulders and said, “See? My little Mei-mei is a genius at this sort of thing. Maybe you could find a job for her running the entire government, or something simple like that. She could probably knock that off in her spare time, and then work on really important problems like solving the Riemann zeta-hypothesis or the Birch and Swinnerton-Dyer conjecture.”

Sa’aan answered, slightly aggrieved, “It wouldn’t be that hard to add that capability to the surveillance code I wrote last night, to track potential threats near the house. And I don’t know what either of those problems are.”

Leana laughed, “Believe me, they’d be right up your alley, since they involve very complex patterns. The two of them still have very substantial prizes attached for a formal solution. I know about them because my math teacher last year used them as examples when a boy complained that math wasn’t worth anything in the real world, and showed quite elegantly that one’s expectation of achieving great wealth through taking advanced mathematics courses was more than a hundred times greater than if you worked very hard at being the world’s greatest football striker. But what about this surveillance code you mentioned?”

“I meant to tell you about it; I’ve patched into all the sonic sensors in the vicinity and created two main algorithms, the first to identify the exact location of anything that sounds like a gunshot, and the other to detect stealthy movements. I sent away for a gross of mobile œcological study sensors to thicken the network, but they won’t arrive until tomorrow. Would you mind releasing them when they arrive?”

“They’re small bots that can be programmed to maintain a pseudo-random sequence of observational activities within a predefined area. They have a low-capacity onboard AI and look a lot like wood rats, which are native to this area and shouldn’t draw undue attention. They’re pre-programmed to hide from casual observation in any case.”

“Eeew! What do I look like, the Pied Piper of Hamelin? You want me to deliberately install artificial vermin in the woods around our house? Why not sprinkle in a few bats and creepy spiderwebs so we can have Count Dracula’s castle in Vancouver?”

“The bats aren’t a bad idea,” Sa’aan murmurred thoughtfully, “since they would give me ærial coverage at night, but I wasn’t able to find any in the catalogs and I already have the albatross.”

Leana cried out, “Albatross? As in Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner albatross? What albatross?”

“Mr. Jefferson gave me one,” she replied. “I just discovered it last night, along with a jing-tsai miniature airship so I could fly by proxy. If you look sharp, you can see the airship right above us. I linked them both into my surveillance network but I’m holding the albatross in reserve.”

Nakia looked up for a long while before saying, “My, my, my, but we have been a busy girl, haven’t we? I might as well have stayed home with my highly trained security team and expensive military-grade surveillance and intrusion-detection equipment. You seem to have cobbled together a near equivalent using ordinary household objects and chewing gum. Isn’t there a vid series featuring a Chimera who does this sort of technological jiggerypokery?”

“No, that’s not it at all…. Well, yes, there is. It’s called Morganstar and he’s a wolf chime. I sort of like it…. But you weren’t here last night, and I needed something to protect my family right away that didn’t require constant attention. And the underwater sensors are absolutely jing-tsai! I hadn’t thought of that… — yet.”

Nakia glanced down at her meaningfully, and then resumed looking toward the sky, asking reasonably, “Why is the airship so hard to see, exactly? I can just barely make it out against the clouds.”

“Mr. Jefferson coated the skin with flexible vidscreen material,” she answered. “I suppose so I could use it to do show and tells, or just for fun, so I’m using it to display a mottled pattern that breaks up the edges of the envelope and duplicates the averaged color and brightness of the sky as captured by my onboard cameras.”

Nakia continued calmly, smiling, “So you just casually reinvented smart camouflage, a closely-guarded and highly secret military technology, just last night, in your spare time, between watching episodes of Morganstar that is?”

“Well, I guess so, but I do have a lot of time to think about things because I never sleep. And I play vids at eight times the usual rate, so they go by pretty fast. An hourlong show takes seven and a half minutes, more or less. Mostly less, since I skip the boring parts and rarely replay scenes. And I think pretty fast too. If I were still thinking at my old speed, I reckon it would have taken me a week or so to work out the bugs in my system. But of course, I wouldn’t have had to, since nobody cared about me, or my family, when I was just a nerdy little snake boy.”

Everyone looked slightly disconcerted by this, and there was an uncomfortable silence before Edith cleared her throat. “Sa’aan,” she said gently, “George Herbert, a man of many platitudes, once said that living well is the best revenge. He lived in the early 1600’s, a contemporary of Shakespeare, and life hasn’t changed all that much since then. The same people who scorned you in school will be bragging that you were their best friend twenty years from now, when you are famous and widely admired and they are neither. In the stillness of the night, as they look over their lives, the bitter thought that they might have shared that fame, even received the odd card on holidays that they might have shown their mates and reminisce about, had they been better friends and playmates, will haunt them like a sad and lonely ghost.”

Edith retorted forcefully, “Sa’aan, you know better than that. I wasn’t always an old lady! I transitioned at the age of twelve. I got my first period and full-fledged Chimerism in the same month. Don’t you think I had similar experiences at school? A young girl just entering puberty who turned into a literal fox, a vixen? My so-called ‘friends’ had very many nasty and hurtful things to say, let me assure you. But look at me now. I’m one of the most powerful government officials in Western Canada, widely known and respected in the community of Chimeræ, and in the world at large. My face is on the vidscreens every week at least, and the same kids who pulled my ears in school are all grown up now, sending me pathetic posts pleading for special help for their children, or friends, because they’re having difficulties with bigots and whatnot. I always answer kindly, and help them if I can, because that’s both my job and my nature, but I have to confess that a small part of my pleasure in doing this is the sure knowledge that it galls them that I’m so nice, and that they were so rotten and mean.”

Nakia added, “You know, Sa’aan, we often think that the Purists are just religious bigots and/or crazy. but did it ever occur to you that full Chimerism is almost every child’s secret fantasy? The chance to actually become a superhero, just like they see on the actionvids after school? Don’t you think that, back when you were the lowly ‘nerdy snake boy,’ at least some of those mean kids were insanely jealous because you got to be Crotalus in real life and they didn’t? Because you were smart and they weren’t? These people may clutch at religious reasons in later life to ‘prove’ that they are really ‘blessed’ to be an ‘ordinary human,’ but the ‘gift of true salvation’ now was often, I think, the taste of sour grapes and bitter disappointment when they were younger.”

She maintained a stubborn silence for a few seconds, enough time to mull these ideas over thoroughly, before laughing again and answering, “That’s the trouble with adults. You can be so darned mature! But you’re right, of course. Wouldn’t they be just green with envy if they knew that I could make things explode with a thought? It’s every young boy’s dream. I always had the power to do the bullies serious harm, since I had my father’s envenomed fangs, but I never told them, much less used them, because I knew that they’d always be afraid of me afterwards, which would make them hate me even more. I led them to believe that the fangs and venom that Crotalus used were just special effects to make the vids more exciting. When I was younger, I used to fantasize about biting just a few of the worst of them, just a tiny little bite, and just a tiny drop of venom, and suddenly they’d all respect me, but I knew it wouldn’t work that way in real life.” She suddenly laughed, “And now look at me! I’m stronger and more powerful, I think, than any human alive, and I still can’t tell them so! It’s an absolutely perfect example of cosmic irony.”

“Perhaps not quite perfect, dear,” her mother said softly. “We know. All the important people know. And we loved you just as dearly when you were a ‘nerdy little snake boy,’ as you put it. Well, Edith didn’t know you then, but I’m sure she would have if she had.”

Edith piped up, “I’m sure I would have too. The more I know you, the more I’m impressed by your… goodness, for lack of a better word. For all your talents, you’re as modest and unaffected as a lamb, kind to people who probably don’t deserve it, and fiercely protective of your family. Not to mention clever to a fault. You do realize that you’re well on your way to unraveling a

“Indeed it doesn’t,” Nakia observed, “and Sa’aan? If you don’t mind, could you let Edith or I know before you tell anyone about these little inventions of yours? We’d like to know before you decide to invent a laser cannon out of an old piece of plasteel tubing, a bit of string, and an antique transistor radio and post it on the net.”

Sa’aan chided her, “That’s silly, Nakia. You’d need at least three bits of string and an LED flashlight to invent a laser cannon. It wouldn’t hurt to have a small supply of argon as well.”

Nakia’s eyes widened, “Please tell me you’re joking,” she begged in a slightly strained tone of voice.

Sa’aan let her hang for a second before answering, “Well, mostly. The real difficulty lies in laying one’s hands on a million megajoules or more of electrical energy. It’s not the sort of thing most households have lying on the pantry shelf, nor can one easily pick up a few packets at the market. On the other hand, if one could lay one’s hands on a bit of deuterium fluoride, you could make a chemical laser fairly cheaply, and aiming it with modern AI’s and processing power is a snap. It’s even œcologically sound, since the resulting gas can be captured and recycled.”

“But that’s classified information!” Nakia exclaimed. Then she thought about it for a moment and said, “Never mind….”

“Exactly. The working models the military uses today may be, but the technology was fully developed in Israel almost two hundred years ago. I may not know all that much about military ‘secrets,’ but I know quite a bit about Israel. Once you know that something can be done, it’s merely a matter of tinkering before you have a working version. It’s not, as they used to say in the olden days, rocket science. The military high command always seem to think that because they can’t understand something, no one else could possibly do so without stealing it somehow, and without simultaneously realizing that this attitude is diagnostic of a certain level of mental vacuity.”

“Well, that’s possibly the most polite way of saying ‘thickheaded’ I’ve recently encountered, but I have to agree sometimes.” Nakia conceded.

Sa’aan wasn’t finished. “Really? I thought it was quite rude. It matches my mood. There’s a fairly reliable rule in military hierarchies that officers can be only a little bit smarter than those they lead before they arouse enmity among the troops and become ineffectual, which eventually limits the upper range of ability for flag officers to far below the real human potential, since they almost always rise through the ranks. If one starts out in life with an IQ of a hundred and ten to twenty, it’s extremely doubtful that pinning oak leaves or stars upon one’s uniform makes one smarter. I think it was Upton Sinclair who said, ‘It is difficult to get a man to understand something when his salary depends upon his not understanding it.’ It’s been very clear for at least three centuries that modern warfare is profoundly ineffective, and usually seriously harmful to both parties in the conflict, a crude and vicious exercise in slapdash hooliganism which we wouldn’t tolerate in any other context, much less call it a ‘police action.’ So the people who take it seriously enough to make a career of it are necessarily fools. The Israeli deuterium fluoride laser system, which was both reliable and cheap, languished for years because the high commands of both Israel and the old USA preferred explosive rockets that made a loud noise and left a pretty trail of smoke and fire. One imagines them clapping with glee when their ineffectual little fireworks went off, quite unconcerned with the fact that their spectacular toys didn’t happen to have much practical use or effect.”

Edith laughed, “I can assume then, that you’re not terribly fond of the military?”

She answered, “I don’t dislike them. They can’t help being what they are, but I question the wisdom of placing much faith in them, much less trusting them with our national interests or anything else of critical importance. Time and time again, military advice to civil leaders has proved ruinous for both if taken, or even given serious credence. The history of the RSA is a case in point, taken from major world power to near-total collapse in one generation. That doesn’t mean that people may not have to fight if some moron in uniform attacks them, nor are efficient police departments unnecessary, but the logistics of defense are so lopsided in favor of indigenous populations armed with modern weapons that wars of aggression, or even forward placement of troops as a ‘preventative’ measure, amounts to a black hole into which you can toss any national treasury in its entirety without any favorable outcome in the real world. The Swiss had one very good idea about militaries centuries ago. They abolished them almost entirely as a tool of statecraft — after a bloody interval as vicious mercenaries who managed to muck up the politics of Europe pretty thoroughly — and then armed their citizens to the teeth as a defensive alternative, making any potential invasion so unpalatable that they’ve managed to hang onto their neutral status for half a millennium.”

Edith countered, “But surely the Second World War made a real difference in terms of freedom for the rest of Europe.”

“Not really,” she said with a sigh. “It almost ruined Germany and Italy, who had the very best military planners with foolproof strategies for conquest that couldn’t possibly fail, so you can hardly argue the value of standing armies and strategies based on military aggression with their bad example staring you in the face. The Wehrmacht’s Blitzkreig was simply morphed from Imperial Rome’s Shock and Awe, as if it were a sparkling new invention, but it was the same old stupid barroom belligerence. If Germany hadn’t had a standing army, they might not have gotten up to so much wickedness and evil. Even so, they might have succeeded in western Europe temporarily, if they’d stopped there, but resistance movements were already making serious headway against them by the end of the war, and would eventually have finished them if enough arms had been given to these movements early on; even earlier if the arms had been ready to hand. The Second World War in Europe was mostly won in Russia, where the Nazi state lost more than five million soldiers fighting against people who were fiercely defending their homes and families. The Western Front was almost an afterthought, and Nazi losses negligible by comparison, because most of the European citizens weren’t armed. In the Pacific, the Japanese were fighting mostly the Americans and the Australians, but ‘freedom’ for the lands conquered by the Japanese wasn’t even on the table. After a brief respite, almost all the conquered nations were handed back to their former colonial masters. And the reason that most of the other countries of Asia were so weak that the Japanese military just walked right over them was that the Western powers had deliberately kept them so, to prevent rebellions against Western slavemasters and overseers. Free people, with access to modern weaponry, are a rather more difficult nut to crack.”

“You’re starting to sound like the ‘preparedness’ people yourself, aren’t you?” Nakia said.

She replied, “Not at all. I’m in favor of a weak military, much weaker than those of most nations even today, and strong police forces under local control to handle routine criminal matters, with a regulated militia, armed citizens under strict controls and training requirements, as backup in emergencies. I’m not in favor of free access to guns and other weaponry by any crêtin with an itchy trigger finger, nor handguns at all, really. More important to a militia these days are anti-tank and anti-aircraft weapons, and a ready supply of assault rifles and sabotage gear, none of which are terribly useful for ‘sticking up’ the local bank. It’s the business of the police to protect your home from criminals, for the most part, and the business of citizens to protect the country as a whole, first by ensuring its benign footprint in other people’s lives, so those other peoples don’t hate you, which implies and requires the freedom of the citizenry, and second by defending the nation in times of danger, either from within or without.”

Nakia laughed, “Now I see what you’re driving at! You’re an anarchist!”

“Of course. Isn’t everyone?” she said simply. “We all live, at least in free countries, in a practical anarchy. We rarely run into a situation where we encounter the police, except perhaps socially; we regulate our own behavior, for the most part, because people are decent and kind, on the whole, enough so that criminals are very rare, and most people have probably never interacted with one, nor come within shouting distance. We function under a flexible system of ‘natural authority’ untrammeled by artificial hierarchies. You, Nakia, and Edith too, are basically police officers with a specialized community outreach mission. When you arrived, Nakia, you didn’t seek out the Canadian Defense Forces for help or authority, but the Canadian Coast Guard and the local office of the RCMP. I suspect that the coöperation showed you was rather informal and ad hoc, since that’s how police forces work together. No matter who you work for and protect, you’re all basically on the same side, preserving order and safety for ordinary citizens, so police forces are mostly interested in getting the job done, both legally and effectively, without the posturing that characterizes most national efforts. When you spoke to the orcas, neither of you named yourselves as Generals or Commandants, but as simple Protectors, which I believe reflects your own inner feelings and natures. I intend to help you protect the world.”

“Sa’aan, I don’t mean to insult you, but you’re just one individual, and still only fifteen years old. How are you going to take on such a huge job all by yourself?” Nakia spoke, but from the expressions on the faces of all those around the pool, she spoke for many, if not all of them. Leana was the only one clearly on Sa’aan’s side.

“Well,” she said, “to paraphrase the words of a very old song, I plan to get by with a little help from my friends. The orcas expect that I’ll succeed, because they’ve been waiting for me to come along for approximately nine hundred and four years, give or take a few months. They’re very patient, it seems, and I think they must have had a little help from some very powerful friends.”

The astonished looks they gave her, even Leana, were priceless. Sa’aan smiled to herself and thought, Check….

Chapter Ten — To the Ends of the Earth

Now that Sa’aan had their attention, she pressed her advantage. Singling out Nakia as a key element in her strategy, she explained her nascent theory with a view toward enlisting her help, “And no, I haven’t turned into a megalomaniac. The orca matriarch told me so, as simply and without exaggeration as if she’d described waiting for a flivver at a public stand. After some thought about this, I’ve concluded that one or more groups of the large cetaceans have been actively affecting our recent history. I have no proof of this, and essentially no idea how to go about discovering the mechanism by which this is done, but there’s a huge hole in my perception of the history of the world and the pattern I see implies a powerful player at the center of the void. Just as I deduced the lesser involvement of the Japanese criminal gangs in the attacks on my family, I now see a strange pattern in the total story of the events leading up to the development of Chimeric Adaptation Syndrome and the human population crash. I need Nakia’s assistance to help me investigate further, since she has the most raw power and demonstrated ability to access cetacean minds. In short, I’d like to send an embassy to the large whales and, if my theory is true, they’ll be expecting me. I’d like Nakia, at least, to come with me.”

Nakia laughed and said, “So you weren’t entirely kidding about being ambassador to the court of Neptune, were you? How long do you think this will take and what do you need in the way of support?” She didn’t sound dismissive at all, which was good, and had chosen a chair near the pool, as if she was settled in for a conversation, which was even better.

Sa’aan answered immediately, “No more than a week, I think, and possibly much less. A seaworthy boat; cold-water scuba gear for you and anyone else who goes along; food, water, and other supplies for a week, nothing more. This isn’t a major expedition, but more of a neighborly visit. The orca matriarch said that the whales are aware of me and will be stopping by at their convenience, so my strategy is basically to make myself available, with a little help nearby if need be. I also hope to use your telepathic abilities if I can, especially since both you and Edith were able to connect to my great grandmother to some degree. If Edith or you have any satellite sightings of whales in the area, that might be a help as well, but satellite coverage seems unlikely to reveal much of any real value.”

Edith spoke for the first time since Sa’aan’s announcement, “Agreed. It’s a big ocean and whales, as large as they are, remain tiny specks in that immensity. But it’s worth at least an automated search of the recent telemetry. We might get lucky.” She dropped out of the circuit and began some private business from where she stood a little ways back from the pool.

“As soon as possible,” she answered. “This evening would be good, so we could be out to sea by morning, but early tomorrow would be fine, if Nakia and Edith can arrange the logistics.”

Sa’aan tried to reassure her, “I’m afraid so, but I’ll see to it that you don’t miss anything. After seeing how easily we were able to communicate without BioLyncs when you went to the hospital, I think I’ll be able to keep in touch with you more directly than BioLyncs allow, and that way you can also make sure Mom and Dad are kept well in the loop.”

Leana continued, a worried look crossing her visage, “Seriously though, what if you get hurt and need healing or something?” She was hopping back and forth in frustration, having tossed her crutch aside in a fit of pique.

Sa’aan wasn’t terribly anxious about this possibility. “Not to worry, Leana. As long as I’m conscious, I can probably heal myself, and if I’m unconscious, I’d be in more trouble than even you could handle, since I wouldn’t be able to breathe. I don’t foresee any danger at all, since I’m just calling on our distant cousins in a friendly sort of way, and most of the large whales around these parts eat nothing larger than shrimp. The most dangerous critter I’m likely to encounter is me.”

Her father looked at her with a strange expression and asked, “When you referred to the steps leading up to the so-called Chimeric Plague, exactly what did you mean?”

Sa’aan chose her words carefully, “Well, Dad, as you well know, we haven’t been able to fully account for the rapidity with which the syndrome spread throughout the world, despite many attempts to identify a specific cause or origin.”

Her father nodded. “Agreed. After the initial paranoia and panic, during which the authorities attempted to fix the blame on ‘terrorists,’ as they did so many unrelated events in those violent days, more rational theories were carefully explored, but our best scientific evidence now appears to confirm, more or less, what many scientists in those early years had offered as speculation, that our loading of the Earth’s biosphere with genetically modified organisms and random mutagenic agents had reached a tipping point at which the spontaneous evolution of a particular set of viral agents brought on the onset of Chimerism as we know it today.”

Sa’aan answered immediately, “That’s the standard theory, the one I was taught a rough outline of in my history classes, but there’s a problem with this scenario, and the minor variations of it being investigated now, not so much in how they play out today, but in the actual ætiology of the original disease.”

“How so?” Leana asked curiously. She’d picked up her crutch by then and was standing near Sa’aan’s right pectoral fin, her back toward the bluff and facing out toward Sa’aan and English Bay.

“In the first place, whoever heard of a ‘contagious’ mutation before Chimes? And in the case of an ordinary disease,” Sa’aan said, “we’d expect to see an initial locus of infection, spreading from there throughout the world as a stable and non-lethal variant developed, but the actual Chimeric infections seemed to appear everywhere at once, so early efforts to control the spread of the disease through quarantines were useless. In addition, even in the early twenty-first century there were large areas of the world which were relatively free of genetically-modified crops and animals, yet the infections seemed to appear in these areas just as rapidly as they did everywhere else. Yet another problem is that the putative spontaneous mutations were relatively benign, despite the horrendous loss of life in the first few decades. When you look at the actual records from back then, it seems to have been primarily medical systems failures and lack of appropriate modern care that killed people, not the syndrome itself. If it had been a completely random major mutation of a single strand of genetic material, much less multiple strands, the chances of any individual’s survival would have been vanishingly small, but so many mutations took place simultaneously, involving up to ten to fifteen percent or more of an individual’s entire genetic signature, adding to the theoretical lethality of the syndrome, that survival should have been impossible. But instead, these ‘random’ changes compensated for each other, actually decreasing total morbidity. Among other improbabilities, the fortuitous introduction of the genetic mechanisms for radical metamorphosis which allow the development of extreme Chimerism, such as mine — with selective resorption and redevelopment of entire organ systems — beggars the imagination and defies rational explanation. Mammalian morphogenesis was pretty much a one-way street until the advent of Chimeric adaptation, but now, during transition, we resorb and generate entire new body structures with all the facility of flatworms.”

Edith objected, “But the current thinking is that this was purely happenstance, as random as the fact that our planet didn’t happen to coalesce from the cosmic dust and gas right next to a blue giant due to become a supernova in the next ten million years or so. We got lucky, is all. Metamorphosis is a known characteristic of many non-mammalian organisms, so it’s not impossible that this capability could have transfered to humans and other mammals along with all the other mutated and transferred genetic traits.”

Sa’aan riposted quickly, “Even if that had been true, and I believed it myself before I really started thinking about it, there are still problems. If the actual cause was random mutagens in the environment, why aren’t similar random excursions taking place today? The supposed environmental mutagens are still there, floating around, but they no longer seem to have any particular effect other than those one would expect from ordinary genetic processes, an increase in cancers and other genetic disorders. And in yet another ‘happy accident,’ the chimeric syndrome magically allows most of those who contract such diseases, even at conception and birth, to recover on their own, restoring a more or less idealized genetic template without these induced defects, and a healer can often accelerate the process for those in immediate danger. How can induced instability in the genome and epigenome actually work to increase overall stability? In a billion trials, shoveling buckets of broken crockery off the top of a tall building won’t result in one shattered plate being restored to its original condition when it reaches the pavement, yet the morbidity of environmental cancers, and auto-immune disorders such as systemic lupus erythematosus, multiple sclerosis, myasthenia gravis, and pernicious anemia, to name but a few, disappeared almost overnight.”

Sa’aan continued, “Since those initial infections, after a short period of ‘hunting’ in which the complex of interrelated changes in our genetic profile ‘settled down,’ the new equilibrium has been remarkably stable and predictable.”

“So much so,” Nakia observed dryly, “that medical supplies can be laid on in advance, and we have a standard ‘transition pack’ available for those who fall ill. You can buy them without prescription at any pharmacy, or even grocery stores and hotel gift shops, as ubiquitous and unobtrusive as aspirin or bicarbonate of soda. Even in your case, Sa’aan, the most pressing problem lay in providing enough of what we already knew was necessary — and maintaining your respiration of course — but most parents are so sanguine about their transitioning children now that they make a note to call in at the doctor’s office sometime after the fireworks are over and it’s convenient for them. Medical emergencies like yours are very rare.”

“For which I,” Sa’aan said mildly, “am very grateful, since we had a bunch of people skilled in such matters just sitting around waiting for a challenge when I needed loads of them at once.”

“As are we all,” her father agreed, “and we’re very proud of both our daughters, but we really ought to dispense with further reminiscence and proceed to saving the world with all deliberate speed.”

Sa’aan tried to get back on track to her original point. “Right! So anyway, the precise timing of this supposed string of accidents is equally anomalous. The human population crashed just before the rapid collapse of the Antarctic and Greenland ice sheets caused the loss of most of the coastal farming regions of the world and desertification of the tropics and mid-latitudes brought our pre-chimeric agricultural system to its knees.”

Edith objected again, walking over to the side of the pool and peering down at Sa’aan, as if there were some secret hidden in her eyes. “I’m not sure how that matters, Sa’aan. People were going to die anyway, so what difference did it make if they died during failed transition, or starved later?”

“You’re forgetting, too,” Nakia interjected, “that humans seem to have experienced the most drastic changes. It’s as if — now that I think of it — the syndrome was tailor-made for us, which would tend to prove your point.”

Sa’aan had forgotten the latter point, but made up for it with a quick search of the available scientific literature while Nakia finished speaking. “Not entirely customized, I think, but made compassionately never-the-less.” She gathered together many threads on the fly, “According to what I can find on the Net, the other animals, those less able to provide care for a transitioning adolescent, have less spectacular changes, and most experience, as far as the scientists know, little if any period of extended helplessness, or else transition in the womb, where the necessities of life are provided for, in which case their overall gestational growth doesn’t deviate too widely from their species norms, so that the mother too survives the act of giving birth.”

“Of course! They’d have to be!” Leana cried. “Any other pattern would have led to even more mass extinctions than occurred due to habitat disappearance caused by global warming. And some of the changes might almost have been designed to help ensure survival, like the introduction of wings saved many non-avian mountaintop species, or enhanced drought tolerance allowed some species to cross, or even inhabit, the new deserts.”

“Not only that,” Nakia added thoughtfully, “but pregnancy itself appears to prevent transition — in human mothers at least — until well after giving birth. In going on a century and a half of experience, we’ve never had even a single such case that made it into the literature. There was a flurry of research in the early days, trying to find a ‘cure’ along those lines, but there was no regime of pre-transition hormones and drugs which achieved any effect at all, much less reliable prevention.” Seeing that people were staring at her, she hastened to add, apologetically, “I’m a weak healer, and took pre-med courses in high school and during my first years at university. Also, I did a lot of reading throughout my first pregnancy especially. I was curious and a little bit frightened.”

“Thank heavens for that!” Edith gushed. “I was beginning to think that you’d suddenly developed Sa’aan’s trick of doing a week’s online research while the rest of us are still blinking in amazement at her last pronouncement.”

Sa’aan felt defensive, sullenly saying, “Hey! I didn’t ask to be speeded up like this. It’s a little difficult on my end as well.”

“Mei-mei, don’t be a pill!” Leana said sternly. “You know as well as I do the overwhelming effect you had on people, even before you transitioned. And you’ve gotten even more disconcerting for ordinary mortals to handle without periodic sedation and ongoing reparative therapy since then. We’re all used to you, since your recent changes only added to what you already were, and Nakia has had a little time to accustom herself to the idea that you’re a human

Sa’aan was outraged, “You’ve been reading my antique comics collection!”

Leana wasn’t at all perturbed by Sa’aan’s outburst, “Of course I have, you twit. You’re hard enough to understand without access to the source code, as it were. Who else actually reads those things but you? We’ve all read them, very carefully, wearing cotton gloves and surgical masks, taking care to reintroduce your humidity-controlled atmosphere back into your little vault when we were done. We love you, you perfectly

Sa’aan’s father shrugged his shoulders, but made no move to speak and her mother looked at him with such love and pride in her countenance that Sa’aan was deeply abashed and contrite. She’d been astonished by the vehemence of her sister’s rebuke, but belatedly acknowledged the justice in it. For what seemed like the thousandth time, she resolved never again to be a baka sagwa and to make amends.

“I’m sorry, Jie-jie. Your point, dear sister, was well made and is taken in all humility. I’m not nearly as smart as you all seem to think I am, you know. I know lots and lots of facts about lots of things but very little about people, especially adult people. I’m still just a kid in many ways, and I apologize for my rude behavior to you, Edith, and to all of you. I’m quite sure, based on past experience, that I’ll be foolish again, but I’m really trying to do better.

“You’re doing fine, Sa’aan,” Edith temporized. “I was being insensitive as well. It’s just that I’ve never met anyone even remotely like you and it makes me feel a bit overwhelmed and intimidated sometimes. I’m sorry I spoke off the top of my head without taking your own feelings into account. I know better, and should probably recite Coué’s self-improvement exhortation a few hundred times myself.”

“It’s alright,” she replied. “Don’t worry about it. I’m over it already, and actually had a great deal of trouble stopping myself from laughing out loud when Leana described the construction subcontractors as a sort of all-dancing, all-singing, corps de ballet.”

“Now that’s the sister I know and love!” Leana laughed. “She may mope around from time to time, but she always comes up with a good attitude in the end.”

Sa’aan was embarrassed now, and tried to recover the thrust of her argument, “Yes, well, anyway, taken one at a time, none of these ‘happy accidents’ are terribly disturbing, but the series of so many unlikely events, affecting primarily humans, although every mammalian organism was affected to some degree, and some few others, simultaneously as far as we can tell, and in every area of the world at once, is very strange indeed and all at precisely the right time to avoid armed conflict.”

Leana said excitedly, “That’s it! So the weakened nation states left after the initial fatalities weren’t really capable of sustained military actions, including attempts to ensure access to the shrinking resource pie using nuclear and other weapons, and didn’t need as many resources to survive anyway, because their populations were drastically reduced to less than a tenth of their former numbers, in some areas far less.” She seemed quite pleased with her deduction.

“Exactly,” Sa’aan confirmed. “And because Chimerism preferentially affects adolescents and young adults, the population cohort most needed by the military died first, leaving the very young and the old to keep things going until the most vulnerable genetic types, both young and old, were eliminated, effective medical therapies were devised, and people started to survive. The total effect was as devastating and confusing as a few hand grenades thrown into a crowded restaurant. People panicked. Those left alive hunkered down behind barricades, afraid to come into contact with anyone. Governments closed their borders and any troops on foreign soil who were still healthy were immediately recalled to protect their own borders. The governments of the world were unable to mount truly coördinated actions of any sort for many decades, the critical decades, as it turned out, that allowed humanity to survive, and slowed the progress of global warming sufficiently that, once things settled down, we were able to slow it even further through deliberate actions on many fronts.”

Leana continued more thoughtfully, “And you think the sum total of these seeming coïncidences suggests an intelligent organization of some sort behind them?”

Sa’aan said calmly, “The probability is very high, I think. In the normal course of events, as the world was constituted back then, military confrontations and wars would have erupted all over the globe as resources dwindled, and indeed many already had, as countries scrambled to increase their power and influence in critical areas of the globe, with increasing danger of nuclear conflicts resulting in devastating effects on the environment, perhaps even the extinction of humanity and much of the rest of the multicellular biosphere.” She paused for dramatic effect.

“But with the great majority of humans dead or dying, a very convenient peace descended on the world which has lasted, more or less, to this day. And as the pièce de résistance, to top off all the other things Chimerism did to us, we’re all cross-fertile, despite incredible differences incorporated into our genetic material, and the Chimeric transitions are stable across generations, somehow sorting themselves even more reliably than gender across incredibly unlikely pairings, so I was very similar to my Dad, and Leana was very similar to Mom, with no admixture of characteristics whatsoever, despite my Dad being a poikilotherm and Mom being a homeotherm. Ordinarily, the only things that behave like that are the XX and XY pairings in mammals, but we know that Chimerism affects almost every gene. Somehow everything is magically sorted out in fertilization. Oh! And Chimerism affected our overall fertility. Very few people, whether overtly hybridized or not, are able to have more than two or three children these days — and even that upper limit is usually met by the mothers carrying multiple fetuses during at least one of the pregnancies — barely above replacement, so we look set to keep to our current small footprint on the planet well into the foreseeable future.”

There was a lengthy silence, while everyone let this thought sink in, then Edith said, “And you’re saying that this proves some sort of ‘intelligent design?’ for lack of a better phrase.”

“I think so, yes,” Sa’aan concluded. “Granted that a concerted effort by a team of gifted healers today, using the very best massively parallel nanoprocessors and AI-mediated accelerated pruning algorithms, might possibly have been able to develop some of these mutations from scratch, it should have been impossible back then to accomplish even one, much less all of them at once. In my own case, my brain was completely redesigned while preserving, as far as I know, the entirety of my memories and personality. Where and how do synaptic connections survive while the brain itself is being rebuilt from scratch? As far as we know, the first truly powerful healers appeared many decades after the initial infections, and you’d undoubtedly need the ability to manipulate genetic material in real time in order to succeed. The genetic science of those days simply wasn’t capable of such sophisticated manipulation of the global genome and epigenome, nor was there sufficient processing power available, even in the governmental processing centers dedicated to spying on other governments, much less medical and academic computing facilities, to handle the computations involved. The most reasonable explanation is that we were bred for these traits and then culled, decimated as dispassionately as a farmer slaughters excess cattle before a turn in the weather makes it necessary, leaving just the breeding stock, although other explanations are within the bounds of possibility.”

Nakia whispered, wonderingly, “So it wasn’t us that caused Chimeric Adaptation Syndrome.”

“No, not directly, unless Professor X and the X-Men were somehow involved, or perhaps Superman and Brainiac.” Here, she paused for a brief sidelong glance at Leana, which she supposed nobody noticed since her inconspicuous dark eyes weren’t well-designed to convey subtle reproach. “But all these individuals would seem to be highly unlikely culprits, since they’re only comic book characters, but not much more unlikely than impossibly clever but fanatical terrorists who managed either to kill themselves through sheer stupidity before making their demands, or were too modest to take credit for their accomplishments. Neither do greedy pharmaceutical scientists make much sense, who filled the entire world with a potpourri of proteins and genetic material that performed completely astonishing tricks in the twinkling of an eye and then somehow disappeared before garnering half a dozen Nobel Prizes and at least fleeting fame. Where are the laboratories in which these things were developed?

“Mightn’t it have been some sort of secret government laboratory?” Edith asked. “No one ever bothered to dig out Cheyenne Mountain after the second American revolution, or many of the other military and governmental nuclear-blast-proof sites that proved all too vulnerable to simple assault with high explosives by an enraged and determined populace.”

Sa’aan thought for a moment, and conducted an extensive Net search to marshall her facts, before replying, “I don’t think so. If anyone were really that clever back then, somebody would either have noticed the remnants of their work or spilled the beans by now. My only viable alternatives are flying saucer people or the whales. I’m not particularly fond of the saucer hypothesis, since it multiplies entities beyond necessity, and they’ve never managed to leave a calling card.”

Sa’aan agreed, “Precisely. Of course, the whales would have been excluded for the same reason until very recently, but they now appear to be players on the global stage, according to my great grandmother at least. I have no reason to doubt her, and am fairly sure that the orcas couldn’t do it, so the whales appear to be the most likely group to be involved. The orcas, and I suspect the whales, have all the ruthlessness required, and see themselves as ‘shepherds of the seas’ in any case, so extending their respective fields of concern to the land isn’t a huge leap of faith. The only problem is that I don’t know how they did it, and why they don’t seem to be doing anything coherent right now. I’m hoping that it will become clear if I can talk to one.”

“Not at all,” Sa’aan protested. “We’re pursuing the most obviously productive line of inquiry in a critical investigation. Despite the lack of unambiguous evidence, the logical inference from what little I know — or guess — points to the whales, or some other entity of whom the whales might well be aware, or with whom they might be associated.”

Sa’aan’s father asked, “Do you have any idea what the purpose and scope of this intervention might be?”

Sa’aan replied firmly, despite her own uncertainty, “My great grandmother is of the opinion that there is an effort afoot that has been in progress for almost a thousand years. Its object seems to be healing the world and its œcology, on a time scale impossible for any present human society and assuming facts and relationships that weren’t known by any human when the effort began. Further, a part of this plan involved arranging for the appearance of an orca/human Chimera on the stage — which is to say, me, or someone very like me. This is, I think, impossible for any human to have predicted or arranged at any time, much less in the early years of the last millennium, although I don’t doubt that our inadvertent meddling with the environment may have accelerated the timescale, either by supplying more raw materials or by introducing variables which had to be compensated for through improvisation.”

Sa’aan didn’t actually know what this odd name referred to, but an instant’s search on the net revealed the antique literary reference, so she answered Edith’s question without a noticeable pause, “Much more personally involved, I think, since they live here too, but beyond that, I don’t really know. What I do know is that my great grandmother knows detailed stories about Archimedes, and was capable of extrapolating from those stories, which presumably contained some sort of oral voice record, what he was talking about two and a half millennia before she was born, and to reason her way from her observations of my vocal interactions with other humans and her own interactions with me, whom she could actually understand, to a good approximation of fluent English within a few days of knowing me. So orcas, at least, can retain coherent culture and knowledge over millennia, a cetacean ability I assume didn’t originate with them, which means that the whales are looking pretty good for the doers of this extended deed. I’m guessing that at least some whales are, or were, capable of genetic manipulation, which means that they were the first healers, but I don’t know why they don’t seem to be capable of anything like it today.”

Nakia looked across the bay to the verdant mountains beyond, and then said, “I have to admit that this intrigues me.” She looked carefully at Sa’aan, and then to Edith, evidently in private communication with her Canadian counterpart before speaking again to Sa’aan, “So let’s go find a whale. Edith, do you want to come along on this little errand?”

“I would,” Edith answered reluctantly, “and I think I can speed things up. It’s more than a hundred and fifty nautical miles from here to the open ocean, which is where you’re most likely to find whales this time of year. If you leave now, you can probably travel the distance by morning, and I can furnish a high-speed pursuit boat out of Victoria to meet you there. For greatest efficiency, I’d recommend that Nakia and I get to Victoria by air, pick up the boat and one or two people for crew, and then rendezvous at whatever convenient point you choose. Sa’aan, how fast can you travel at speed?”

“Twenty-six knots with ease, somewhat faster if I push. Can you supply a few fish along the way? I can go faster if I don’t have to hunt down breakfast.”

Edith smiled. “I believe that can be arranged, Sa’aan. Hang on a bit.” She went off-line for a moment and then said, “I’ve arranged for fifty kilograms of live salmon to be available one fifth of a nautical mile due north of the Active Pass Lighthouse on the northern tip of Mayne Island, just before you enter the pass, with another fifty kilos available one nautical mile due east of Discovery Island Lighthouse off Victoria, where we’ll rendezvous. I’ll have a hundred kilos of salmon delivered to Neah Bay, a small seacoast village on the north end of the Olympic Peninsula in Washington Province, and it will be ferried to a point two nautical miles to the northeast of Cape Flattery Lighthouse sometime tomorrow, depending on how things go on the way.”

Nakia answered jubilantly, “Excellent. That’s what we’ll do then.”

Sa’aan said cheerily, “Sounds good to me as well. A hundred and ninety miles is roughly eight hours of swimming for me, counting stops for snacks, and it will be getting light around 6:30 tomorrow morning, so I should leave here no later than ten this evening, which gives us a little time to plan.”

At which news, Sa’aan’s father beamed and said, “In that case, I’ll go put on a little something for supper. We’ll dine by the pool. Sa’aan, would you mind loaning us one or two of your salmon?”

Her father chuckled, “I must have forgotten to tell you. There’s an ærated tank of several hundred pounds of live fish in the second storage shed. We didn’t know how quickly you’d be able to catch your own meals, or even if you wanted to spend the time and energy, and wanted to be prepared. Things have been so hectic, they completely slipped my mind. The tank has an attachment that feeds them automatically, so they should be fresh and healthy, if perhaps a little cramped for space.”

Sa’aan replied, “In that case, of course. Take as many as you like. I wouldn’t mind a few of them myself.”

Her mother spoke formally, “Nakia, Edith, I’m pleased to offer the hospitality of our home to you and to your associates, allowing both of you the flexibility to arrange their leisure schedules as you see fit.”

Edith spoke, nodding graciously, “Thank you, Eileen. I’m sure I speak for Nakia in assuring you that we greatly appreciate it and won’t abuse your generosity. I know my crew would appreciate the occasional chance to sit down in comfort and take a break with a cup of tea or coffee.”

Nakia added with a smile, “And maybe a doughnut or sliver of pie from time to time. Once Edith’s crew gets here, we’ll work out the rotations and rough timetables so none of the people who’ll be guarding you until this current situation is resolved become overstressed.”

Her mother replied, “It’s no trouble at all. We even have a spare room, or two if Sa’aan doesn’t mind letting some of your people use her room, if any of them would like to bunk down here instead of traipsing back to a hotel in town. I hope you don’t plan to have them camp out on the beach all night.”

Nakia held up her hands dismissively, “No, not at all. Once we have the surveillance and intrusion network set up, one or two on watch and the others nearby will do fine, I think, and with Edith’s officers chipping in they’ll all have ample time to rest. We have two double rooms reserved at the nearest hotel in town, but I’ll certainly offer them the opportunity of staying with your family if any might prefer it. It would save them traveling back and forth, although they might also like to see a little bit of the area, as long as we’re here.”

“It’s settled, then. I’ll have fresh linens on the beds by sundown. Sa’aan, can we use your room? All your things are there and accessible, since we thought you might like to use your remotes to access them.”

“Of course. The only thing I’ve needed to access is my computer, and I haven’t actually looked at it, but I deduced that you’d kept at least some of my stuff when I was able to log into my files. Thank you for taking care of it all, but I’m finding that those things don’t mean quite as much to me anymore.”

Her mother said gently, “Well, they still mean a lot to your father and I, but I can understand your need to put aside some of the trappings of a former life, now that you’re almost an adult. Leana, do you feel spry enough to help me with the preparations for our guests?”

“Of course. It takes more than a fractured femur to keep me down for long. Sa’aan did a great job with the initial healing, and the doctors and healers from the provincial health service have been amazing. I expect to be rid of the cast in a day or two.”

Sa’aan had a thought, “Leana, please don’t forget to unpack my woodrats when they arrive tomorrow. They should be here by ten in the morning, and all you’ll have to do is release them, as my system here has their EUI addresses and is listening for them to announce themselves so it can initiate secure transactions to capture them.”

“Extended Unique Identifier, it’s a geek term of art for their raw BioLync address.”

Sa’aan had a ready answer for that, “Because you can’t actually call them and ask them anything. Their onboard AIs aren’t all that clever, so a lot of the smarts that runs them is externally-supplied. They’re clever enough to do what they’re told and have basic surveillance routines built-in, but my own processors have to coördinate their activities if I want them to do more than count squirrels and take periodic weather observations. I’m using them for things not covered in the owner’s manual, so I have to be a little creative in how I access their tiny brains.”

“Well, they’re actually œcological field study remote sensors with an onboard AI, but I’ve coöpted them as spies. They’ll disperse on their own to cover the entire bluff and the area around the house, out to a perimeter approximately a quarter mile, or four hundred meters, distant. I have them set to gather sound information, mostly, although they do have visual, infrared, and ultraviolet sensors that I can access on demand. Their ears, a phased-array of cellular microphones really, are quite sophisticated, and can localize any sounds or echoes of sounds they hear to within fifteen minutes of arc or less, and I have them all feeding simultaneously into an array processor that will create a four-dimensional representation of the entire area, which will be available as a holographic passive sonar vid that can be transmitted directly to me through the pair of BioLync transceivers I don’t normally use. Since there are so many of them, the system as a whole will be able to ‘see’ around corners and the woods will be essentially transparent to them. There are alerting routines, of course, that use an outboard AI to identify anything that looks, or sounds, like a human being and send off a BioLync instant notice to me, so I can take a look and decide what sort of threat is presented, if any, and take appropriate actions as needed. I can have the system notify your agents at the same time, if you’d like, and I’ve already told the outboard AIs to keep track of them but refrain from raising the alarm as they move about. I’ll set it up to send them a two-D visual projection of the three-D sound vid on demand, so they can see where the possible threats are coming from. It’s a pretty simple system, so it’s easy to modify, and it would be interesting to see how my cobbled-together system compares with your professional one.”

Nakia stared at her before saying, “You did all this, literally overnight, just by having them listen to noises?”

“Well, yes; but my brain processes similar inputs directly, so the algorithms I used suggested themselves to me as pretty simple, since I could handle some of the back-end processing on my own, and the same general array detection system is used in neutrino detectors, so I didn’t have to invent that either. A lot of the design notes are in the public domain, so it was mostly engineering, with only a bit of invention. And that reminds me, Dad? I’d like to request permission to install a wide swath of gravel around the house. I have some yardbots arriving to keep it all neat and tidy if you agree, or I can use them for sentry duty if not, but the gravel would make it very difficult for anyone to approach through the grounds or over the bluff without being heard by my sensors. I got the idea from the old Japanese castles, which used a similar defense against stealthy intruders. The Ninjas were supposed to have special techniques that allowed them to walk on gravel quietly, but no sneaky human technique can keep my rats from hearing them unless they come in by parachute, and I have my airship on station to guard against that.”

Her father looked bemused for a moment before nodding, “That seems reasonable to me; your mother and I have always liked Zen gardens, so perhaps we can eventually incorporate your gravel into something quite striking. Is that all right with you, dear?” He glanced to Sa’aan’s mother for confirmation.

Sa’aan complained morosely, “I know, but I do feel guilty; if it weren’t for me, you’d still be safe back in Campanella.”

Her father objected forcefully, “Feh! I never liked Campanella. I loathed it. It was just a place I worked. I know Leana hated it too, but at the time I had no choice. Classics, however vital for the full development of the youthful mind, is not one of the glamorous departments which compete vigorously for the best scholars using extravagant salaries, lavish perquisites, and extraördinary support for advanced research — at least in the RSA — although Classical Chinese has a certain panache since China became the world’s only remaining superpower. Neither, if you’ll pardon my saying so, my dearest Eileen, is English. Most people have very little occasion to read anything more complicated than a restaurant menu or a subway schedule nowadays. Sa’aan, your transition was a blessing for us all, not a curse. My work at the Polyversity here is far more important than babysitting spoiled children who need an elective or two in the humanities to graduate, and I’m receiving a far more generous salary, as will your mother when she eventually returns to classes, and both her students and mine will surely have future leaders and scholars numbered among them. It’s a pleasure for me to walk into the lecture hall now to greet those eager young minds already passionately involved in scholarship, for me at least a reward long anticipated. Even our sweet Leana has stopped sulking around and mooning over vids of exotic destinations, because this is where the future is being made, right here, not in some cloistered enclave in the mountains louring over the great midwestern desert like a vulture contemplating the bleaching bones of what was once the agricultural center of the world. It’s here on the coasts that we fully confront what we did to our Earth and make our stand, to come to terms with a finite Creation and make reparations for all the harm we’ve done or perish. These Purists, even these murderous thugs, they’re only gnats whining around us and an annoying distraction, but not the central point. The main thrust of our opportunity here is that you’ve uncovered a hitherto unknown portion of the many damages to the Earth we’ve inflicted upon it in our greed and ignorance, and now we have the chance to make it right. So let’s get on with it and start healing our little part of the world! What are we waiting for?

Sa’aan could only stare in amazement at this outburst, and she noticed that Leana and her mother were looking at him very strangely, until her mother smiled and took his hand. He took it, and another strange look passed between them.

It was close to two in the morning when Sa’aan finally cleared the long crooked path between Galiano and Mayne Islands, just past two fifteen when she’d navigated the passage between Saltspring and North Pender, and on south past Moresby and Stuart Islands, leaving Albert Point Lighthouse to the left. The low slopes of San Juan Island were to her left and the Saanich Peninsula north of Victoria loomed on the right. She could see the Discovery Island Light already. and was looking forward to a late night snack, since she was feeling a little peckish, even after her nice little nosh back off the northern tip of Mayne Island. She’d been swimming fast and burning up calories at a great rate. She was also a little tired, since she couldn’t afford to let either half of her brain doze off at speed. She gave Nakia a call, “Hey, Nakia! I’m just coming out of the Haro Strait and can see Discovery Island Light. Are you there?”

She answered immediately, “We both are, and a few good seafarers for captain and crew.”

Sa’aan was very pleased, “Jing-tsai! I’m about ten nautical miles away, so I should be seeing you soon.”

Nakia laughed. “We’re awfully hard to miss. After due consideration, Edith decided to borrow a small Coast Guard Cutter, the CCGS

Edith spoke airily, “It’s only thirty-two meters, what we call a mid-shore patrol vessel. It’s usually used for search and rescue, customs work, and research, although it does go out on fisheries enforcement duties from time to time, up to a hundred and twenty nautical miles offshore, according to the Captain, but he swears that he wouldn’t mind sailing it around the world. The Canadian Coast Guard isn’t connected with the military at all, so some parts of it are more like the RCMP, a national naval police force nowadays, as well as their traditional search and rescue and fisheries divisions. And you’ll be pleased to know that we managed to find room on deck for an ærated tank containing five hundred kilograms of live salmon, so you won’t have to waste any time foraging for your supper, at least for a week or so, and we won’t have to put in for replenishment for quite a bit.”

Sa’aan hesitated, thirty-two meters was a hundred and four feet, which she thought was enormous. She’d visualized something a little bigger than a rowboat of course, but not nearly the size of the box on a professional football pitch. Finally, she said, “Well, if you’re sure you aren’t putting anyone to too much trouble….”

Nakia chided her, “Sa’aan, don’t be silly. I hauled myself and five security officers across the country at sub-orbital speeds, arranged for helicopters and surveillance gear and whatnot, all on the strength of your word. Please don’t make a fuss about borrowing a little boat. It’s a trifle, really, and Edith did all of the logistics, so it was no trouble at all for me, although I did have to give her the benefit of my sage advice from time to time.”

Sa’aan thought this last was probably a joke, which was confirmed when Edith responded.

Edith broke in laughing, having linked into the ongoing conversation, “Don’t you listen to her, Sa’aan! I worked my BioLync to a frazzle calling up the local Coast Guard office and asking for the loan of a ship! I must have been on hold for more than fifteen interminable seconds! I nearly died! Seriously though, she’s right. It was very little trouble. I asked for something smaller at first, but was convinced by our local commander that it would require a more powerful craft to fully ensure our safety if any weather blew up whilst we were out there, plus it made carrying everything we might need much easier. We’ll have a nice little launch available if the seas are calmish, but the safety of a snug berth and a seaworthy ship if not.”

Edith chortled. “That’s the spirit! I’ll have the Captain show a light in your general direction, and relay our exact position to your BioLync.”

Sa’aan saw the flare of a distant searchlight sweep the waves in her direction, and could easily distinguish the

Nakia laughed and said, “We can take a little time for a snack, I’m sure.”

Sa’aan’s first impression, on entering the open sea, was how different the motion of the water felt. The powerful slow swells coming in from the northwest had traveled all the way from the Gulf of Alaska and beyond, and she could feel the raw power that a fetch of thousands of miles could store in a standing wave. The varying pressures and movements pulsed against her skin and transmitted itself through her body, simultaneously exciting and calming her. The Georgia Strait, the Inland Sea, had seemed immense, but this was beyond description, the open ocean stretching away, away into haze, and the horizon spreading to the west and south beyond limit. Somewhere to the southwest lay Hawai‘i, and south by west Tahiti and Moorea. She felt a sudden desire to journey beyond that horizon and on into infinity.

The cutter, white sails stretched taut by a moderate fifteen knot breeze from the west, was rolling along in the whitecapped seas beside her, her planing hydrofoils unrigged and folded away to her sides, not quite a hundred feet away. She could see glimpses of Nakia and Edith at the rail, gazing out toward her as she surfed lazily through the swells and her eyes left the water. With her mental sight, of course, she could see them both without interruption, but the quality of perception was somehow different, less immediate but with much greater detail and scope.

Nakia spoke first, “Big, isn’t it?” She’d been silent, as had they all, since passing between the Cape Flattery and Carmanah lighthouses, the rough boundary between the relatively sheltered Strait of Juan de Fuca and the wide expanse of the Pacific Ocean.

Edith added, “Words fail me. I don’t often get out this way, and never on board a cutter. It’s very big and very fine. I passed above this region once, in an airship on my way north from Newport, Oregon, to Bella Coola, but it all seemed much more manageable from five thousand feet or more in the air. I only wish my wife were here to share it just now.”

Sa’aan exulted, “Well, I don’t know about you two, but this feels even more like coming home than it did in the Georgia Strait. I feel like going straight on till morning.”

Nakia caught the reference, of course, “But then you’d never grow up, would you? And you’re not Peter Pan; you’re

Sa’aan turned her gaze away from the unseen but fondly-imagined waters off Moorea and towards the two of them, saying, “You’re right, of course. It’s our job to see that they all grow up. But even Wendy loved Neverland for a while.”

“That she did,” Edith mused. “That she did. She was very young, and it made a nice holiday, but life goes on, eh? We’ve got our whales to find, and even Peter admitted that ‘one girl is more use than twenty boys.’ ” She turned to scan the horizon, as if one might appear at any second.

Unwilling to spoil her fun by pointing out that she could hear a whale much farther away than Edith could see one, Sa’aan simply asked, “Any luck with satellite imaging?”

Edith turned back toward her and shrugged, “Not a bit of it,” she replied cheerfully. “We’ll have to do it the hard way and start looking. I’ve asked the Captain to head north, as the early grey whales at least should be heading down to Mexico this time of year, so we have our best chance of finding one by navigating to meet them on their way south, although there are always a few grey whales around Vancouver Island.”

“There’s also the possibility of a humpback, or even a pod of sperm whales, especially toward the north of the island,” added Nakia, and then explained, “I’ve been doing a little research to pass the time aboard.”

Sa’aan didn’t think there were any sperm whales around, since she would have been able to hear their strong echolocation clicks from anywhere within two hundred kilometers or more. Humpbacks were also pretty noisy, and she couldn’t hear one of those either, so that left the greys, at least in the immediate neighborhood. For want of any better plan, she let loose a series of ranging clicks and then called out a challenge, or rather announced her presence in these waters. She listened for an answer, but there was none, so she responded to Nakia’s comment, “I don’t think there’s anyone around just now, but it’s a good thought. Most of the whales are in higher latitudes these days, as the tropical dead zones don’t contain enough fish and small invertebrates to support large predators. The sperm whales are able to dive deep enough to hunt the ocean trenches, but it takes a lot of prey to keep a carnivorous whale alive.”

Nakia said, “Well, Edith’s plan seems reasonable, since my net guidebooks say that the best whale watching is towards the north of Vancouver Island, and we’ll run across any who stay near the coast on their way south.”

“So we might as well enjoy the scenery,” Sa’aan agreed. “I wish I could hook up an interface to let me share my vision of the underwater topography. There’s an interesting range of underwater hills off to our right, I guess where the Juan de Fuca plate is slipping under the continental plate and eventually makes our Pacific Ranges and the Cascades further to the South.”

Edith piped up, “Not to mention causing volcanoes and earthquakes! We’ve had two or more small temblors a day lately, although most are too small to feel, at least in the Victoria and Vancouver area, but our geologic survey scientists say that the number of earthquakes has gradually increased in the past few hundred years, as our retreating glaciers have lightened the mountains enough that they’re rebounding slightly, and we’re probably due for increased volcanic and seismic activity all along the Canadian coast down to Mexico over the long haul. It’s not as dramatic as in Antarctica or Greenland, of course, but probably a taste of things to come for future generations.”

“Unless we can really turn things around soon….” Sa’aan added wistfully.

Nakia answered apologetically, “We’re working on it, dear, all over the world, but it’s very difficult. The oceans are still heating up — much more slowly now, but steadily — and the more volcanism in the changing Arctic and Antarctic regions, the more carbon dioxide in the atmosphere, so more ice melts, releasing pressure on the Antarctic and North American plates, and more volcanoes erupt. The more ice melted from the polar regions and mountains, the more solar radiation reaches the Earth’s surface and the cycle continues. We’re having a hard time keeping up, even with extensive carbon sequestration projects. The World Space Agency has floated a plan to construct a nanofilm solar shield at the

Nakia said with relative good cheer, “Well, it’s not nice to fool with Mother Nature, but we’re making research progress every day, and at least some of us will survive in the Lagrangian astronomical and scientific habitats at L4 and L5, and at the Mars colony on the south polar plateau if things get really rough, although solar radiation is a problem during Martian summers in that hemisphere.”

Sa’aan observed wryly, “Unfortunately, there are no satellite havens for people like me, and they’re not capacious enough for all of the six hundred million human inhabitants of Earth, nor even a fraction of the rest of our biosphere, the lack of any one of which might wind up killing us through some obscure dependency chain.”

“Good point,” Nakia admitted apologetically, “But we still have quite a few options, including installing nanofilm mirrors over large sections of the tropical deserts, although that might displace some solar generation facilities, releasing large quantities of reflective ærosols into the stratosphere to augment the natural stratospheric dust from volcanic eruptions and desert wind storms, or combinations of both strategies, all meant to push some of the solar influx back into space.”

Edith interjected, “Nakia’s right, Sa’aan. There’s always hope, and always more ideas just around the corner. There are still too many of us with the idea that we’re doomed, so they don’t bother doing anything other than what the law demands. We’re all of us, we three, out here in the middle of the ocean because we care about the world and are trying to do our part, even if all we can do is keep trying to perform well at our own little tasks in our own little bailiwicks, and even if I catch myself wondering if I’m making a fool of myself. We might well fail, but wouldn’t we look like total morons if we manage to kill ourselves and finally destroy the world through sitting on our duffs?”

In any context, including a desperate search for a putative whale conspiracy, today was a beautiful day, one she’d never dared to imagine before her fateful trip to Florida. She laughed when she thought of her wish back then to just see the ocean, any ocean, and here she was swimming on the edge of the biggest ocean of all, perfectly at home and at peace, all in all, with everything that had happened to her since she first saw the orcas. Be careful what you wish for, she murmured to herself. Your wish just might come true.

Sa’aan began to be aware of a sound at the limits of her hearing, growing gradually louder so imperceptibly that she couldn’t pin down when she’d first heard it. It was another orca swimming strongly, a male by the sound of him, coming fast from the north, about an hour away as far as she could tell. She told her companions, “We have company, but not a whale. It’s another orca, one I’ve never heard before, and he’s big.”

“A friendly one, I hope,” Edith chirped, “but how do you know it’s a male?”

Sa’aan reassured her, “I don’t think we have anything to worry about as far as aggression, since my orca great grandmother is the boss of these parts, and I’ve never heard of orcas having serious disagreements. And I can tell how big he is by the timing and sound of his swimming motions. Females don’t grow that large; ergo, he’s a male.”

Nakia laughed and said, “Sa’aan, you know I can’t actually recall ever having heard the word ‘ergo’ used in a sentence before. I keep forgetting that you’re still a young teenager. Have you always been this precocious?”

The question made Sa’aan less uncomfortable than such questions had done in the past for some reason, and she answered without apology and with good cheer, “Pretty much. I liked school, but it was incredibly boring most of the time. Some of my teachers were jing-tsai, though. My chemistry teacher, Mr. Williams, had a fascinating life outside of school and I used to stay after classes talking with him about chemistry and all sorts of stuff.” She laughed in remembrance. “He used to make faux ‘lemonade’ out of laboratory-grade citric acid and a little sugar as a treat, and then he had quite a collection of freeze-dried fruits and desserts. He was a mountain guide and packer during the summer holidays, as well as a leader for climbing expeditions, so he had a lot of stories to tell…,” her voice trailed off into silence.

Nakia spoke gently, “Sa’aan, I noticed you referred to him in the past tense. Did something happen to him?”

“Well, yes. He died in an air rescue operation over the weekend just before the end of my last term at middle school. He was a volunteer in Colorado Mountain Rescue, and was heading out to help some people who’d gotten into trouble on Capitol Peak, up in the Elks. Some other volunteers managed to save the tourists later, but three members of the original rescue team and the pilot were killed in the crash.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that, Sa’aan,” Nakia said sympathetically. “That must have been hard for you. It sounds like he was a good friend, taking so much time to chat with you and offer ‘scientific’ hospitality.”

“It was, but harder on his wife and children I reckon. We went to the funeral; Campanella is a small place, really, aside from the tourists and students, and he was well-liked around town.”

“Yeah.” She snorted, “They were in one of those silly veiled alcoves off to the side, but they came out after the talking parts of the memorial service were done to mingle with their friends. His wife was devastated, and the children, two twin daughters and a son, seemed mostly numb. It was the first time I’d really encountered death close up, where it affected someone I knew and liked.”

Nakia said, nodding, “I noticed that you seemed to admire the crew of the rescue copter. Does Mr. Williams have anything to do with that?”

“Yes, I think he does.” She thought about him for a while, which of course was entirely imperceptible to her listeners, and then answered, “Larry Williams, Lawrence I suppose, although I never heard anyone call him that. He was quite a guy. I liked him a lot. He had so much going for him, yet he was willing to risk his own life to help people in mortal danger, mostly through their own carelessness and stupidity. I know the risks for the volunteers were relatively minor, because they were trained and had the proper gear, but he didn’t die sitting in front of a vidscreen, like so many do. He was a mensch, a real human being. That’s why I like you, too. You put yourself on the line for people.”

Nakia smiled from her casual station at the rail, not so very far away. “Why, thank you, Sa’aan. I like you too. It’s pretty clear that you have those tendencies yourself, considering where we are right now. You have the perfect excuse to sit back and ask the adults around you to just take care of things, because you’re still relatively young, but here you are, doing what only you can do for all of us, when you could be just fooling around like most of the other high school students.”

Sa’aan didn’t reply immediately. She didn’t know what to say. She had a strong feeling, though, that she knew who the oncoming orca must be. She announced herself with her first approximation of her true name, including her new home range and relationship to her great grandmother, and then said to Nakia and Edith, “I think I’m about to do a little bit more. I suspect that the big orca is the part-human Chimera from Alaska, and I just let him know who I am, so we’ll soon find out exactly how friendly he is. He should be here in twenty minutes or less, because he just sped up considerably.”

“Well, this is turning out to be an interesting trip after all,” Edith said. “I was half afraid we’d be running round Robin’s barn out here while any whales actually interested in you would be coming down the Inland Passage.”

“It ought to be a treat,” Sa’aan agreed, “and I’d thought of that myself, but was fairly confident that the whales would enter from the South, based on the time of year and what I gathered from the historical records. I’d suggest that you have the Captain lower the launch, if you’d like to meet a previously unknown Chimera of some importance in person.” Sa’aan was beside herself with anticipation, as this was her first chance to talk to another orca Chimera, even if the transition had gone the other way.

Edith interjected, “And we might want to don our swimming gear, eh? I’ll tell the Captain at once. Oh! And I reckon I’d best notify Ottawa as well, though they won’t appreciate being out of the immediate loop once more. They read me the riot act over your not hanging around until their diplomat finally arrived.”

Nakia admonished her in a wry tone, “Not to worry, Edith, if they’re anything like our politicians, they’ll stage a press conference after everything has sorted itself out, and then claim that they were actually responsible for everything, since they had the wisdom and foresight to put you in charge of their great accomplishment.” She’d lowered her voice so much, when she’d mentioned who was actually in charge, that Edith’s credit was almost inaudible.

Edith laughed out loud, and then had trouble controlling herself, at which Nakia started laughing too. When Edith finally managed to speak, she said, “You have our PM to a Tee! Her every ‘we’ will reek of ‘I,’ even though she ought really to say ‘they,’ ” which set them both off again.

Sa’aan finally interjected, “Ladies! Calm yourselves! Our guest will be here in less than fifteen minutes, more or less. He might even put on another burst of speed to show off, considering that he’s male and very big indeed. You know how men are. So we don’t have all that much time.”

Nakia stopped laughing first. “Ah, well! Someone’s got to work; it might as well be us. Edith, darling girl, would you mind helping me with my gear? I’ll help you in turn and we’ll be back in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.”

Bringing herself back into her normal state of stern calm, but still smiling, Edith replied, “Not at all, my dear Nakia! After you.”

Their joking words not withstanding, they both fairly tore off the rail and ran to the forward hatch, down which they plunged like Valkyries into Hel, while two of the crew and one of the junior officers boiled out of the main cabin and readied the launch, hoisting it out of its chocks and onto its davits by attached slings, then swinging it outboard and lowering it to the water with one of the crew aboard to handle the lines and keep it steady against the hull of the larger vessel. It was a trim motorized whaleboat with a partial deck forward and a deep vee-shaped hull that had air sponsons at either side, just above the waterline, which were evidently intended for increased stability in heavy seas and also served as built-in fenders to prevent the small craft from damaging itself against the larger hull. Sa’aan noted that they hung fenders over the side as well, so they obviously believed in making doubly sure.

She contacted Leana, since this was probably going to be one of those ‘interesting’ encounters she’d promised to keep her aware of, “Leana? Time to wake up,

“A little after six,” she soothed her drowsy sister, who was not, as they say, a morning person, “It’s daylight, but not by much. But it’s probably going to be getting interesting here fairly soon. A big solitary male is headed down the coast toward us from up north. I’m guessing that he’s the orca-human chime from Alaskan waters my great grandmother told me about.”

“Well, orcas don’t usually travel on their own, so that’s odd all by itself, and he sped up when I announced myself, and is now traveling even faster than I could, so he’s odd enough that he really has to be a Chimera. Add to that the fact that he seems to take a special interest in me, and the likelihood that he’s the one I was told about rises to near certainty.”

“Leana! I haven’t actually seen him yet! And he’s not my boyfriend! So get over it already!”

“Don’t be silly, Mei-mei. I know he’s not your boyfriend yet, but if you think about it, he’s the only prospective boyfriend, much less marriage partner, who’s likely to be available in your lifetime. A young lady has to think about these things.”

“I know, I know,” Leana crooned, with exaggerated calm, as if she were addressing a dangerous madwoman, “But I bet he’s totally

“Leana! He’s big. That means he’s old. Lots older than I am. He must be at least twenty-five or thirty years old!” Sa’aan was getting flustered as well as embarrassed.

“Never mind,” Leana almost sang, “You’ll see, just wait till spring and your fancy turns to thoughts of love. You’ll change your tune fast enough, missy.”

“You will eventually, Mei-mei, you will.” Leana said this with an insufferable tone of superiority and the lofty condescension of age and wisdom one quite naturally has at seventeen toward a younger sibling.

In your dreams, she thought, but didn’t transmit to Leana. She always had to have the last word and Sa’aan didn’t want to talk about this subject at all.

In the meantime, Nakia and Edith had come up from below, both tastefully attired in color-coördinated diving gear and lugging tanks and regulators and fins. Neither seemed particularly encumbered by these heavy items. Nakia was in a rather conservative black outfit with curved pink stripes, edged with a purple accent, that molded to her figure from neck to ankle and highlighted her breasts and waist strategically, while Edith was in a slightly bolder suit with a deep vee of yellow down the bodice to her navel, and a similar flash of yellow across the top of her arms, which was even more strikingly feminine than Nakia’s, if that were possible. Both outfits seemed well-designed to advertise their gender to any onlooker within half a mile. Sa’aan thought to herself again, Well, now I know where Leana gets it. It must be endemic to females in general, and not just Leana’s fevered brain. Somehow, this failed to comfort her, since it turns out that she was female too, just not quite as happy in her gender as every other female seemed to be. And it wasn’t as if she could hide her female status, as her curved dorsal fin advertised the fact that she was ‘available’ to anyone within a mile or two. Plus, she was naked! For an illogical moment, she wondered what had happened to her Al-Arabi team jersey, but then abandoned it to the past, as she had all the rest of her former treasures. Oh, well. Easy come, easy go, she thought to herself wryly.

“No, I’ve been talking to Leana and the time just flew by.” At this, she gave a mental glower to her sister, but didn’t say anything that would spark another discussion, in which she was absolutely sure that both Nakia and Edith would take her sister’s side.

Edith exclaimed, “At this range? Oh, my. You are good at this stuff, aren’t you?”

“Well, Leana’s pretty strong as well. I mean, the conversation is going both ways.” Sa’aan hated it when people made out that she was something special, since being ‘special’ had been a source of torment for her even before her transition, and the murderous plots against her family and herself hadn’t done anything to convince her that hostility and scorn were now behind her, despite the many attempts of her family and friends to characterize what she knew was often true hatred and vicious bigotry as a symptom of mere jealousy.

Edith continued, “Has she been retested yet for new abilities? Nakia said that they were doing that with others who came into your immediate neighborhood, but I just wondered. As powerful as I’ve felt her to be, I’m surprised I haven’t heard of her before.”

Sa’aan said, “Not that I know of, but I know she’s stronger.” She attached Leana’s BioLync to their shared trunk and asked her, “Leana, have you been retested for chimeric powers lately?”

“Nope. I’ve had a rather busy schedule, what with taking care of you, then being in hospital and all, but I do know my healing abilities are much improved, and telepathy isn’t nearly as hard as it used to be. I seem to have more range as well, although I haven’t taken time to figure it out, and Sa’aan’s much more powerful. I don’t know if I could have a mental conversation at this distance without Sa’aan on the other end of the link. You’re what, a hundred miles away?”

Sa’aan corrected her only slightly, “A hundred and six miles as the crow flies. A little less than a hundred and seventy two kilometers,” she added for Edith’s benefit

Leana whistled, though how she did that with her distinctly carnivorous teeth, and through a BioLync circuit to boot, Sa’aan had no idea.“Jing-tsai! I’m going to be one popular girl when I apply to medical school.”

Edith spoke up for Canada, “Actually, I’m surprised they’re not lined up at your door right now. We have an excellent research school right here in Vancouver, and the University of Washington just a few miles south is absolutely superb for primary care, plus UCSF of course, although I imagine the world class schools like Harvard, Oxford, Saint Andrews, and Havana will try and get their dibs in, but UniToronto is right up there with the best, as is McGill in Montreal. Unlike most students, I suspect you’ll get free ride offers from all over creation. You’ll probably have to pay for your diploma, and having it framed, but that’s about all.”

Leana gently deflected Edith’s enthusiasm by airily displacing the idea into the future, as if she hadn’t already thought about it, “Well, I don’t really have to consider my university options until sometime next year, as I still have two years left until graduation, but going far away to school isn’t nearly as attractive as it was when we still lived in Campanella.”

In fact, Sa’aan knew that she’d schemed since middle school to find a college far enough away that she’d have an excuse to avoid coming home, even on holidays, but Campanella was only a little town in the Rockies now, on the other side of the continental divide, no longer the bane of her existence and the unpleasant core of the very small Hell in which she’d felt cruelly incarcerated.

“So you might choose a local school?” Edith seemed particularly pleased about that.

Leana chuffed impatiently, “Maybe,” she said carelessly. “I suppose I’ll have to decide eventually but Sa’aan will probably need me to take care of her for quite some time to come. And I’m definitely not leaving while there’s still any danger to my family. So I’m only willing to think about next week and close to home, at least until things settle down.”

Sa’aan spoke up, “I don’t think you’ll have to worry much longer, Jie-jie. The Purists will go away when the vid crews get tired of their antics, and the rest of them should be pacified within a few days.”

Sa’aan did a complete roll through the seas, gracefully arcing her right pectoral fin through the air. Whatever else her changes had done for her, swimming so powerfully was way more than jing-tsai. “Of course. When did I ever do anything without a plan? I’ve been reading up on everything I can find about Japanese politics, whales, the significance of whaling to the Japanese, world attitudes, and everything else I can think of that might help for almost a full day now, so I’ve covered a lot of ground. I think I have enough contingencies identified that I can make a good showing when plans fall apart, as they always do, but without a plan, and a flexible attitude toward improvisation, you start out with nothing and usually end up with more of the same.”

Nakia chose this moment to break in, “Um, Sa’aan? I think your gentleman caller has arrived.”

Sa’aan sighed irritably, “Not you too, Nakia. Leana’s teasing is bad enough.” She’d been tracking his proximity for quite some time now, and knew exactly where he was. She’d seen his blows approaching in the typical pattern, a series of blows at or near the surface, spaced quite closely to oxygenate the blood, followed by a dive lasting several minutes to make the most speed, away from surface turbulence. And she could well hear his motion and periodic ranging chirps, so his incipient presence was the least surprising thing imaginable. She turned to present her side in what passed for orca courtesy, since their limited range of stereo vision made a sidelong glance more informative. He was big, probably about twenty-five or thirty years old and thirty-two feet — almost ten meters — long, ten thousand kilograms at least. His dorsal fin was easily two meters in length and not flopped over to one side, as so many were. In short, he was a fine figure of an adult male. As big as she’d thought herself before, she felt dwarfed beside him.

Leana whistled again, evidently taking a vid feed from Nakia or Edith, “Aiya, Mei-mei! He’s huge!”

She agreed, “About what I expected, based on what I’d first heard, but he does seem a bit more intimidating, now that he’s swimming practically right next to me.”

He called a greeting, followed immediately by a mental touch that told her that he was telepathic, which meant in turn that he was a Chimera, although she didn’t know the full extent of his powers yet.

She answered, and opened a mental channel as well, offering full communication. Unlike her great grandmother, whose brain was profoundly alien, his was far more ‘human’ and very similar to her own. She knew from her healing senses that he was extraördinarily healthy for a male his age, so guessed that he was a healer, which would also help to account for his survival, although he must have had at least some help from his family during the onset of his transition. He had sky-blue eyes, in sharp contrast to every other orca she’d seen, evidently a hybrid trait.

She wasn’t prepared for the intensity of his thoughts, though, when he responded to her link. He’d evidently had many years to practice his skills and his mental touch carried much more than Leana’s had ever done. She could feel his emotions, as well as his surface thoughts, and was almost overwhelmed by his loneliness, the ache of which almost drowned out what he was saying.

Sa’aan winced, “Please, it’s too much,” she said. “Your thoughts are too… invasive.”

“Yes, much,” she said. “It’s not your fault at all; I’m probably more attuned to your thoughts than most would be, since we seem to share a mental and genetic similarity.”

He responded eagerly, “You noticed. But of course you did. You’re better at this than I was.”

He replied, “You’re probably the great leap forward, the one the whales have been waiting for. I wasn’t. Both they and I were somewhat disappointed.”

His explanation didn’t help at all. She asked again, “I don’t understand. What do you mean by the ‘leap forward?’ ”

Now he seemed confused. “But you know this already, don’t you? Why else are you out here?”

Sa’aan was beginning to get angry, “I don’t know anything! My great grandmother, and now you, seem to be privy to this fascinating rumor that I know nothing of! Why doesn’t anyone just say what they mean for once?” She could feel his confusion mounting, and was perversely pleased, since it finally matched her own.

He finally said, “Now I don’t understand. We’ve always known. How did it escape you?”

Only then did Sa’aan realize that he didn’t know that her own transition had been from fully human to orca. She explained contritely, “I’m sorry; I hadn’t quite grasped the fact that you couldn’t possibly know where I came from. I was a pretty ordinary human being before I transitioned, living up in the Rocky Mountains, deep in interior of the continent, so the orcas and I weren’t exactly on speaking terms. Why is it that you’re speaking in English? And how did you know I was here?” She could feel his amusement, almost rising clear of the deep current of his sorrow, as he replied.

“One question at a time, please,” he demurred. “I didn’t know the first, and had assumed that it would be impossible, since it was only with great difficulty that I myself survived, and I had the help of my entire family. It was an enormous effort for my family, but we have long experience with temporary breathing problems. As to the second, I noted that you’re clearly associated with a Canadian vessel, and closely accompanied by friends who are visibly distinct from normal humans, and chose English through courtesy, since I assumed that they were here to monitor or participate in our conversation. Responding on a deeper level, I’ve been able, since my illness, to hear the thoughts of the humans I pass near, and find their languages much easier to understand than do my fellows. They’re simple enough, so I’ve learned quite a few over the years. And going on to your third question, I can only point out that orcas are naturally inquisitive and love to gossip. Suffice it to say that I’d heard of you within a day of your arrival, and naturally came to see you straightaway. I noticed also that you weren’t surprised to see me, so assumed that you already knew about me. What seems to have escaped the gossip engine was that your own transition was unlike my own, since I’m sure it was as inconceivable to the intervening orcas as it was to me.”

Sa’aan grudgingly admitted his last point, “Well, you and your friends were very nearly right. I nearly died, and would probably have succumbed if I hadn’t had the luck to fall ill in the very place most likely to have facilities to help me, a marine park with a captive orca exhibit, and with my sister — who is a powerful healer — beside me. As it was, I’m told my survival was somewhat in doubt, but we’ve made great strides in handling difficult transitions in recent years and the medical team managed to pull me through, with the help of my sister, my mother, and many others.”

He seemed pleased with this, as if acknowledging the appropriateness of one’s female relatives taking charge of a young one in trouble. “For which we must all count our blessings. Now I understand, and hasten to clear up the mystery. The great whales fell into a decline, many hundreds of years ago, and undertook an action to save themselves before they fell silent, although their breeding program has been going on almost forever. That action has finally resulted in you.”

“Yes, myself as well, but I wasn’t quite the one they wanted. I daresay there’ll be others, because whatever they did had far-reaching effects, and the genetic material of every creature on Earth is slowly working towards whatever final state the whales appear to have intended.”

“No. I wish I did, but I don’t. The whales were never that forthcoming, I’m told, and it all happened long ago. They used to be much smarter, according to our histories of them, but are all pretty ordinary now. It’s moderately hard to get one to talk at all. Speaking of which, aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends?”

Sa’aan realized that Nakia and Edith were still sitting patiently in the launch, which was moving slowly along beside them, a little ways off. She apologized, “I’m so sorry! You’ll have to speak slowly, since they can’t process information as quickly as we do,” she blurted out before realizing that he probably already knew that.

If so, he kindly didn’t mention it. “That sounds like good advice; I’ll keep it in mind.”

Now Sa’aan addressed the two women in the launch, “Nakia, Edith, this is our visitor from Alaska, whose real name I can’t pronounce in any way you’d understand it.”

Sa’aan saw Nakia and Edith look towards each other with a significant glance, but had no idea what that look had signified.

Nakia said, “Welcome, Ishmael. You’ve chosen an auspicious name. Your namesake was the legendary father of all the Arabs, and so a distant ancestor of mine, at least in legend. My own name is Nakia bint Ramia Inconnu.”

“Then I am honored to bear it. I gather you’re here as friends of this one? This is a moderately strange thing, although not unprecedented, as there have been friendships between humans and ourselves before, according to our records of such things.”

Nakia answered, “We are. We call her Sa’aan, a name she chose herself after her transition, but she is our friend and has a rare gift. We came here to try and talk to the whales and to discover more about that gift.”

“I understand,” he said. “A logical inference, despite her relative lack of context. There will be several along directly, I believe, since I passed them on my way south. And unless I miss my own guess, all will soon be revealed, either for good or ill.”

Edith answered, “Not for ill, I hope. There’s been a lot going on in the world. The Canadian government has declared that all orcas and other cetaceans in our waters are citizens, or prospective citizens upon application, and the RSA and Mexico have done the same, along with a similar declaration guaranteeing the rights of all the great cetaceans along both coasts of North America and out to three hundred miles. We’re working with the United Nations to declare a worldwide total moratorium on whaling, based on their status as intelligent beings, although Japan is still recalcitrant.”

He projected a mild impression of astonishment as he commented, “My, my, you have been busy, haven’t you? Might I be of any assistance?”

Edith said with some relief, “Yes, your help would be invaluable, since we could thereby prove that Sa’aan isn’t a fluke….” She broke off nervously, when she realized her injudicious choice of words, and then continued, “I’m sorry, Sa’aan, but Ishmael could furnish independent corroboration of all our testimony, since the case thus far rests mainly on Sa’aan’s testimony and the witness of Nakia and myself. Mind you, it’s been enough to go forward on, but it makes Sa’aan herself a tempting target for assassination as the more or less solitary obstacle in the way of many quite ruthless people. There have been several attempts on her life already.”

His rumble grew more dangerous, “I’m at your service then, of course. I’ll do whatever I can to protect her.”

Sa’aan interrupted, “Hey! Don’t I get to have a say in all this? Remember me?”

Nakia glanced toward Edith with shared compassion for their joint charge before answering carefully, “Sa’aan, we’re all here to help you, but there’s only so much we can do from up here while you live down there in the midst of all this immensity. What more can we do to assure you that we care about you and have your best interests at heart? But please realize that you need a protector who lives in the same neighborhood at least.”

Edith added, “Until the situation with the assassins is fully resolved, Sa’aan, I’ve asked the RCMP and the Canadian Coast Guard to coöperate in providing whatever personal protection we possibly can, but Nakia is right; your best protection is to reside among a community of friends who can be available to come to your side in a heartbeat.”

While they were speaking, Ishmael turned his steady gaze on her and spoke much faster than the others could follow:

“Remember you? Dear one, I could hardly forget you. I’ve been waiting for you nigh on thirty years.”

“Yes, you. When it became obvious that I was not the shortcut the whales were looking for, it was immediately apparent, to me at least, that the time was ripe for the appearance of the real thing. Ergo, you, or someone very like you, was bound to show up soon. I have to admit that I was a mite discouraged over how long it was taking, but that’s the trouble with statistical processes. Unlike most males, my lifetime is probably measured in centuries — like your own. I gained control over my health and metabolism once I’d completed my ‘transition,’ as you call it, so I had time enough to spare, but I was lonely nonetheless.”

Sa’aan had smiled when she heard him use the word ‘ergo,’ remembering Nakia’s comment when she’d used the same word. It was a curious synchronicity which she filed away for further thought and then replied, “But didn’t you have your family? My own orca family has been very supportive.” She was puzzled, but realized that Ishmael might have had a different experience, since her situation was hardly symmetrical with his own.

“Really?” Ishmael observed with gentle irony. “But you’ll notice they are not here, for either of us. Among orcas, such behavior is almost unheard of, except possibly among the transients, who tend to be somewhat rowdy and forgetful of family obligations. Orcas are quite conservative, for the most part, despite what might appear to be a carefree lifestyle, and neither you nor I will ever quite fit in. But I daresay you never really fit into human society either.”

He cut her off, but not with any sense of discourtesy or impatience, “Come now, this is unworthy of you. Your brain is the result of the same genetic manipulation as my own, even more so. And that brain keeps on going, doesn’t it? No matter what’s happening around you, your brain keeps on processing and scheming. Like me, you rarely feel a moment in which you lose consciousness of yourself, in which you’re fully immersed in a moment, in which you’re just part of a crowd, or a family, because that brain of yours is always in control.”

Startled, she realized that he was right, although she hadn’t thought of it quite that clearly before. That one moment with the orcas at AquaWorld had changed everything, but it was just a moment. “But, you’re like me….” She faltered.

His feelings of fond regard washed over her like silk, “My dear, what do you think I’ve been saying? You’re more of what those who designed me were aiming for, but we’re two of a kind, you and I, bites from the same strange fish. Who do you know who talks like I do, thinks like I do, except you?”

Sa’aan was coming to this head-on. “I’m starting to get it, but I’m still very new at this. Before my transition, I was a fourteen-year-old human boy.”

“Then all this will be very strange indeed,” he said, “but not much stranger than my own life has been. I was ten years of age when I fell sick, and when I woke my brain didn’t work as I’d remembered, and I was more or less immediately cut off from the easy camaraderie of my family. They didn’t say anything overt, but they let it be known in a hundred different ways that I wasn’t quite the same, and wasn’t really part of the small group of male kin the females allow near them. The females are the heart of the family, as I’m sure you’ve realized, so it was a heavy blow, from beloved son and nephew to relative pariah in one easy step. And the females of other families were even less friendly.” He thrashed his flukes powerfully — perhaps unconsciously — moving restlessly through the water. “Since that time I’ve been a loner, for the most part, and have spent many years in solitude, gathering the second-hand education in humanity and the world above the water you’ve seen displayed before you. Seafarers read a lot, many of them anyway, and the ability to read minds is too valuable a skill on land for anyone with that peculiar power to choose an isolated life at sea which affords little opportunity to use it, so I’ve run little risk of detection.”

Sa’aan said excitedly, “But you can go to school now, enrolled and everything so everybody knows you’re learning and can help. If you want to of course…. And you can do all sorts of things. I have what are called remotes that allow me to interact with things on land, or far away.”

If he’d had proper brows, Ishmael would have arched them, but the look he gave her spoke volumes about skeptical self-sufficiency. “I saw the implants near your brain, and had wondered about them. Do these things allow you to control the ‘remotes,’ as you called them?”

She felt almost apologetic now. “Yes. I can see and hear directly through their eyes and ears, and make them move around and pick up things, and even talk to people on land. I even have two that can fly. There’s one above my parent’s home right now, way on the other side of the island to our east, keeping an eye on things for me.”

“Remotely, yes. In my own body, I can no more escape the sea than you can, but with my mind’s sensorium, in consort with my mechanical extensions, I can both move about on land and fly like a bird or an airship.”

He responded after a long pause, “So you’re what one of my science fiction stories called a cyborg? A living being with mechanical parts?”

Sa’aan hadn’t thought about it like that, although she could see his point, and answered, “Well, yes…, I suppose I am. Almost everyone is nowadays. Why carry stuff around when you can wear it inside your body where it’s always handy and much more useful?”

“Fascinating,” he said, obviously intrigued by the idea. “In the science fiction novel, considerable angst was experienced by those with mechanical parts, as they felt excluded from the rest of humanity and hated them.”

Sa’aan found this difficult to believe. “Maybe in really old texts, but not any more. With chimerism loose in the world, most people don’t worry too much about what makes a human, at least those with any sense. It’s what you can do that counts, and who you are. If an implant helps you do more, that’s good. If Chimes helps you do more, and it usually does, that’s good too. And without my implants, I’d be almost totally cut off from my human family, and from the world above the water. If it was a new text, it sounds like the so-called ‘cyborgs’ were being used as a trope for Chimeræ, with pejorative intent.”

Ishmael pondered this carefully before responding, “Again, fascinating. I believe you’re right. In retrospect, the invidious comparisons between the pure humans and the jealous cyborgs seem calculated to say covertly somewhat more than the ostensibly innocuous surface story would allow. So it’s quite conceivable that it was propaganda. Are these sorts of stories unheard of in Canada? Would that everyone was quite so benevolent and understanding. And the idea that there’s a real world above the roof of air, in which I could participate, hadn’t really occurred to me before this. Other, of course, than as an item of theoretical interest, like living on the Moon or Mars.”

Sa’aan realized then that she may have been insensitive. She felt frustrated, because she’d gotten used to having loads of time to mull things over before she spoke, and thrilled at the same time, because she was having a real conversation rather than a correspondence. She tried again, “You’re right, of course. We do have our own ‘conservatives,’ and they aren’t at all sanguine about us, some few of them even murderously hostile, but more and more of the real business of the world is being performed by those of us who do feel the way I do, and the ‘conservatives’ among us have little real power, from what I’ve observed and deduced.”

“I’ll have to take your word for that, since my observations of the humans in Alaskan waters leave me with quite another impression, although the indigenous peoples are more accepting. The last public execution of a child who’d transitioned into what they called a ‘monster’ took place there less than a hundred years ago, and there’s still more or less overt discrimination. Perhaps it’s different further south.”

Sa’aan was horrified, “I’m sure it is. I realized that the New Russian Empire was quite conservative, influenced by Orthodoxy I think, but I didn’t know that they were that barbaric. Their southern borders abut the still somewhat hostile Caliphates, which tend to be reactionary, so maybe they feed each other’s narrow-mindedness and intransigence. I know it’s not so in the rest of the world, including most parts of Africa south of the Sahel. Native peoples there were quite receptive to Chimerism, and the monotheistic religions foisted upon them by their former conquerors and colonial masters fell rapidly out of favor due to the renaissance of indigenous cultural and religious practices which had been telling them that animals had souls all along, and that the boundaries between living creatures were permeable. In Western Europe and Oceania, of course, they never had much trouble, nor in Asia proper, really.”

He was honestly curious. “Why not, do you suppose? As an accomplished spy, I know quite a bit about human popular culture and current events, at least on the Russian frontier, but haven’t run across all that many history buffs.”

Sa’aan thought for a moment before she answered, “I’m not really sure, but I think it’s partly because these cultures weren’t quite as wedded to a worldview that put humanity on top of everything, with the unspoken subtext being ‘civilized humanity’ who look like ‘us.’ The Europeans were already starting to feel some of the first effects of global warming, and were starting to get their act together anyway, and what they called the ‘Global South’ back then, which was really everything outside of Europe and the old USA… well, with the exception of Canada, Australia, New Zealand, and Japan, were ticked off at the rich nations anyway, especially the old USA. The onset of Chimerism laid everyone low, rich and poor alike, so the poorest peoples saw it almost as a blessing, and a fitting retribution for centuries of exploitation and dominance. Schadenfreude, the Germans call it, that peculiar happiness that comes from seeing others suffer, especially people you resent and despise.”

He laughed. “You’re quite delightful, you know. I’m sure I wasn’t nearly as wise when I was your age.”

She didn’t know what to say, and his open admiration made her feel… funny. She changed the subject. “Shouldn’t we include the others in this conversation? I’m sure they’ll start to notice soon.”

“Not to worry, my dear Sa’aan. They’re just getting around to us now.”

Edith had just finished saying ‘…in a heartbeat’ when Sa’aan answered them both, “I have to apologize. I was just feeling sorry for myself again. It sounded like the ‘grownups’ were deciding how my life should arranged and, although I like you, Nakia, and Edith too, a lot, you’re not my parents. At this point, I don’t even know if my parents are really my parents in the legal sense, since I’m fully independent, have moved from under their roof, and am independent financially. I’m more like an emancipated minor, except that in orca terms I’m fully grown, an adult in fact as well as religious fiction. And in some ways I now consider myself their guardian rather than the reverse, since I am able to observe and act in their environment while they are neither free to observe nor act in mine. It’s also clear that I have more raw power.”

Leana whooped, “You go, girl! Speaking of which, the security team Nakia left behind have been looking over the totally akamai detection setup you arranged for us here, and they’d like to talk to you about some of your ideas.”

Sa’aan was pleased to have a positive evaluation of her work, but demurred, “Almost any time would be alright, except maybe not just now, Jie-jie.”

“Right,” Leana replied bitterly. “I forgot that I’m sitting out on the edge of the bluff doing nothing while you’re all out there saving the world….”

Nakia intervened, “Leana, I know it’s hard to bear, but having you there is also a contribution to your parent’s safety, since you have the range, it seems, to be able to contact us directly if anything happens on your end, and Sa’aan probably has the ability to respond effectively to that contact.”

“I know,” she groused, “They also serve and all that…, but this part of the service is boring.”

“You’ll note,” Nakia added dryly, “that there are quite a few of my people, among the best security operatives on the planet, scattered around you, so you’re in very good company. When I say this task is important, it’s one which I’ve thrown quite a bit of the government’s money and resources at and will have little or no trouble justifying to my superiors.”

Sa’aan added, “I’m glad you’re there, too, Jie-jie. It’s one thing to have rats and airships being mechanical detectors, and with all due respect to Nakia’s team, your sharp eyes and brain in the immediate neighborhood make me feel a lot better about leaving Mom and Dad on their own. With a gang like ours, the Yakuza, or whoever, don’t stand a chance.”

She continued without pause, “And Nakia, Edith, I do accept and appreciate your comments. You’re both right, I do need allies who are at home in my new environment, and Ishmael has pointed out — I think accurately — that my putative great grandmother and her relatives are not really fitted for the rôle. They have their own lives to live, which must necessarily take a different path than my own. Ishmael has graciously offered to help me, and I’ve decided to accept that help without reservations, since I’ve finally realized that I’m probably going to need it, and we have much to offer each other. He’s a healer, for example, just as I am, although we could probably both benefit from formal training. And if you, Leana, or any of the rest of you, subject either of us to knowing winks or singsong doggerel, I’ll bite you each and severally.”

“Singsong doggerel?” Ishmael inquired, evidently puzzled by the reference.

Sa’aan glanced at him meaningfully and said privately, “I’ll tell you about it later.”

Ishmael acquiesced without a word, and the others kept their peace, although Nakia raised one brow.

The cutter was lying snugly, the jib back-winded and helm made fast alee, hove to the wind under reduced sail, rocking gently on the swells as the red skies to the west deepened slowly into night. They were about fifty miles offshore, a distance Ishmael had thought about right, since either he or Sa’aan could easily hear a whale blowing from that distance, and that gave them a hundred mile-wide swath of open ocean in which to find a mother-to-be headed south. Hove to, the ship itself made little noise, and the only sounds were the low murmurs of the crew at the helm and the small deck watch, ready for any eventuality. Although Ishmael was sure that there would be a whale or two coming along soon, he’d feared missing one in the darkness, its telltale sonic trace masked by that of the cutter under full sail, much less power-sailing for speed or up on the hydroplanes.

Nakia and Edith had watched the sunset for a while, and then gone down below for a little nap and relaxation. Leana had long ago lost interest, and retired to catch up on schoolwork in the house. Seafaring hadn’t changed all that much in hundreds of years; things didn’t happen quickly and there were often lengthy times in which nothing in particular occurred other than the passing of the hours.

Sa’aan and Ishmael were drifting too, side by side, barely sculling their flukes at intervals to rise to the surface in tandem and take a breath or two, half asleep in the cradle of the sea, the motion of the water almost imperceptible after long familiarity. Earlier, they’d both shared a largish number of Sa’aan’s salmon, although Ishmael was of the opinion that it wasn’t proper to take advantage of captives so. Eventually, he was persuaded by necessity; finding pelagic fish required a large effort, and time spent aside from their primary objective. He’d grumbled, but he ate.

She was pondering what this new relationship meant in terms of the rest of her life, and what it meant right now. Although she hated to admit it, Leana had been right; if she was ever to have the sort of mutually-supportive companionship her parents had, Ishmael was the only likely candidate. But orcas did best in larger groups, as far as she could tell, and there didn’t seem to be many sidekick candidates hanging around. On the other hand, he was deferential and courteous toward her, just as her father was with her mother, so she didn’t feel overwhelmed by his size and power. In fact, she had to admit to herself that she felt safer when he was near. She’d only known him for a few hours, and already he felt… comfortable.

Maybe it’s my half-orca brain, she thought, some sort of instinctive pack response that stabilizes orca pods. But she hadn’t felt this

The thought made her a little bit crazy, but there he was beside her, the warm bulk of him dimly illuminated by random background sounds from the open ocean around them. And she knew that a few clicks would reveal him totally, even in the starlit darkness. With a thought, she could slip into his brain, and wasn’t at all frightened by what she knew she’d find there. And then, without thinking, they rose in perfect synchrony toward the air above them and breathed together.

A wave of warmth washed over her, and a strange sort of restless, needy lethargy. After a moment of confusion, she examined her endocrine levels and internal organs and saw with a mixture of horror and delight that she was just now entering her first œstrous period.

Dang! she thought. Doesn’t that just put a cherry on it! Here’s another fine kettle of fish to deal with! As if I didn’t have enough to do already.

She fretted about this for a minute, both her own internal state and what it probably meant in the world outside, and then she became calm.

She came to a decision and addressed him by his true name, then added, “Ishmael, when human children enter puberty, and start to become interested in those of the opposite sex, and then to form their first romantic attachments, they’re often teased and kidded by their playmates and friends. Often, the jokes and adolescent bons mots take the form of rhyming songs, usually of a stereotypical nature and lesser poetic quality, a type of verse we call doggerel. My sister has been teasing me about boyfriends, and males in general, since I transitioned to female, and Nakia has joined in, to a much lesser degree, although I know it’s meant well in both cases. When I threatened them, mostly in jest, the singsong doggerel I referred to was any of a number of these songs, but the likely choice would have been, ‘Sa’aan and Ishmael, sitting in a tree, kay eye ess ess aye en gee. First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes Sa’aan with the baby carriage.’ It’s meant, I think, as a way for those so recently just children to come to terms with their incipient adulthood, as well as a sort of gentle cautionary tale, for girls in particular, reminding them that adult sexuality carries with it adult consequences.” She fixed her gaze on him and emitted a long series of clicks, illuminating his entire body with sonic light, revealing both his shape and the interior organs of his body, an act whose full significance he would realize, from which there was no turning back.“I’m not nearly ready to be a mother yet, Ishmael, but I’m starting to think about it, and I’m slightly beyond adolescence now.”

He held her in the same calm regard he always did, then emitted his own series of clicks, which she knew displayed all her innermost parts, and of course he was a healer and had an even more intimate knowledge of the state of her body. This realization excited her more than she could say.

He said at length, “Of course, dear one. These things are always in your control, and indeed far more than mere consent, since you have the power to regulate your body, just as I do. I’ve been waiting many years; a few more years won’t hurt me, especially when I see before me the one whom I was anticipating with such deliberate longing, Sa’ushka, moya rodnaya.

The way he said those last two words, rolling them so lovingly, drawn out with such sensual care, almost made her melt, even though she hadn’t the foggiest idea what they meant. Strike that; she knew exactly what they meant, just not the individual words. “I can see that I’m going to have to learn Russian, when all is said and done,” she murmured.

She could feel his affectionate amusement spilling over the link between them; he knew the effect he was having on her, the scoundrel!

He murmured softly, “That would be best, dearest friend. It was from the passionate Russians that the cerebral French learned to imitate the language of love. The words mean, on their surface, only ‘my kinswoman,’ but they spring from the very heart and soul of Mother Russia, and convey much more than any trivial denotation of bloodlines between such ‘kin’ as you and I.”

She laughed, still tingling with the honey of his words, “I see the Russians must have taught the Irish their gift of blarney as well.”

“Of course! Russian traders went everywhere, even down to Rome and Egypt. The very word ‘Blarney’ calls to mind the lonely steppes of Mother Russia, the longing of its simple horsemen for the girls they left behind them as they set forth on their long journeys in quest of gifts of silver, ivory, and amber to adorn their slim wrists, their dainty shell-like ears, and tender heaving bosoms.” He’d pronounced the first syllable of that Irish word with a liquid trill that sent shivers down her spine and had continued into a casual display of eloquence that meant nothing, of course, and everything, both at once. It hardly mattered what the words were, only that he meant them for her alone.

“Then ‘Sa’ushka’ is an affectionate alteration of my name?” She looked again at her uterus and ovaries, and was tempted to intervene, as he knew she could, but then she stopped, realizing that something had been decided by her heart, partially overriding the inclinations of her body.

“Yes, of course. The noble Russian language has a thousand ways to make affection palpable, so that those unfortunate souls limited to lesser languages must weep as they speak, grieving for the loss of what they never fully knew. Sa’ulenka, Sa’usya, Sa’ulya, Sa’ochka; all are loving embellishments of your beautiful name. The glottal stop is not used as a full consonant in Russian, but from what I know of the Haida and Tsimshian languages farther north, it probably represents an elided ‘G’ or ‘K’ sound. It seems prophetic as well, since ‘Sagaana,’ among the Tsimshian, from whose culture the Haida and Tlingit borrowed extensively, refers not only to those like us, but to supernatural power in general, and to the ultimate source of all power within the world around us, ‘Sins Sagaana.’ Shamans, who accessed this power, were often called Sagaaga.”

She murmured, “It’s from a minor dialect of Haida, not currently spoken by anyone in the immediate area. When I realized the importance of the orca to the Haida people, I didn’t want to inadvertently offend people, but I deliberately chose the name to reflect a real tradition of power, because I felt touched by fate, or destiny, to be something more than I was.”

“I quite agree, but had the advantage of knowing at least something about the proximate purveyors of fate off hiding in the wings. Would you mind telling me what your line of reasoning was, since we seem unlikely to proceed further along… other lines?”

Sa’aan smiled, and said kindly, indeed lovingly, “I’m tempted, dear, which seems mildly… alarming? exciting? I can’t quite decide which. And you’re a handsome devil, which you know quite well, but I have a job to do yet, and babies don’t figure into my plans for the immediate….”

Sa’aan cut him off in mid-thought, “Don’t be silly, as you reminded me not too long ago. You know as well as I that I couldn’t destroy your child and mine, if we went down that road right now. I wouldn’t want to, I think — another of those impulses that both alarm and excite me — and you probably wouldn’t like it either, once you had time to reflect. In my view, it would slowly, but inexorably, poison our friendship, and certainly whatever love exists between us now. I looked at the egg now becoming fertile deep inside me, and I did think about killing it to suit my present mood, but then I realized that part of my excitement now is knowing that it’s there, and that the moment, as they say, is pregnant with possibilities.” She fell silent, and Ishmael knew better than to reply, so they drifted still in synchrony, rising and breathing in a sort of slow pavane.

After a time, she spoke again, “I was just minding my own business, going on a long-awaited vacation with my family, but I’d had a fascination with orcas for many years, so much so that I persuaded my sister to accompany me to a place in which they were available to be seen. We arrived at a time of day during which the crowds had thinned out, and I was able to find seating in an area in which I had the best chance of interaction with them, although I didn’t realize it then. This was the exact spot which was drenched by an orca during a part of the show they perform, and a key figure in a government agency specializing in ‘difficult’ Chimeric transitions just happened to be sitting next to us. I experienced a unique, even ecstatic, mental connection — using talents which I’d never known I had — with the orcas and with those around me, which was just hours before I entered sudden and drastic transition, culminating in the form you see beside you. Then my family moved, seemingly at random, to the home range of the very orcas with whom I’d bonded and whose genetic makeup I partially share. I met two members of my extended family in the middle of a vast expanse of water and was able, with the help of my sister, to perform a valuable service which may have saved their lives. This in turn attracted the attention of their auntie, who is the head honcho in these parts. She immediately discerned my true nature, intuited our genetic relationship, and eventually transmitted this fact on the orca chat circuit, from which it reached you, and here you are. If not fate, then the workings of a very peculiar sort of coïncidence have led us both to this moment.”

Ishmael gave this statement the dignity of long silence before replying, “It all seems rather inexorable, when I think about it now, but let me assure you that it didn’t seem so until the moment when I first heard your sweet voice, faintly calling across the long sea miles, and everything became clear, for me at least.” He paused again before continuing, “I’d hoped, but never dared to dream of what it might mean, for there was no analogue to my situation in orca culture, nor solace in the human stories I read by proxy.” He paused again for a long beat, “Is there a difference, do you think, between this concept of ‘fate’ and the benevolent good wishes and subtle nudges of beings other than ourselves? It seems to me that the urgings of friends are quite often motivated by perceptions and purposes of which we might not be aware, but which none-the-less are to our benefit. It’s undeniable that, in some sense, we were ‘made for each other,’ perhaps more literally than this phrase usually implies, and it’s also true that we have, as they say, a lot in common. But far more to the point, I think, is how I felt when I saw you. I was stunned and amazed by an overwhelming sense of connection and longing. This is a new thing for orcas, for whom only family relationships are meaningful, and sexual play is casual at best, to be discarded and forgotten when the mood passes, like any other hunger, without any trace of nostalgia or regret.”

Sa’aan gazed fondly at him, taking in the proud thrust of his dorsal fin, the raw power of his heavy frame and sleek muscles, the hidden anatomy within, and said, “We’re a new species,” softly, sculling a little closer, rubbing her sensitive flank against his own, delighting in the texture of his skin, and in his presence beside her, “if you hadn’t noticed, a little more than either human or orca. It’s not surprising that we’ll have to create something of a new culture to match our new corporeal reality. We’ll have, I hope, the best of both worlds and both we and our descendants will change them both forever.”

“No, dearest, nothing so dreamy and undefined. I’m very practical and pragmatic, when all is said and done, and know exactly what we’re going to be to each other. When I decide to do something, I just do it. You’re mine, and I am yours, but not quite yet, in quite that way, my darling boychik.”

“Sa’ushenka! You spoke the great and mighty Russian tongue! You know how it excites me!”

She laughed in sheer delight. He’d somehow plucked an Addams Family episode from her brain, and had imitated Gomez perfectly. This was both flattering and intimate, a familiarity that endeared him to her even more. She answered, “Eastern Yiddish, which is much the same thing. I’ll get started on learning Russian soon now, as soon as we accomplish whatever task we’ve been set to. Until then, don’t torture yourself. That’s my job,” she said in a sultry tone.

They’d talked all through the night, Ishmael telling tales of his adventures following the Russian traders, trying to keep up with a story as it sailed away and at the same time finding enough to eat, which was always a problem on one’s own, and Sa’aan sharing stories of her family and school, as well as what little she’d done that seemed interesting.

He was fascinated by her trip in the airship, and by the idea of the Grand Canyon, which she promised to show him, at least by proxy, when they returned to English Bay. In the meantime, she’d traced out a sonic image of the canyon as she remembered it from the overflight, bolstered by a 3D stereo hologram loaded from the Net as a mnemonic. She’d taken a continuous vid of the entire trip, often from several viewpoints at once, depending on how many cameras were available to her at the time, but warned him that she’d been hauled aboard and shipped as cargo, which was both tedious and unflattering. He’d gallantly assured her that he would treasure every moment, and that she was very brave to set forth into the future like that, her very life in the hands of others, trusting in their skill and goodwill.

At some point, they’d discovered that he’d never managed to finish Proust’s massive

The sudden whir of halyards snaking through the masthead blocks and the rapid clicking of metal pawls falling into the internal gear teeth on the winch drums alerted her to the fact that people were now stirring on the boat, shaking out the sails and getting under way, followed closely by Nakia’s voice in her head.

“Good morning, Sunshine!” she said enthusiastically. “It’s a grey day, but the air is so fresh and chilly they ought to bottle it for a restorative!”

Rising, Sa’aan looked around. To the east, she could see the thickening of the overcast she thought marked the edge of the mountain ranges toward the middle of Vancouver Island, although the shore itself was lost over the hazy horizon, itself darker than the brightening sky above it. “It’s a real change from Virginia, I imagine. It’s seventy five degrees there now, and it’s still early.”

“Well, it can’t be helped. We have passive cooling at home, so my family won’t be too uncomfortable over the weekend. I talked to Chione and Ettiene this morning, and to my husband late last night. They’re all doing fine but want to come visit the next time I’m out here, if we can possibly arrange it. There wasn’t time to do much of anything before I left, much less arrange school schedules and vacation time for all of us. Maybe next time, if you’ll have me.”

“Of course we would!” Sa’aan exclaimed. “I’m sure your kids would like to see the Inland Sea the way I can show it to them, and there’s lots of stuff to see on land as well. I haven’t used my land mobiles yet, and it would be fun to have someone to run around with for my first onshore explorations.”

Edith beamed. “I’d be pleased to show them around as well, Nakia. This part of Canada is beautiful in fall and winter, although we rarely get snow anymore, except in the high interior mountains. And if your husband enjoys golf, I can modestly say that we have some of the best courses in the world near Victoria and Vancouver. British Columbia was partly settled by many Scots during the early days, so they brought their national pastime with them, and the introduction of bioengineered grasses developed right here in British Columbia has eliminated the use of chemicals and even the need to mow the greens, as well as limiting the need for irrigation, so it’s an environmentally-friendly game these days. In addition, all Canadian courses maintain incorporated and fringing woods and wild native grasslands to encourage œcological diversity.” She was obviously quite pleased to have one more good thing to say about Canada.

Nakia laughed. “In that case, We might as well leave him at home for all we’ll see of him! Put a club in that man’s hand and he thinks he’s Harvey Penick.”

Once more, Sa’aan was left in the dark until she looked up the name and discovered that he was one of the antique golfers who’d made a name for himself, at least among golfers, by writing several books about golf that were still popular after two centuries had gone by. She was completely dumbfounded and so said nothing. There’d been a golf course just on the outskirts of Campanella, and she’d passed by it on her bicycle several times when she was still a human boy, but the players were mostly old men and it had looked like the most boring game in the world, even worse than cricket.

But Edith had an answer for that too, “Maybe you can lure him off the course for a candlelight dinner for two at the Royal Stewart Club, which was chartered in 2068 and has an associated holovid theater and supervised arcade in which the younger crowd can be safely entertained and kept from mischief whilst the parents have some grown-up fun. The dining room has a marvelous real view of English Bay, as well as the North Coast Range, and is quite the place for hot dates, especially on Fridays and Saturdays, when they usually have a small dance band. I’m particularly fond of it, since it’s where my wife proposed.” She smiled genially at Nakia as she said this, especially pleased to help arrange a romantic evening for this woman with whom she had become close, her friend.

Nakia joked in reply, “It’s sounding better and better, dear. Next you’ll try to lure us all to come live in Vancouver.”

Edith laughed. “Well, it’s not at all a bad idea, but Sa’aan has already tried that, with a rather more extravagant inducement than I could possibly arrange, so I’m just pointing out the vacation and relaxation possibilities.”

“I’ll be sure to make it happen soon, then. On the other hand, Virginia and the District of Columbia are very hot come summers, so I may well change my mind eventually. That muggy heat in combination with my fur can be a trial sometimes.” Here she gestured at her arms and upper body. “But I’m sure we’re boring Ishmael with girl talk; it’s hard enough being recently introduced to a bunch of strangers and then have to sit on the sidelines while they buzz about personal matters.”

Ishmael responded smoothly, “Quite the contrary, dear ladies; I was deeply touched by your inclusion of me, a stranger, in arranging the intimate details of your lives. Your feminine care and loving concern for those around you is a welcome change from the rough and burly Russian seamen who have been my unwitting companions for many decades.”

Edith laughed again, “Ooooh! You silver-tongued flatterer, you! Sa’aan! This one’s a keeper, I think! You’ll have to hold onto him.” She looked down at them with a broad smile as they cruised lazily along beside the sleek vessel, itself now fully under way and reaching broad across the wind toward the northwest but not capable of half their speed under sail.

Sa’aan had expected this kind of teasing banter, but had rather thought that Nakia or Leana might make the first insinuation. She was fully prepared in any case, and made her formal announcement without delay, “I fully plan to. We have a mutual understanding.” She turned her gaze fondly toward Ishmael, who very wisely said nothing, leaving this particular social interaction to the women.

Nakia exclaimed, “Sa’aan! How very exciting! Have you told Leana yet? She’ll be pretty ticked at you if you don’t tell her soon.”

She temporized, “I’d planned to wait a bit longer. She doesn’t like to be rousted out of bed in the morning at all.”

Edith would have none of it. “Nonsense! She’ll forgive you instantly for waking her with this news; believe me. You can’t betray your sister by keeping this kind of secret for more than a few minutes, especially after you’ve told us all. You have to tell your mother too, of course, but first Leana, I think.”

Sa’aan sighed and said, “If you wouldn’t mind giving me a bit of privacy, I’ll do just that. Is that alright with you?”

“Of course,” Edith said promptly. “I think Nakia and I have some chores to do below.” With that, the two of them left the rail and went below with surprising good grace, although she noticed that they were laughing softly together as they climbed down the hatch.

Leana woke up promptly. “Mei-mei? Aiya! Have you had sex with him yet? Tell me all about it!”

“Leana!” She was scandalized, despite the fact that she’d seriously considered doing that very thing just a few hours previously.

“No, she said primly, I haven’t, but on mature consideration I’ve decided you were right, and we have an understanding about that. When the time is right, I plan to, but I have a lot to do before I get pregnant and have babies so we’re going to wait.”

“But you could have had sex without…. Oh! you’re fertile right now, aren’t you?”

Sa’aan was mystified by her sister’s seeming ability to magically figure out what was going on inside her body and mind before she could get a word in edgewise, but reluctantly admitted, “Yes. Just last night.”

“Jing-tsai! Congratulations, Mei-mei…, Sa’aan. You’re a woman now. So tell me what he’s like!”

At first, she was reluctant to engage in this conversation, but Leana was so eager that she relented, “First, he’s very gallant, almost courtly in that way that Mr. Jefferson has, but much more exuberant and masculine, I think. It wasn’t until I compared his body and… physical power with my own that I really felt… well… girly next to him.”

“I saw him on Edith’s vidfeed, so I know he’s big, and very handsome. And he seems in much better shape than most of the males, even the young ones. He doesn’t have that floppy fin thing going on, for instance.”

“He’s a powerful healer, of course, so he’s actually in perfect shape, and likely to stay that way for a good long time. And he’s much stronger than ordinary orcas because of his transition, but he has a brain like mine, really like mine. He sees patterns in things like I do, knows things without asking, and has the same sort of strange humor.” Oddly, Sa’aan felt more pleasure in simply recalling and describing Ishmael than she had ever taken in any other activity.

Sa’aan blushed. “Oh, Leana! I think I am! He’s been so terribly lonely for so very long, because the other orcas don’t really want much to do with him because he’s different, just like I was. His brain works differently, and I think the orcas can tell, even if they don’t seem to have any inherent telepathic powers. My heart just broke when I felt the depth of his alienation and aching solitude.”

Sa’aan demurred, “Much worse. Even when I was terribly lonely at school, or just tooling around by myself on my bike, I always knew that I had a home and a family who loved me, and Dad’s a bit like me as well, so I felt a lot more ‘normal’ than Ishmael ever did. The orcas aren’t quite like the Purists — they’re more connected with reality than that — but they’re very conservative about social interactions and behavior, so he really didn’t have anyone. He’s been like that for thirty years.”

Leana whistled, a mental trick Sa’aan still hadn’t mastered, “So if he thinks at the same rate you do now, that’s like, two hundred and fifty years in subjective orca time?”

“Something like that. He says he knew I’d be along eventually, so he kept hoping to meet me.”

“Nope. The whales, he says, have an idea that a sort of mystical ‘shortcut’ will appear to do something whose details seem a little vague, even to him, but evidently all the orcas know about it, even if their knowledge is somewhat sketchy. He was contacted by a whale, then told that he wasn’t the one they were looking for, and that was that. Thank you very much. Good day! Just as I might have, he intuited from that brief interaction that the time was ripe, as he put it, for someone like himself to come along, so he resolved to wait. The fact that I turned out to be female was, I think, an unexpected bonus… for both of us.” Sa’aan could feel the the sudden warmth of affection from her sister in response to her last remark, but she made no immediate comment on her frank admission.

“How romantic, and how very strange,” she mused. “There’s a Tei al-Ard mentioned in discussions of the Quran, a ‘folding of the Earth,’ which probably originated in a similar Jewish concept, the Kitzur Ha-Derekh, or Kefitzat Ha-Derekh, the ‘shortcut’ that the Tzadikkim were supposedly able to use to perform miraculous good deeds, but I think it usually referred to physical transportation rather than any personal quality, what would probably be termed psychokinesis or teleportation today. Is he saying that he thinks you’re some sort of Tzidkanit?”

Sa’aan was a little uncomfortable with the idea of being a saint, but was at least open to the possibility of something a little less unworldly than the Hebrew term hinted at. “That remains to be seen, I think, although he seems convinced. The proof will lie in my interaction with the whale we’re out here to find.”

“So how long do you think all this will take?” her sister said impatiently.

Sa’aan guessed that there were two levels to her sister’s question, so answered the most obvious first, “In the narrow sense, probably just a day or two, maybe even today, since Ishmael says there are whales on their way toward us even now; he passed them on his way to meet me. In the broader sense, which I assume was what you were actually hinting at, I want to wait until I complete my formal education, and perhaps arrange a few more details in my life, before I have children.”

She blushed again. “Frankly, I don’t think I’m going to want to let many years go by, although he says he’s willing to wait as long as I need. I want him to go to school as well, although he’s very smart and knows a lot already, but he needs to have a presence on the land — where he’ll be harder to ignore — and the respectability offered by credentials in the human world. Also, that will put him on an even level with me, and I don’t want him to feel inferior in any way. He has an ego that seems impervious to that sort of feeling, but one never knows.”

Sa’aan could hear the slight skepticism in her voice, and hastened to reassure her, “Not at all, more like very confident and sure of his way in life. He reminds me a lot of Dad — in the way he treats me and talks to me — and behaves a lot like Dad does toward Mom. He’s very deferential, which seems a little weird to me, because he’s so much older than I am. He even sounds like Dad sometimes, which is totally bizarre.”

“Well, he grew up in a matrilineal and effectively matriarchal society, so the respect part isn’t all that strange. You’re sitting in the catbird seat I’d guess, and can probably wrap him around your figurative pinky.” Leana seemed very pleased by this observation.

Sa’aan knew that too, and it was part of what made her feel so safe around him, even though he outweighed her many times over. She confessed, “I know I could, and that makes me want him even more, the idea that he’s already mine. I almost did him last night, and it was only partly physiological. But then I realized that one of my eggs was ready to go as well, and that put a damper on my little fire.”

“Couldn’t you have handled that on your own?” Leana was obviously puzzled, since she knew that Sa’aan was now a powerful healer.

“I could have, but I didn’t want to. That egg seemed very important to me just then, and taking time out for a little impromptu ovicide wasn’t really conducive to the mood. And then I thought he’d probably feel funny about it too.”

“I wouldn’t count on that,” she scoffed. “Males are pretty much the same everywhere, and usually much more interested in the preliminary activities than the eventual results. Besides, orcas are top predators, and quite used to the idea of the survival of the fittest by your own account, so the loss of a random egg or two that happened to be in the wrong place at the right time probably wouldn’t faze him. I noticed too, that the boys we had lunch with out in the Strait on the day of our big adventure didn’t seem all that worried about spilling their seed ‘inappropriately.’ Most females mentioned in the literature seem to give birth around once in every five to ten years at best, so there’s obviously at least some nookie being had without concomitant motherhood.”

Sa’aan wasn’t quite convinced, although the idea had a certain appeal. “You might also have noticed the seventeen months or so of pregnancy mentioned in that literature, and nursing for two years or more,” she groused. “Maybe they just don’t have time for all that much sex, what with the thrill of almost a year and a half of pregnancy and then being a harried mommy and all.”

Leana chuffed again, “Piffle. Who cares what ordinary orcas do anyway? You’re both half-human and can make up your own rules as you go along, like all the rest of us.”

“True,” Sa’aan admitted, “we both decided that as as well. It won’t take that long to finish my education anyway. I’ve already decided not to go to high school; it would be a huge waste of time since I can probably knock off the coursework in a month or two and neither my social interaction skills nor the other kid’s sense of self-esteem are going to be improved by our being yoked together. It’s even a mitzvah

Leana crowed, “Which means, of course, that you and Ishmael will be in school together!”

“Well,” Sa’aan said demurely, “I had thought of that aspect as well.”

“You clever girl! I see you’ve learned a thing or two from your big sister!” she laughed.

Sa’aan would have raised an eyebrow if she had any. “Some things, dear Jie-jie, I figured out on my own, in spite of your

It was late afternoon before a heavily-pregnant grey whale swam by. Sa’aan was actually the first to notice the sound of her blows, far to the northwest, but Ishmael noted seconds later that she sounded like the last of those he’d overtaken on his way down the coast, which meant that there was a small group of three grey whales close behind,

She decided to alert her companions immediately, including Leana, “Nakia, Edith, Leana, there’s a grey whale coming this way, and we’ll meet in perhaps thirty minutes at our current rate of travel. We might want to think about slowing down so we have time to set out the launch.”

“I agree,” Edith confirmed, and then went offline to handle the details of their coming encounter. “We can continue at our present speed for fifteen minutes and still have time to lower the launch and prepare ourselves. I’ll tell the Captain if you’ll relay your best guess as to her present course, speed, and location to his BioLync. I’ll let him make the final judgments, since he knows his boat and craft far better than I.”

Nakia and Edith went below to change into their gear while Sa’aan, Ishmael and Leana prepared themselves for the coming encounter by other means.

Ishmael began with his advice, “She will, moya rodnaya, speak in a very low range, since baleen whales don’t have a well-developed sense of echolocation, and will most likely question you perfunctorily, but these surface pleasantries mean nothing. In my own encounter, my interlocutor was relatively terse — one might even say inarticulate — and seemed to expect me to do something on my own with which I had no previous experience nor skill, offering no hint as to the need for any particular action. It was a riddle as impenetrable to me as those offered by the Zen masters, whose questions betray no trace of ordinary logic, nor is there any surety that there is any answer at all. Whatever it is she needs will surely have to come from within you, and is probably not one of the things you know that I can do.”

Here was a puzzle. What was it that she could do that Ishmael couldn’t? She knew he had the same range of general abilities that she did, perhaps more raw power as a telepath, a similar ability to extrapolate from a handful of clues, identifying the patterns, or hypotheses, that best accounted for all the data. She knew he was a powerful healer; his own healthy body was testament to that. But she evidently had a previously unknown ability to affect the powers of others that looked promising. Then again, she had no idea how it worked, or even what it was she did that caused the supposed effects. In fact, the first instance that she knew of had taken place when she’d thought that she was being acted upon rather than the reverse.

Maybe she wasn’t the cause at all, but a conduit or catalyst for something else, not an actor but a facilitator and participant, as innocent of purpose as a wishing well.

Unfortunately, this line of thought brought her no closer to a solution. Miriam’s well had supposedly followed her about, overflowing with living waters, even in the midst of the desert wilderness, but here she was in the midst of living waters and no well in sight.

She decided that the key must lie in what had happened at the start of all this, because that was the only experience she could think of that Ishmael and she didn’t have in common. “Leana, when we were at the orca exhibit, did you have any clue that I might have been the cause of whatever it was that we experienced?”

Sa’aan pursued the point, growing ever more certain that this was the correct line of inquiry, “But what if we were wrong? I remember thinking at the time that it was you, or the orcas, and the ‘I did it’ theory was handed to me after I’d recovered. But what if we all did it, Nakia, you, the orcas, even Mr. Jefferson, and me? What if the feeling I had then, that we were all connected, were true?”

“We are, of course,” said Ishmael. “All of us are part of a complex web of life with mutual dependencies as common as the air we breathe. The bacteria that live on my skin and yours help keep it free of dangerous organisms, cleaner fish gently scour my skin of other creatures who want to make themselves at home on me. The very mitochondria that give us energy and life are sojourners of such intimate and long acquaintance that most humans consider them to be part of their own cells, if they think of them at all.”

“True, but what if there were something more, some special relationship involving Chimeræ in particular — although whatever it might be could also touch the rest of life as well — and that was what Leana, Nakia, and I felt at AquaWorld?”

Ishmael thought about this and then replied, “That would be interesting, but I wouldn’t know how to go about proving it, or even what it would mean.”

“Wei!” Nakia said, having stepped out on deck in the same outfit she’d had on before and reëntered the conversation with no clue as to what had been going on recently. “Did you get into any mischief while my back was turned?”

“Of course,” Leana said airily. “We had all the fun while you two were primping in the dressing room.”

Edith had come out on deck on Nakia’s heels and said in mock affront, “I heard that! If you’re going to hog all the excitement, I’ll just take my little boat and go home!”

Sa’aan joined in with, “Um, Edith? I hate to point this out, but you and Nakia are actually the only ones on the boat.”

“Oh. Well, never mind then,” she said with a wink. “The Captain says he’s picked up the sounds of our guest on the hydrophone, so will be heaving to directly. All in all, it looks like we might see some fun as well, so you’re forgiven.”

The crew were already preparing to lower the launch as before, and the cutter swung into the wind quite smartly, heaving to with a display of skillful seamanship which was a pleasure to behold, with the individual actions of each participant choreographed to perfection as a matter of individual skill and careful attention and adaptation to the actions of the others involved in the performance. Soon enough, the sleek vessel was hove to and riding nicely in the swell, the launch was over the side, held snugly to the hull by two of the crew while first Edith and then Nakia clambered adroitly down to the heaving cockpit.

And then they were away, smoothly making a course toward the predicted appearance of the grey whale, while Ishmael and Sa’aan announced themselves as residents, lest they be mistaken for transients, who sometimes preyed upon unwary solitary greys when easier meat was unavailable.

Ishmael spoke first, “We’ll want to let her pass, and then fall in beside her, but not too closely. The whales rarely stop to lark about on their journey south, so we’ll undoubtedly need to keep moving with her, complaisant with her internal timetable. The Coast Guard boat can remain where it is, to minimize distractions, while your friends tag along at a slightly greater remove.”

Edith answered, “I understand. I’ll tell the boatswain and follow your lead, since you have experience with them and I don’t. I don’t mind, though, saying that this is very exciting. I’ve never had the chance of being so close to a whale, so the prospect is thrilling.”

“Let me assure you,” he said, “that it’s a bit of a thrill for me as well. The physical sensation of swimming next to a being that large and so perfectly adapted to its duty is satisfying on many levels, although I’m given to understand that in many generations past they were much more talkative than this one is likely to prove. Perhaps we’ll be lucky.”

Ishmael gazed at her fondly, emitting a series of ranging clicks to illuminate her fully to his deep perception, “That, I think, is guaranteed.”

Sa’aan was warmed by his gaze, and even more so because she recognized the ranging clicks as a gesture of affection, as a human might caress the familiar outline of a hand, a shoulder. She responded with a similar series of clicks, and swam to brush against his side briefly before twisting away, herself a full participant in the dance of growing love between them. She said, for his ears only, “Moi rodnoi, this journey is but the first of many we will take together.”

He answered in the same way, “Cara mia! I see you’ve been taking advantage of your connection to this net of yours. I’ll have to consider the utility of this — perhaps being a cyborg has its advantages.”

And then the whale was upon them, a pregnant female of perhaps twenty, who glanced at them as she cruised on by without slowing down nor speeding up, and neither did she turn aside.

“Here we go,” she said, as she turned to accompany the whale on her way, with Ishmael close beside her a bit farther away, and the launch with Nakia and Edith aboard following along behind the three of them. Ishmael had been right. Here beside the whale she felt the pulsations of her movements directly, deep in her body and her mind, the gestalt of them as eloquent as Ishmael’s words, telling of the millions of years of history behind her, and asking an unspoken question, elaborated by an incredibly low-pitched and slow variation of the orca language, which felt oddly ‘fuzzy’ and ill-defined to her sensory systems. Sa’aan gave her best answer, none-the-less, relating her history and lineage, including both her human and orca ancestors as best she knew, still shaky on her genealogy on her great grandmother’s side, as slowly and in as low a tone as she could manage.

The whale acknowledged her presence with an elaborated and low-resolution image of first two, then three whales swimming in synchrony, their movements perfectly matched, and then they swam apart. That’s all she said, and whether it was a question or a statement Sa’aan had not the slightest clue. Her utterance appeared to have few, if any, of the subtle overtones and interactions contained in orca speech, but was fairly precise given the low resolution of her infrasonic speech. Sa’aan could visualize the depicted whales’ every movement, knowing that everything about them, including their breathing, was as exquisitely coördinated as the Rockettes dance team in the ancient vids.

Not knowing what else to do, she continued to swim alongside the whale, as it continued on its way down to the Mexican lagoon which was the whales’ ancestral nursery. She thought about that. She connected to the net and read that the whales had continued to give birth there, even after the old whaling ships had found the place and might kill thousands in a season. They must have had the curiosity and skills required to find the lagoon on their own at one time, but had continued their habitual practices even when they became maladaptive. It was as if they were all victims of obsessive-compulsive disorder, which further net access revealed was now known to have been associated with an abnormality in the neurotransmitter serotonin, with various accompanying pathologies. Low levels of this hormone, or distorted versions of it caused by genetic defects or environmental damage, might lead not only to obsessive-compulsive disorder, but also to anxiety disorders, clinical depression, bipolar disorder, and intense religious experience.

There was a common thread there, but Sa’aan couldn’t quite see it. “What unifying factor connects obsessive-compulsive disorder, anxiety disorders, clinical depression, bipolar disorder, and intense religious experience?” she asked the others curiously. She was just beginning to see a hint of a pattern.

Leana answered first, “They’re all associated with problems in the reticular formation and serotonin metabolism?”

Leana elaborated, “It’s an ancient part of the brain stem associated with stereotypical activities, most of the things we do without thinking, like walking around or swimming, running, sleeping, having sex, sleeping, eating, drinking, fighting, urinating, reacting to perceived dangers by fleeing, and so on.”

Sa’aan asked the obvious question, “So they’re part of what we might call our animal nature? Something shared by us all, humans, orcas, elephants, bears, gerbils, and so on?” A neural defect might explain why the whales weren’t acting rationally lately, assuming they’d experienced some sort of mass serotonin deficit, but why all of them at once?

“Well, yes, to some degree at least,” Leana continued. “All creatures have a repertoire of stereotyped activities hard-coded into their reticular formation, if their brains are differentiated enough to need one. They can be quite complex, like the migratory behavior of birds and sea turtles, or the complex patterns of actions involved in preparing for and entering hibernation.”

Sa’aan thought about this for a while, and than asked, “Ordinarily, it sounds like we’d be able to control these pre-programmed behaviors, but if higher brain functions weren’t able to override or modify these behaviors for any reason, what might happen?”

“Well,” Leana admitted, “I think we’d see behaviors which would seem more or less instinctive or compulsive, depending on the degree of higher brain function available. I haven’t had all that much pathology, since hardly anyone has these sorts of diseases any more, although my anatomy and endocrine knowledge is pretty good. Should I call a real doctor and ask?”

“I don’t think so,” Sa’aan said firmly. “I’m beginning to see a general pattern and we probably don’t need particularly detailed advice from an expert in human diseases. So with any impairment in higher brain function, whether because of intoxication, neurotransmitter disorders, seizures, or physical injury, I think we’d also see intermediate states in which individuals have trouble distinguishing between fantasies and reality, identify remembered or imagined voices as present entities, or mistake the ability to perform a stereotyped action as the uncontrollable desire to do so. We’d see beings who lived a waking nightmare, in which he or she is an unwilling participant in what seems like someone else’s life. We’d see the person who talks to God, or Satan, confident that God or Satan is talking back.”

Leana thought before replying, “Well, yes. I read in my endocrinology textbook that there was a man hundreds of years ago who refused to take the medications which had successfully controlled his epileptic seizures, since, according to his own ‘perfectly sensible’ explanation, God had stopped talking to him because he took them, which he naturally interpreted as a sign of God’s anger.” She paused for breath and then continued, “It was quite impossible to dissuade him from this belief, as the doctor’s advice obviously didn’t come directly from God. And compliance with medication regimens was always spotty for many of the brain diseases, either because the afflicted individuals were impaired or disorganized because of the underlying disease, or because the sensations engendered by the disease were seen as so desirable that the patients refused to give them up. Now, of course, these pathologies are cured during pregnancy by the attending healer, or are eliminated during chimeric transition if they happen to have been missed.”

Nakia cautioned, “Except that the Purists, and others like them, avoid being treated by Chimeræ as if the plague could be transmitted as easily as catching a cold used to be, so they do in fact catch colds and who knows what else.”

“Which might explain several things about them, but I’m thinking of this in relation to the whales,” Sa’aan mused aloud. “Well, that seems to be all I can do in the form of background, so there’s no time like the present to become more personally involved.” With that, she plunged her consciousness into the body and mind of the whale.

When she touched the mind of the grey whale, she wasn’t sure at first what she felt, and then it grew, blossoming like a flower of blood across her visual field, a schizophrenic nightmare overwhelming her with power, with a strange dissociation between her own mind and the incredible slowness of the whale’s consciousness. It was as if she’d stepped into glue, or quicksand, and her mind was mired in a slow-motion descent into the abyss. She screamed aloud, fighting for her life, and struggled to free herself from the grip of this… this… alien brain, engaging one half of her brain more deeply and trying to pull the other half clear, as one might try to free one foot from deep mud. “Everybody, keep clear!” She could feel her split thought contact the others, yet was unable to say how this was possible, since most of both sides of her brain were slowed to the glacial pace of the whale’s impossibly slow consciousness. She must have regained some control on one side at least. She continued, “The whale’s consciousness is divided between a rather ordinary cetacean mind, somewhat like that of my great grandmother only much less clever, and what seems like the remnants of another, more powerful mind, but stunningly slow, almost somnolent, as if it were in a trance. It will grab you if you touch it, and it won’t let go.”

Garbled sounds in Nakia’s voice intruded on the deadly contest in which she was desperately engaged, entirely committed, trying not to give ground and sink into nothingness, but she couldn’t make sense of them. Evidently she didn’t have processing power to spare. Then she heard, more clearly, “

Sa’aan struggled to concentrate, “Not yet. If I stop breathing, please try to keep my body afloat and my blowhole above the surface; Leana can keep me breathing.” And then, she felt the tendrils of Leana’s mind at the back of hers, augmenting Ishmael’s gentle touch. Alarmed, she tried to warn them both, “Leana, Ishmael, stop….”

Leana thought sharply, flooding Sa’aan’s mind with power and love, “Stop being foolish, Mei-mei. This brain is obviously comatose. What does one do with comatose brains? Thrash around trying to muddle them even more than they are already?”

Ishmael added, “Moya rodnaya, dear heart, I’ve encountered these beings before. I know well what I’m doing. Nor would I fall back from your side even if I knew it meant my inevitable death. There is a proper dignity and proportion to be observed in the performance of every act of life.” Their combined strength flooded her mind, and allowed her to regain full control.

Sa’aan looked again, and saw that what she’d seen as a cunning trap was more like panic. The whale’s other consciousness was struggling to hold on to life, and Sa’aan was the closest thing to life she could find, at which she’d clutched like a drowning person hangs on to a piece of lumber. With more sympathy, Sa’aan soothed her, lent her strength, aided at first by Leana’s skill, and then joined by Ishmael’s calming support and healing as he swam close by her side. As the female’s panic eased, her grip on Sa’aan’s mind lessened and she began approaching what seemed like normalcy. Her thought processes were speeding up to match that of those around her rather than the reverse. Sa’aan asked Leana rhetorically, “Wake them?”

Leana answered, “Exactly. Stop trying to fight her and start healing her instead. She’s badly hurt. You have the power to help her. Use your strength! Use ours as well.”

Easier said than done, but Sa’aan started to think things through. The female’s normal consciousness was doing fine, although not nearly as sharp as that of her great grandmother, but the other consciousness was somehow starved, as if her neurotransmitters were defective, although they seemed fine on first inspection, or perhaps as if oxygen wasn’t getting to her brain, or as if she’d had a stroke…. A stroke! She carefully inspected the female’s brain and saw no signs of cerebrovascular damage, and then started feeling around the other consciousness itself, trying to trace its connection to the whale’s normal brain. To her amazement, the primary pathways led to the vocal and auditory centers of the female’s brain, and to her sonar sensorium, with only tenuous connections to her other cognitive and sensory centers. Not only that, but Sa’aan’s sense of the other ‘brain’ was that it was somehow partially disassociated from the whale’s actual body. Curiouser and curiouser, Sa’aan thought to herself, and then she had it.

The pull had lessened, as if the unconscious ‘brain’ knew that something was being done, and she began making a series of very complex vocal calls whose nature mystified Sa’aan, as they didn’t sound anything like typical orca language as she understood it. She asked another rhetorical question of Leana, already sure of the answer, “When is a processor never single-threaded?”

“I think so too,” she confirmed. “The whale’s other consciousness seems to be structured as a part of a massively parallel asynchronous multiprocessor. Can you all help me? I have the pull under control, or she does. I’m not sure which it is.”

Ishmael’s support, of course, was always available to her without extraneous declaration. It surprised her a little, how quickly she’d come to take that for granted.

“Mostly, try to keep me breathing if anything goes wrong, which I don’t think it will. Ishmael can handle keeping me afloat and some of the physiology, I think, but your help would be a boon, since you’re more familiar with my body. And if you see anything interesting, tell me.”

Sa’aan turned her attention fully to the female’s higher consciousness, now confident that there were connections, neural pathways, leading elsewhere. But where? She started tracing and noticed that the pathways to the auditory centers were especially robust. Checking further, the vocal pathways were similarly robust, as were the channels to the sonar sensorium. On a hunch, she looked more carefully at the ‘melon,’ the densely-packed structure of sensors, nerves, and fat that allowed cetaceans to capture and process sound into three-dimensional images, and the paralimbic lobe, a structure unique to cetaceans. The paralimbic lobe was filled with connections to the skin, and to the entirety of the whale’s sensorium, which would seem to imply that the whale was a natural synæsthete, inherently capable of forming mental associations between everything which happened around her on many levels.

Thinking back, she recalled instances of the orcas, in particular, acting almost as if they shared a single body, performing spectacular feats of spontaneous coördination that should have been impossible, even for a trained human dancer. Could they actually have been sharing thoughts? The orca language, too, shared more with thought than ordinary speech in some ways. The images conveyed acted directly within the brain, so that the resulting communication was more like a direct experience — or a memory — than something one had merely heard. Because relationships were encoded as well as facts, an orca could convey feelings as well as information, and other channels were possible. Sa’aan began to wonder if that’s how she’d known how her great grandmother was feeling, that she was sensing something physical that born orcas took for granted, a more or less direct connection to another’s mind. Swimming beside the whale, her entire sensorium was involved, visually, aurally through her jaw and forehead, tactile sensations on her skin, all these inputs feeding into a brain less differentiated than that of humans, where all the inputs collected in her own paralimbic lobe, and were theoretically accessible to her, although she hadn’t been consciously aware of it up to now.

She began exploring her own brain, puzzling out pathways until she stumbled on an integrative feeling of serenity and well-being that astonished her. It was like the descriptions of the Samadhi — or Kensho — experience in Buddhist writings, in which one first becomes aware of one’s True-Nature, the True-Nature of Creation, and the boundaries between Self and Other dissolve. Now more fully aware, she moved on to Satori, the semi-permanent extension of Samadhi into time, and her consciousness expanded to encompass all of reality.

Sa’aan split her consciousness into two streams to handle differing aspects of the current situation, looking after the whale using the left half her brain:

Deeply immersed in the cusp between action and non-action, she merged her consciousness with that of the whale, for the first time fully aware of her own power to elicit an improved response from the extrasensory powers of another’s mind, a metaphysical version of the Zen koan, the teaching story through which an aspirant comes to enlightenment. She reached out and touched the whale’s brain, and caused its other consciousness to flow along another path, fully entangled in the multi-dimensional quantum processes of the Universe. Just as Huineng

The Sixth and Last Patriarch of Chán (Zen) Buddhism, who developed the concept and method of sudden enlightenment.

‘How amazing that the self nature is originally pure!
How amazing that the self nature is unborn and undying!
How amazing that the self nature is inherently complete!
How amazing that the self nature neither moves nor stays!
How amazing that all dharmas come from this self nature!’

had exposed the fiction of duality between reality and mind, Sa’aan realized that reality doesn’t exist without mind, and that the two are integral parts of the same continuum.

A further realization flowed from this, that the Universe and consciousness had evolved together, the act of conscious observation collapsing the quantum wave function of the raw continuum throughout space and time, fixing both past and future in spooky synchronicity, simultaneously ensuring that the Universe was hospitable to the minds — or Mind — which sprang from it and by which it was refined. Sa’aan was reminded of the Escher lithograph entitled Drawing Hands, in which two hands seemingly rise off of the flat stone into which they and the seeming paper they draw upon are engraved, expanding into three dimensions, grasping the tools by means of which they create each other.

In a deep sense, what Sa’aan had seen as the orca worldview of mutual dependence and coöperation extended throughout the Universe. Minds unknown had helped to shape what we now see, and in turn we help to shape the minds and space-time reality that shaped us, culminating in the other end point of time, the singularity at which Mind can observe the entirety of Creation at once, and which in turn completes the collapse of quantum uncertainty into more-or-less stable everything-there-is. It was a strange variation of the myth of Pygmalion and Galatea, through which thoughts take on form and substance, in which we behold the Universe and in so doing create ourselves. In the beginning, the universe was without form and void, until the first tentative consciousness arose, and the Æther, the Quintessence, coalesced into a first approximation of reality.

Once the process of awakening the whale’s latent psychic power was complete, she extended herself through the new connections she’d made possible into the nearest cetacean minds in geometric sequence, spreading out across the Earth from each new epicenter of change, but somehow able to maintain her individual awareness of thousands of separate entities simultaneously and work the same changes throughout as her I merged losslessly into an endless We. And the cetacean overmind began to wake up, more powerful than anything she’d ever experienced before, but available, welcoming, not overwhelming. She drew aside for a moment more.

Now she worked on the the whales’ collective genome and epigenome, drawing on the original deep understanding she saw reflected in their work, copying what she now saw as the relevant portions of her own genetic bases and modifiers, or their equivalent, and those of Ishmael by comparison, to ensure that this new ability bred true through successive generations of new whales, fitting them more precisely for their tasks. When we saw what she was doing, we began our own shaping, and the process exploded into full connection, each mind linked to the whole yet paradoxically retaining some measure of free will and individuality, as well as an intimate collective consciousness and empathic collaboration.

Then we examined the nexus of our ancient work on the planetary genetic cloud, a pièce de résistance

The most important, remarkable, or astonishing feature of a work of art or science. French.

of applied evolution, and made a few corrections to speed its progress through the biosphere, incidentally ensuring that the lines between the more and less visibly hybridized Chimeræ blurred more rapidly toward their most productive outcome, then moving along the same paths to touch the minds of every present combined healer and telepath, including Nakia, Leana, Ishmael, many other healing Chimeræ, and then on into the other Chimeræ and the more powerful chimeric animals, ensuring that they all had access to the same planetary mind, and were able to make their own unique contributions to the evolving Mind of Gaia, slightly sharpening the quantum Perception that is in the ’pataphysical process of shaping the universe towards burgeoning Life and Mind.

In short, we spread our powers throughout the world, embodying the spirit of the true Kefitzat HaDerech — The Breakthrough — קפיצת הדרך, or more properly the Kitzur HaDerech — The Shortcut — קיצור הדרך, of esoteric tradition, offering this redemptive new reality to the world rather than hoarding it for ourselves, the perfect bodhisattvic response to personal and collective enlightenment.

Ishmael’s strength and love, especially, but also her sister’s and Nakia’s chesed flooded through her as she contemplated her new perspective on the universe, and grasped the Ein Sof — אין סוף — Sins Sagaana — in its entirety, that was the limitless Dark Energy that lay at the heart of reality, the primal ground from which this universe emerged and which leaked across the dimensions to affect both gravitational interactions and the powers channeled by Chimeræ. She saw that there were boundless possibilities inherent in it, and that the quantum barrier between it and the ordinary physical universe was permeable in truly interesting ways, some amenable to mental manipulation by those with sufficient power. Here was the prolegomena for a new synthesis of mind and matter, and a new vista for scientific inquiry and exploration.

Meanwhile, she’d used the right half of her brain to maintain her constant communication with the others, with no diminishment of attention or focus.

Still in that state, she shared her full perception with the others and, as they became individually aware, each to the extent possible for them, turned to the problem of the whale.

It wasn’t hard to figure out; the whales had been sharing thoughts and feelings over long distances through sonic pathways that had broken down as the oceans were flooded with sound, and as the whales themselves were slaughtered. The seas were quieter now, but the whale populations were still declining in many places, under the pressure of continued whaling and the diminishment of the frigid but productive Arctic and Antarctic habitats that had once offered maximum biological productivity and diversity. At the speed of sound, their higher consciousness couldn’t remain awake and had gradually gone to sleep, which had deepened into partial coma. She linked to the whale herself, along the mental pathways she’d discovered, and the whale’s higher consciousness slowly came to life, instinctively reaching out to her fellows. In turn, the female reached out to her nearest neighbors, and found them, each step faster then the next. It was a chain-reaction — as each new whale was added to the link, in turn linking others, the whale overmind exploded into full consciousness and awareness. Sa’aan could see that her own particular gift, that of enhancing the mental powers of others, allowed the whales to overcome their former limitations in speed of communication along their sonic ‘bus,’ replacing them with pure thought. The formerly-torpid giant came up to speed, which was very fast indeed. Sa’aan was part of it, though not fully subsumed, her perception of the cetacean overmind encompassing the entirety of the ocean surface in a data mesh whose vertices were individual whales.

At this size, the collective psychic sensorium of the cetaceans was capable of extraördinary resolution, able to examine the Earth in fine detail and with an angular discrimination nearing subatomic structures. It was no wonder that the whale overmind had been able to puzzle out the structure of the planetary genetic cloud and act on it, although their formerly slow thought processes had limited the speed with which they could act.

Leana and Nakia, both sensitive to healing powers, were almost fully immersed in the process, while Ishmael was with her as if he’d been born to it and so Sa’aan touched their brains as well with the enhanced connections to the overmind. Edith, looking on, but one step removed from the psychic reality because she lacked the healing gift, could tell that something very strange was happening, because the linking of the separate bits of whale consciousness, combined with her own contribution of telepathic power, was accompanied by a flood of raw psychic energy, but it was proceeding at such high speed that the process seemed instantaneous, like turning on a light in a dark room.

Edith, least affected, spoke first, “Oh, dear, Sa’aan. You’ve done something very odd indeed. But what is it exactly?”

Leana and Nakia were still dazed, intoxicated with the moment of satori, so she answered simply, “I healed the large cetaceans. All of them, evidently. Their collective mind had gone into a partial coma sometime in the eighteen or nineteen hundreds, I think, under the pressure of whaling mostly, but eventually also overwhelmed by the noise from mechanical steamships, which interfered with their thought processes, but now they’re fully awake.”

Leana, just now able to focus on the external world, observed dryly, “You realize, dear sister, that we all have to take the Bodhisattva Vow

The vow made by an individual who is motivated to attain Buddhahood and the Ten Perfections (generosity, virtue, renunciation, insight, diligence, tolerance, honesty, determination, loving-kindness, serenity) for the benefit of all sentient beings.

now.”

Sa’aan answered, “Not a problem. I’ve always been that way inclined.”

Leana asked, “Did I just participate in the start of a new religion?”

“Probably,” Sa’aan replied. “Many lives have been changed forever, all around the world. One million two hundred and seventy-three human Chimeræ by my count, and a much larger number of others less able to grasp the enormity of this paradigm shift for our little corner of the Universe, even a few on Mars and in the scientific habitats off-Earth. Whether people choose to see that change in religious contexts is up to them, but I doubt that most existing religions will survive unchanged.”

“Jing-tsai!” her sister exclaimed. “It’s about time someone lit a fire under the silly lotus eaters.”

Nakia finally roused herself, saying first, with great passion, “Allahu

God. Arabic.

… ! My head hurts!”

Sa’aan answered, kindly, “I’m sorry. It couldn’t be helped. Some brains were more difficult than others.”

“You changed my brain again,” Nakia said with a mixture of accusation and wonder.

Sa’aan answered, “Yes, or rather I helped the whales complete their long purpose. It amounts to the same thing, since I was the stepping stone on their path. The whales are all healed now, and the whale overmind is fully conscious. You, Leana, and Ishmael of course, now have the ability to enter that congress at will; others can achieve it with more difficulty, but it’s fully accessible to almost all Chimeræ now, not just the large cetaceans.”

Leana whistled, “So Mom was right; we true Chimeræ are the future of the world.”

Ishmael agreed, “Yes, and the only remaining superpower. We must all practice compassion and love toward one another.”

Using the left half of her brain to continue her scientific ruminations at length, she eventually felt that she should get back to the real world and its problems.

At last, she filed this observation away for future contemplation and expansion and turned to the problems of this fragile world.

As we examined our surroundings, Sa’aan, still fully present and self-aware, yet subsumed within and part of a greater whole, became aware of several whales in distress. Dispersing our attention, we noted that they were being chased by fast ‘catcher’ boats in several widely separated locations, and in various stages of danger.

Focusing on each small ship in turn, she saw that each was cynically identified as a RESEARCH vessel, and all flew Japanese flags. The most immediate danger was posed by the aptly-named Same Maru

Shark circle. Japanese.

, in hot pursuit of a Southern Right Whale, so she studied the problem at length, although the ship itself moved less than an inch during her extended contemplation.

Reflecting on what she’d done previously to the rifle held by her sister’s erstwhile assailant, she reëxamined her actions and saw that she’d inadvertently pushed an infinitesimal portion of it into another dimensional continuum, the realm of dark energy, whose influence on the visible universe leaked across the dimensions in an attenuated form. It was the slight release of energy as the few atoms she’d affected had passed sloppily through what was ordinarily an existential barrier which had caused the gun to explode, but now she saw that her technique had been faulty. With the precision and control now available to her, mediated through the cetacean overmind, she could achieve the same effect without the messy spillage of energy, slipping the entirety of an object though the barrier into a reality in which atomic forces as we know them didn’t exist, there to disperse without trace into a primordial sea of energy and neutral particles, ready for the next Universe to arise.

Taking her cue, she concentrated on the harpoon platform and cannon of the Same Maru

Shark circle. Japanese.

’s prow and tipped it smoothly into the gulf, simultaneously throwing the gunner safely, more or less, to the deck behind him just as his finger had been tightening on the trigger mechanism.

That done, she did the same to every catcher craft, whether in pursuit or not, across the Southern Ocean, then circling out to catch all those currently in transit, pulling their ‘teeth,’ as it were, and then went looking for their associated factory ships. The first she found was the paradoxically-significant Kujira Maru

Whale circle. Maru, or ‘circle,’ is a common element in Japanese ship names, because they were originally conceived of as round fortresses against the boisterous waves, and also because a suffixed maru is an indication of endearment, as one might ‘circle’ someone in an embrace. Japanese.

, so she chose it as her example to the world.

Looking carefully, she saw that the ship was making slow headway through the seas, enough to maintain her steerage while she waited for her ‘catcher’ boats to return hauling the carcasses of murdered whales. She promptly opened a large hole in its bow by simply ‘tipping’ a neatly curved arc of metal into the void, then bent the resulting flap out into the bow wave, whereupon the ship shuddered and began to go in slow circles while the crew looked around in amazement.

Sa’aan opened a link to the whaler, with relays to the major news networks, and spoke forcefully, “Ohayo gozaimasu! Anata wa eigo o hanashimasu ka?

Good morning. Do you speak English?

”

Someone answered, in fluent English with a trace of Hong Kong. She noticed from the answering EUI and a quick search of public records that the speaker appeared to be the captain of the vessel, “I speak English and your accent is atrocious. What do you want? We have an emergency here that requires my immediate attention.”

“Well, Captain, in the long run, I want Japan and every other whaling nation to stop whaling, and world peace

This is partly Sa’aan’s little joke, because she loved the antique ‘Miss Congeniality’ vid a lot, almost as much as ‘The Addams Family.’

, of course, but for now I want you to contact your superiors and arrange a rescue for you and every other Japanese whaler on the high seas, on its way out or returning. That includes, by the way, all such vessels in port, anywhere in the world. Within twenty-four hours, they will not be safe places to be near. They needn’t leave harbor, as there won’t be anything left to encumber anyone, nor any metal to salvage.”

“What do you mean? You’re crazy!” he shouted angrily.

Sa’aan continued remorselessly, “In the name of the cetaceans of the world, I’m confiscating your vessel, and all the rest of the Japanese whaling fleet. You’ll be given every opportunity to don your survival suits, deploy your lifeboats, and arrange for transport out of this region of the world, but your vessel will remain exactly where it is until it can be disposed of, which won’t be long at all. The weather is relatively clement, so I doubt that you’ll be in much danger.”

He sputtered, “You can’t do that! You have no right! This is ridiculous!”

Sa’aan answered calmly, “We have every right. And it’s by no means a joke. Did you ask us for permission to hunt and murder whales? We have the right of power, just as you and your fellows have had for hundreds of years. You’re engaged in an act of piracy and premeditated murder in our sovereign waters, and we’re in a unique position to suppress all such acts of genocide, crimes against the global œcology, and other fell conspiracies. I’m sure that you’ve been notified of the declarations of the RSA and Canada in the United Nations by now, so this can hardly come as a surprise. I presume, therefore, that your continued presence in these waters is an act of defiance, on the general theory that you’re neither likely to be caught at it nor severely punished if you’re captured. I’m quite willing to disabuse you of that notion by making an example of your vessel, and all other vessels engaged or previously employed in similar acts of piracy. Criminal gangs acting on behalf of your employers or trade associations have tried to murder members of my family and myself, and I see from your cargo that you’ve murdered a good number of my fellows, for which crimes you and your crew will stand trial in due course, so I’m not feeling terribly merciful right now, and have both the high justice and the low within my scope of authority. Are you quite prepared? I’d hate for anyone to be harmed through your inaction and you should be grateful that you have been given a chance to escape with your lives.”

“I refuse. I am the captain of a research vessel on the high seas and you have no legal authority to stop me.”

“On the contrary,” Sa’aan said calmly, “I’m the fully qualified representative of the cetaceans, a sovereign aboriginal nation upon whose worldwide territory you now trespass. A quorum of us are here present and fully qualified to judge your guilt or innocence. There are no more ‘high seas’ in the old sense, as every tiny bit of ocean past the hundred fathom mark — and an arbitrary distance onto the shore and into the interior insofar as they affect our waters — is now owned by the cetaceans of the world in trust for all of life and we’re fully capable of enforcing our property rights. If you like, I’ll demonstrate with the equivalent of a shot across your bow. Look sharp, as your ship is about to be even more seriously impaired than it is now.” With that, she ‘tipped’ much of the uninhabited superstructure and all the interior machinery of the vessel into the same transdimensional continuum, and did the same to the screws and rudders, sending them into oblivion in an instant. The ship started wallowing in the heavy seas almost immediately.

The captain cried out in rapid Japanese, the equivalent of, “What was that? Helmsman, what’s going on?”

Sa’aan answered immediately, “That was your vessel being disabled. There’s already a large hole in the bow through which the ocean is pouring. Your interior watertight doors will be able to handle that for the moment, so you needn’t worry about it for the time you have remaining. Instead, you should worry about us. This vessel will not be leaving these coördinates, but will soon be gone. From all indications, you’re on battery power right now, and really ought to concentrate on saving your own life, and those of your crew. There’s an Argentine cutter less than a hundred miles from your position so, if you send out a distress call promptly, they should arrive well before dark, but only if you call them now. While you’re about it, please tell the other vessels of the whaling fleet to immediately heave to and remain exactly where they are. We’ll allow them to remain under power, for the sake of safety only, and to avoid loss of life, until rescues can be arranged and personal effects recovered, but any attempt to flee will result in loss of power and steering. Further attempts by any captain or crew member to avoid these strictures will result in the loss of the ship, although we’ll leave the small boats behind so they can attempt to save their lives. You might notify your government as well, and tell them to desist immediately from all economic and dissembling ‘scientific’ activities on or under any ocean or sea until the new regime is fully in place, and tell them that any indication of hostile action or belligerence on their part, by any means, whether overt or covert, will be taken as a further declaration of war, and will be met with an overwhelming response which will leave Japan much the poorer. Well, much poorer than they will be soon in any case, since we’ll be instituting a suit for damages and reparations before the World Court in the amount of approximately seven hundred trillion New Yen. The whales have been sleeping for hundreds of years, but we’re awake now. This is the beginning of a new age, in which what passed for political reality will be changed forever. And please also consider that these unpleasant actions today may have saved the lives of your children, and your children’s children, down the long trail of generations.”

The captain was still angry, “What do you mean? You’re crazy!”

Sa’aan replied calmly, “No, Captain, I am not. The Chimeric Plague, which resulted in the loss of billions of human lives, was the direct result of such vessels as yours, busily murdering whales, the ancient guardians of the health of oceans, and destroying the global environment at the same time. It was a literal nightmare caused by disturbing the slow dreams of the whales that caused the Plague which killed billions of human beings, so a few millions of humans died in more-or-less direct exchange for the corpses now in your holds. Does this make you proud?” She looked carefully at his physiological response, and saw that he was beginning to be moved.

“Many of your own family undoubtedly died in agony back then, and you’re intimately involved with the industry that killed them. Have you no shame? No honor? The acceleration of global warming which preceded the Plague, which has caused untold devastation and suffering in coastal areas all around the world, was an indirect result, at least in part. You’ve been a willing part of something more evil, more pernicious in its effects, than the Nazi Holocaust, than the Rwandan Genocide, than the slaughter of the Armenians and the destruction of Carthage, but it’s over now. Your name will go down in history as the last of a particular breed of stupid villain, but your children’s children will live, although they may be embarrassed to admit that they’re descended from you.”

There was a long silence before the captain answered, audibly trying to control his fury, “Very well. I surrender my ship to you. Will you permit my crew to remain aboard. for safety, until the rescue ship arrives?”

“No. You’re in no particular danger, and I have a point to make. I want you to tell your story as widely as possible and as soon as possible, to forestall similar acts of defiance. You have less than one hour to deploy your small boats and life rafts, collect any provisions and stores you might need, secure small personal effects, and abandon your vessel.”

“I accept your terms,” he said reluctantly. “We will comply immediately.”

Sa’aan watched from above while the crew assembled on deck, donned survival suits and deployed every small craft aboard, although some would have to board the life rafts. Having small boats under power would increase their ability to stay together and survive the seas, as well as offer a communications platform to relay the next part of her demonstration.

When they were all on board the boats and rafts, she noticed that the captain was not among them, and opened the channel to his BioLync again, “Captain, I do hope you’re not planning to make a pathetic feudal gesture of loyalty to your criminal employers. It’s your duty to your crew to continue to lead them and to assist in their survival, and your duty to your nation to tell the tale of what you’re about to witness. You can hardly do either if your atoms and subatomic particles are dispersed into infinity. You can either disembark on your own two feet, with some sort of dignity, or I will haul you out by your britches in disgrace.”

He blustered, “What business is this of yours? Why do you persist in humiliating me?”

Sa’aan was unmoved, “Well, Captain, it’s your tough luck to be present at a nexus of history, and you made it my business when you went to sea with murderous intent. Have you looked to see where most of your superstructure has gone? Your screws and rudders? The very hydrogen from within your fuel tanks? They are no longer on this Earth, nor even within this Universe. Consider the powers involved and then consider the prospect of every trace of the long history and the many national treasures of Japan taking a similar journey into entropic chaos. We can do that as easily as this. You will tell this story or there will be no story to tell, nor any nation left to tell it to.”

She watched as the captain exited the bridge in obvious distress, strode to the boarding ladder, and climbed down into the launch, which had approached the ladder again to receive him. When the launch had backed off, and was turning to leave the side of the ship again, she said, “Look sharp now, and please train a video camera toward your former vessel.”

She waited for a moment, until she saw that several of the crew had their BioLyncs set to record the scene, and one woman had a professional vid camera trained upon the disabled ship, so she chose that moment to ‘tip’ the entire vessel into those other dimensions, where its atoms instantaneously dispersed into pure energy, freed from subatomic bonds and gravity alike, softly and silently vanished away from human ken.

As an afterthought, she spared a little power to retain the shape of the absent vessel like a ghost in the surging seas, allowing salty water to slowly enter from below and over the sides of the hole in the ocean until the shape itself had disappeared. She did this purely for the theatrical effect in the many vidcasts that would result from this action, although it belatedly struck her that the disturbance caused by allowing the sea to immediately rush into the void left behind might well have swamped one or more of the small craft carrying the former crew and officers of the factory ship. She gave a mental shrug. ‘Lucky them. Tough luck otherwise.’

She then addressed the captain again, “Please tell your masters that all Snarks are Boojums now. They’ll either understand the reference or can look it up. They’ll receive no further warnings.”

She then disconnected from the BioLync channel without another word, and relayed the essence of this message to the Japanese Embassies in the RSA and Canada, just in case he forgot any of it.

Immediately thereafter, she opened a pathway directly to the captain’s brain, through which she spoke in perfect Japanese, lifted directly from his own memories and ingrained linguistic patterns, in the dialect and accent of Tokushima Prefecture on the island of Shikoku, his childhood home, “Captain, it should be obvious to you by now that you’ve been murdering sentient beings, and that the world cries out against you. I am one of those who now listens to the cries of the world.” She touched his brain then, to open his heart to the cetacean overmind, and to the faint echo of her own experience, as much as he could safely grasp.

He shuddered, then wept, saying, “Who are you? What have you done to me?”

“You know that already, you’ve always known, because it’s an integral part of the long history and deep culture of Japan. You must not kill sentient beings. Neither should you cause, encourage, nor approve of others’ killing. You must refrain from oppressing all living beings in this world, whether strong or weak, sentient or not, but instead act always with compassion and mercy. You’ve been offered both in generous measure, far more than you deserve.”

She saw his brain supply his own cultural context, the vision of of a woman standing on the back of a dragon rushing toward him through the sea, a willow branch in her right hand as she offered sweet water to him from a vase in her left.

Understanding, she spoke again, this time more kindly, “Captain, I, suggest that you immediately visit the thirty-three holy shrines of Kannon Bosatsu

The Japanese name of Guanyin, the Bodhisattva (or Goddess) of infinite compassion, who is intimately connected to the sea, often depicted being carried along across the surface of the ocean by a powerful sea dragon, quite possibly a trope for an archetypal whale, embodied psychically as a spiritual symbol of power. Kannon is the active emanation of the contemplative Amida Buddha, and so corresponds to Adi Shakti in Vedic terms.

on your return to your home, as this may help you during your future trials.”

He replied, weeping, “Are you she? Your name….”

“No, I am not, but she was and is as real as I am, as you can now plainly see. There are many, like me, who now hearken to the cries of the world

An essential attribute of Guanyin, who is sensitive to the suffering of every sentient being.

, and a new day of enlightenment is dawning soon. You have seen the first light of a new sunrise and are uniquely qualified to communicate this information to those without your experience. Strive to be worthy of this new honor after a lifetime of dishonorable acts. The claim that one was ‘only following orders’ will never be an excuse again.”

With that, she left him, and the rest of the ship’s bewildered complement of former pirates, floating in the midst of grey emptiness, the leaden sky a perfect dome that curved to meet an invisible horizon across a wide expanse of blue-grey ocean, all of them utterly dependent upon the tender mercies of the wide and dispassionate sea.

Sa’aan responded with a less masculine view, “There’s never been any real superpower other than the Earth itself. A thousand empires have overreached themselves and destroyed the environment they needed to survive, from the ancient civilizations of Turkestan, fifty thousand years ago, whose overgrazing of arid but productive pastures led to the desertification of entire regions and poverty for their descendants; to Rapa Nui, whose people’s insane destruction of their forests spelled the end of their great civilization — although their thoughtless introduction of the kiore, the Polynesian culinary rat, which ate the seeds the forest replenished itself from, played a major rôle as well — through slow starvation and intertribal war; to the military adventurism in search of resources and the excessive consumption which finally bankrupted the old USA; and to the reckless population growth and burning of both recent and ancient sunlight which was leading to œcological suicide by all the human inhabitants of the world, until the whales stopped it, even in their pain and disarray. We have yet to determine whether this belated intervention comes too little and too late.”

“But there is hope still?” Edith pleaded.

“Yes,” she answered, “I believe there is. I believe that the oceans can recover their natural resilience, now that the destruction of its treasures is stopping, and the oceans are the key to everything.”

Nakia asked, “But are we sure it will stop?”

“We are,” Sa’aan replied. “With your own help, and that of many other governments, we’ve made a wonderful start, and we now have the ability to reliably detect attempts to cheat and to ensure that everyone coöperates for the good of all.”

Edith worried, “So this is the new world order?”

Sa’aan reassured her, “Not at all; rather, the realization of the anarchic dream. Natural power has been both diluted and amplified, to the extent that it can readily resist every external imposition of unjust oppression or domination without effect. To sustain this new order, we will neither need nor want the help of armies or navies, but that of the yeoman police forces of the world, armed primarily by the power of law and the courts when reason and compromise fail, not nuclear submarines and missiles of any sort, raining indiscriminate death from the sky upon innocent bystanders, women, and babes in arms. In fact, I expect that this new scheme of things will result inevitably in the withering away of military garrisons and expeditionary forces entirely, when their true costs are fully internalized without any hope of offsetting the expense with increased access to the resources of others, and as the realization that they are ultimately powerless when confronted by the collective consensus of the global community slowly dawns on those who live without that fellowship. There will, I think, be a corresponding growth of more or less local — and possibly autonomous — small communities and constabularies throughout the world, and especially on or around its oceans.”

“So you don’t mean to replace the many world military regimes with another, more powerful empire?” Edith asked.

“No. Standing armies are the symptoms of schizophrenic paranoia and cowardice, a delusion of safety purchased by arming the very groups who, time after time, in nation after nation, have used their might to subvert and subjugate the people they supposedly protect. My ultimate aim is to preserve the earth, and the diverse and wonderful life it shelters, not to set up a new regime of Chimeric and cetacean masters, with armed thugs and goon squads to enforce their unjust edicts. To ensure that we all remain free, I gave power to everyone with the ability to handle it, not just a favored few meant to form a new Prætorian Guard

The most powerful unit of the ancient Roman armies, originally created as the personal bodyguard of generals and finally Emperors, whose power eventually eclipsed that of the Emperor himself, so that later Emperors served at their pleasure, and the former servants became the masters.

. Ask Nakia. She knows.”

Nakia nodded her agreement with Sa’aan’s assertion, and then asked, “That goes back to your militia argument, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, it does,” she said, “but it’s also the way whales operate. They’re fundamentally autonomous, despite being part of a larger whole, and arrange their own lives as they see fit. Ishmael is the same; he chooses to do what he considers appropriate or necessary and does it, with neither coercion nor reward in mind. This is how free people behave. It’s how I behave.”

Nakia nodded in agreement, “And when you think of it, it’s evidently why we’re here today. The whales had the oceans to themselves for millions of years, but at some point decided to create companions to share the Earth with. And now they’ve done even more, making the universe accessible to us, out of pure good will. It makes me ashamed of the rotten way we’ve paid them back for all the gifts they’ve given us so freely.”

“Yes, well, no longer,” Sa’aan said simply. “I’m taking steps to pull the teeth of the Japanese whaling fleet forever, since they’ve chosen not to follow the good examples set by Canada, the RSA, and most of the rest of the world.”

Edith rolled her eyes and said, sighing, “Is this something I want to know about?”

“You might,” Sa’aan responded, laughing. “I’m in the process of declaring to the Japanese, through diplomatic channels and otherwise, that their whaling vessels in particular are no longer welcome on our oceans — or indeed on Earth — and that other industrial exploitation of the seas is henceforward forbidden to them, although artisan fisheries using small craft are permitted within a reasonable distance from their own shores, as long as they don’t deplete their local resources or pollute their local waters.”

Edith started to say something, but then thought better of it and said instead, sighing, “Well, I can’t say as how I blame you, and it certainly seems as though they’ve been asking for it. Both our governments made our recent discoveries very plain to the world, so it’s hard to see how anyone with an ounce of sense could just carry on as before.”

Sa’aan said simply, “It has the advantage of being simple and direct. Japanese Chimeræ even now are witnesses to my actions, and know exactly why their government is being punished. I’m informed by one, now with enhanced access to the mind of a top fisheries official, that these authorities have known for almost a hundred years that whale/human Chimeræ were being found and murdered, but had covered it up because of the potential embarrassment. There are many Japanese Chimeræ who now have the same access to the cetacean overmind, and to enhanced powers, just as many others do, all around the world. I believe that they will make their influence known directly and that the current government of Japan will probably fall as a direct result of this unfolding scandal, leaving the Empress to form a new government.”

Ishmael added, “And I myself am witness to the fact that she is acting with extraordinary compassion for the crews, despite the fact that they have tons of butchered whales on board their factory ships. If it had been me, I probably would have sent them all to the bottom of the sea, because culling the school of its weakest members is part of good husbandry.”

“I will leave the bodies of the innocent victims behind, so they can rejoin the web of life, my very dear, moi rodnoi

My kinsman.

,” Sa’aan said soothingly. “And the whales now know what to do to protect themselves, so I think any future problems will be handled directly, and probably with sufficient ruthlessness to satisfy my noble lover.” She gazed at him with fond regard, relishing his beauty, size, and strength as well as his very clever brain. She decided that had got it wrong; a little ruthlessness in a male was somewhat titillating, but stupidity would be a turnoff.

Nakia broke in, “I’ve just been talking to the government back in the RSA, and am informed that many nations with industrial fishing fleets have ordered them to cease operations immediately, and to retrieve longlines and drift nets as rapidly as possible. Whatever you’re doing, Sa’aan, it’s making quite an impression.”

She smiled and said, “It will be on all the newsvids, once I do the big blowoff, and my conversation with the captain of the vessel I’ve chosen as an object lesson is being relayed live to all major news outlets, so I imagine many people are very worried now, lest they be next. I’d guess that at least one of the crew is selling live action via BioLync as well, but I’ll make sure that the world has a very good look. It’s all very sporting to go out shooting game, but the sport tends to cloy when the game shoots back.”

“But what are you going to do?” Edith asked.

Sa’aan laughed, “That would spoil the surprise, wouldn’t it? You’ll see, and very quickly. I’ve healed not only the whales, but the world I think, although there will always be room for improvement.”

Edith asked, “But what exactly did you do to cure the whales?”

“It’s really quite simple,” Sa’aan said. “I triggered their ability to connect the pieces of their multiprocessor overmind using mental links, as we are doing now. This replaces but is compatible with the sonic method they used previously.”

Leana said excitedly, “So it was as if they’d gone deaf, and then you gave them a mental hearing aid; the ability to communicate was still there but they couldn’t link up?”

“Yes. The ‘quasi-neural’ pathways between the scattered cores of their massively parallel overbrain were tied directly to their ability to communicate long distances through sound. So when the sea became noisy with steamships and then diesel-powered cargo haulers, they literally couldn’t hear themselves think at times, and their nearly simultaneous population crash due to greedy whaling and gross depletion of the ocean biosphere had the side effect of making the distances between individual whales longer, on average, which meant that their sonic interactions were still further degraded while their processing power diminished.”

She added, “The net effect was similar to drug-induced coma, punctuated by periodic half-waking fits of more or less lucid dreaming interspersed with terrifying nightmare, during which they extended their dimly-remembered global agenda as best they could. Since the silence has extended beyond the lifetimes of the individual whales who formed the original neural network, much of their collective memory was lost, other than the simple oral histories passed down from adult whales to their descendants. Right now, they’re trying to figure exactly out what happened while they were asleep, and to recover from their collective paralysis.”

“Don’t they have the same sorts of history stories your great grandmother and the rest of the orcas seem to have memorized?”

“I don’t think so,” she said, “or not in nearly so much detail. The large cetaceans never needed the same type of local processing power the orcas did, and I don’t think the orcas and other dolphins had the same natural capacity to share an overmind — although I do think they have some of the same mental connections, but mediated through other physical means — that the whales perfected. The ordinary brains of the whales don’t seem all that sharp, which makes sense if their higher consciousness and intellectual activities were all carried on over their heads, so to speak.”

Nakia was obviously puzzzled, “But I don’t get it. Why didn’t the whales do something to save themselves when they started losing consciousness, or whatever self-awareness what you call this ‘overmind’ possesses?”

Leana burst in, “Exactly! Why didn’t they act to prevent their own destruction early on? Large-scale human whaling started in the Sixteenth Century or so. Why didn’t they act to stop it then?”

“Well, in the first place, they did. According to my great grandmother, if you’ll recall our conversation of a few days ago, the process had actually started in twelve seventy-two of the common era, which happens to be the year King Henry the Third of England died, although I doubt that the whales noticed, so whatever motivated them was not the introduction of massive whaling efforts by the Portuguese and others in the Sixteenth Century. I personally suspect that we’ll never know exactly, although the invention of the game of cricket in England may well have been the handwriting on the wall.”

Leana chuffed, “Yes, we all get that you’ve never liked cricket, but enough with the witticisms that only you can figure out already.”

Ishmael intervened, “Hang on there, Leana. I thought it was quite clever and droll. It’s not her fault that you don’t understand her subtle jokes.”

Leana chuffed again, “Aiya, Mei-mei! Now there’s two of you! This is obviously a match made in heaven.”

Sa’aan, whose heart was spilling over with a soupy mix of œstrogen, progesterone, and oxytocin, was uncharacteristically filled with placidity and benevolence, and so replied graciously, “Thank you, Jie-jie. I think so too. I’ve decided that he’s my bashert

A soulmate.

, and I am his dear kinswoman, quite literally, since we are distant cousins.”

Ishmael gazed fondly toward her and said simply, “Moya rodnaya, lyubimaya

My beloved kinswoman. Russian.

!”

Sa’aan gazed back and replied sweetly, “Moi rodnoi, lyubimiy

My beloved kinsman. Russian.

.”

Even Edith rolled her eyes.

Leana asked very politely, for her, although she was obviously having difficulty maintaining that level of dispassion, “Could you two lovebirds please tear your eyes off each other long enough so Sa’aan can tell us what happened?”

“Of course,” Ishmael answered instead, imperturbed by anything that had transpired. “I was there, as were you, Nakia, and you, Leana, but perhaps my memory is slightly more reliable, since I’m familiar with the structure of cetacean brains, where they must be completely foreign territory to you.”

He continued, “Before my dearest Sa’ushka came along, the thought processes of the whales were very slow, or at least those of their overmind, as Sa’aan so insightfully puts it. Since their pseudo-neural connections all proceeded over long distances at the speed of sound in water, they might take days to frame a single thought. A gradual loss of consciousness might not have been noticed for decades, even centuries. In addition, changing the planetary genome and epigenome as they did is a massive process by its very nature. But when that process is assigned to a very slow mentality, it’s perfectly understandable that it might take a while. Add to that the fact that they began to suffer a progressive loss of mental capacity in mid-project — indeed had lapsed near the end into a fitful and troubled near-coma for long periods — and it’s understandable that the process might go slightly awry.”

Sa’aan took over from there, saying, “And in fact their efforts didn’t begin to bear fruit until they were already in terrible trouble. I believe that the deployment of full chimerism so abruptly may have been an accident, caused by the whales’ uncertain control over their project toward the end, and also by their semi-conscious efforts to recover, using whatever portions of the overmind might stir from time to time. On the other hand, they might just as easily have decided to kill a bunch of humans at once, to give themselves and the Earth a little breathing room. That’s another thing we’ll probably never know for certain, but I actually experienced — for a very brief time — the sort of nightmarish paralysis the overmind had been trapped in for centuries before I intervened, and I think we’re lucky we got off as lightly as we did, no matter what they did or did not do.”

Edith hadn’t been fully involved, since she was not a healer, and was more confused by her mental perceptions of what had just transpired, and still coming to grips with the profound changes in her brain, “What do you mean? Was that this mysterious prophecy, or whatever it was, you mentioned?”

Sa’aan answered patiently, “Yes. At some point — I don’t know exactly how or why, other than to guess that it was in response to some perceived danger — they began a process of genetic manipulation that culminated in Chimerism, quite probably with a view toward curing themselves of their mental slowness by means of someone uniquely qualified to perform this sort of psychic brain surgery.”

Sa’aan continued, “Since psychic surgeons didn’t exist in the time of Henry the Third, the whales very cleverly set out to build one. I’m guessing that several forms of psychic ability had emerged from the overmind spontaneously millions of years ago, including the ability to manipulate genes on a global scale, but this was inadequate to the task of operating on themselves. Their own separate brains, outside their mental congress, weren’t capable of operating on the brains that created their merged consciousness, which left a conundrum of sorts: ‘Physician, heal thyself.’”

No one spoke into the silence which followed her words.

She continued, “Since we have records of humans talking to whales — or vice versa — from many continents and cultures, I suspect the whales surmised that humans were at least incipiently psychic, and so could furnish part of the skillset required after careful breeding and selection. Humans have always been ambivalent about whales — in the Bible, they’re called ‘Tanannim,’ monsters, but then in Lamentations they’re extolled as compassionate mothers to their children, the same word, ‘monsters’ referring both to the devouring ‘sea serpent’ and the mother who ‘brings forth the breast to suckle her children.’ — perhaps a foreshadowing of the rôle they eventually played in the winnowing of humanity, which may have contributed to human hostility towards them in psychic space, and a memory of their contributions to human culture, although these were often transferred to human actors, or stand-ins for the same in the form of humanoid Gods or demigods like Prometheus.” She paused for the briefest instant, thinking long and hard about the deep ramifications of what she’d just set into motion in the remote Antarctic ocean. Another new religion, she supposed, and wasn’t particularly sorry about it. Not everyone was capable — in this generation at least — of experiencing the totality of the whale’s gift, and the solace of an inherently compassionate religion was a good thing, all in all.

“In any case,” she continued, “humans would not, and could not, understand whale brains in sufficient detail to perform the surgery itself, since they were single-threaded, at least in conscious thought, so the whales cast about for a cetacean, unable to join their overmind on their own, but with sufficient mental capacity to understand what was going on, and made the fateful decision to incorporate human genetic material into their proposed rescuers, presumably for the nascent psychic abilities evidenced by at least some humans, and improvised from there on out as best they could during moments of lucidity interspersed with fitful consciousness and dreaming incoherence.”

After a short pause, Ishmael took over from there, “Naturally, they settled on the orcas, inherently brilliant, very familiar with the structure of whale-like brains since, sleepless, we are well able to observe our own, and almost ideal for the purpose. We also possessed a vocal and sensory method of coördinating our actions with each other that shared some small details with the larger cetacean scheme, but were, alas, sadly lacking in psychic ability.”

Then Sa’aan spoke, “So the obvious course was for the whales to somehow jam our two species together, which possibly turned out to be rather more difficult than they had counted on, since cetaceans are all descended from carnivorous ungulates, looking something like warm-blooded crocodiles with hooves at first, and far away from us on the mammalian family tree, so it took much longer than they’d expected. Alas, indeed.”

Ishmael took up the narration again, “So when the crunch came, the whales were caught with their pants down, as it were, and things started to go to hell in a handbasket, which sorry state of affairs they probably used as best they could to dynamically recover from the mess they’d gotten into, possibly on the theory that it never hurts to reshuffle the deck when the current situation is leading to inevitable destruction.”

Sa’aan took her turn, “How they intuited whatever original danger they’d reacted to in the latter part of the High Middle Ages, or decided what steps to take when things started going badly, I don’t know, but it’s the sort of autistic savant thing I might have done — an intuitive leap from scanty evidence to comprehension of a deeper pattern — and they bred both Ishmael and me to suit their needs, so they probably had the same spooky intuitive ability we both do — or at least their overmind did. I know that we were both able to quickly see what had been done already, and what needed to be done to finish the job once Ishmael’s abilities had been tweaked just a little, because it seemed familiar to both of us. The whales may actually have ensured that the skills required were designed into our reticular formations, needing only conscious control and the stereotyped situation to make full use of them. They obviously had far more control over the process in the beginning, at least to hear my great grandmother tell it, but their own stories haven’t captured that much detail yet.”

Still visibly confused, Edith said, “But I still don’t understand why the whales didn’t notice that they were losing their mental coördination.”

Sa’aan answered, “I don’t think the whales noticed, at first. Do you notice when a single cell dies within your own body? Start worrying? Not likely. It’s only when you notice your weight dropping, or see some other observable symptom, that you run off to the doctor. And progressive brain disease is insidious, somewhat like alcohol or drug intoxication, in that the victim often feels fine, despite the fact that an outside observer might already have noticed slurred speech or lack of affect. I already know that individual orcas aren’t terribly worried about death, since they don’t see themselves as separate from the world, or especially privileged in relation to other beings, so I suppose individual whales must have much the same attitude, and probably wouldn’t worry in any case because their shared higher consciousness was what Houseman called an ‘immortal part’ that carried on long after any individual lived and died.” She paused and then continued, “I’m sure you felt the same sense of peace and connection to the Universe that I felt as I connected with them, even as dimly relayed through me.”

Edith admitted, “I did. But I couldn’t put it into any context. It felt strangely like religious awe, or like falling in love, but not like either.”

Sa’aan answered quickly, “Human languages don’t have an exact match,” Sa’aan observed, “since we’ve pretty much lived within the confines of our own skulls, at least until Chimeric Syndrome came along, and even that leaves many on the sidelines. But we’ve always suspected that there was something larger than ourselves, and that pearl of knowledge comes down to us through many traditions, all around the world. In Buddhism, it’s called the Buddha-consciousness, in Kabbalistic tradition the soul’s encounter with Ein Sof, the Infinite or Boundless, and is approximated by meditation and spiritual discipline. In many indigenous cultures of the Americas, the same escape from solitariness and connection with ultimate reality was sought in a vision quest, where another form of spiritual discipline achieved a roughly similar result. I don’t know all that much about comparative world religions, but strongly suspect that similar mystic traditions form a part of most of them, whether these states are seen as accessible to ordinary folk or not.”

Edith ventured, “From what little I know, the Haida and Tlingit First Nations, both seafaring peoples, saw whales, especially orcas, as supernatural beings who could grant great power and gifts, and tell stories going back at least five hundred years or more of close encounters between whales and humans, through which the human participants were ennobled in some way. Many of the chiefly lineages have a stated traditional kinship with orcas, but their actual names were based on an avian counterpart, either Ravens or Eagles, which formed complementary moieties. Some say that these beings are actually psychic mirrors of each other, the same, or at least congruent, supernatural entity, with the raven and eagle avatars at home in the sky, and their orca counterparts at home in the sea, with humans sprawled across the land between them. One supposes that the orcas were seen as having a congruent moiety system, since the orca counterparts to ravens and eagles were depicted with different markings, It’s all very complicated though, and I doubt that anyone outside these First Nations actually knows how it all worked before the British and Russian traders and settlers arrived on the scene.”

Ishmael contradicted her, “Actually, the two orca moieties depicted in the Haida and Tlingit carvings represent what you would call the resident pods and the transients, although the pelagic orcas were sometimes merged by them into the residents. The original human inhabitants of this land had an intimate knowledge of the seas and waters which gave them life and wealth, and had observed that the transients, like ravens, were far more likely to trick their prey into a compromising situation — usually with fatal results — and are ever ready to shed mammalian and avian blood.”

He continued, “The residents, and the pelagic orcas, herd fish to the exclusion of other prey, and use a very direct approach to gather them into groups for culling. We tolerate the transients in our waters if their activities don’t interfere with our own, but their continued lifestyle is ultimately dependent on our good will. We thus seemed to the local aboriginal observers more like the eagles, whose diet leans toward fish, though not as strongly, and who are at the top of their particular venue, as are we. The transients are in fact a distinct race and breeding population with no particular responsibility toward the land beyond the shoreline. One never looks to them for mates — or even companionship.” He uttered a disdainful snort, “If one looks carefully at their dorsal fins and markings — or observes their behavior for any length of time — the many differences between us are quite obvious.”

Sa’aan added, “Thank you, Ishmael, it’s just been made clear to me exactly why my great grandmother is the boss of these parts. Just as it seems that the Haida and Tlingit First Nations probably had an experiential basis for their distinctions between orca ‘moieties,’ it may be that their stories about both orcas and whales are quite real, and that gifted shamans among them had tapped into the intact whale overmind or global consciousness at some point in the past millennium, but I doubt that it’s been at all recent. From what I understand, these stories must have originated long ago, as twice told tales many times removed. It’s my guess that many cultures share roughly the same cultural experience, but the passage of time has distorted the raw data into many forms and legends.”

Nakia said, in almost the same tone of dry certainty that she loved about her father’s lectures, “Among the ancient Babylonians and Sumerians, in the birthplace of civilization as we know it today, and the long home of the Arabs and their kin, human culture is supposed to have come from the sea, mediated by Tiamat, the mother of all living, and Apsu, the far waters. Legends associated with large bodies of water abound in most religions, from Noah, who also carried human civilization out of the sea, to Atlantis, supposedly lost beneath the waves — but not before despatching emissaries to the far corners of the world carrying the seeds of every human civilization — to Jesus walking across the water to recruit his disciples, to Guan Yin riding through the waves on the back of a sea dragon, to Fu Hsi, an immortal being with a fish’s tail who was the first of the Three Sovereigns and who invented writing, the Eight Trigrams, and created the I Ching.”

Sa’aan thought about that for a while, “I think perhaps we humans may dimly remember actual communion with the whales as they existed in the dawning of our world, and certainly many people have commented on the feeling of serenity and calm which descends upon them when they come into close proximity to whales. From what I experienced directly, an encounter like that, especially when a spiritual adept is involved, would leave a lifelong impression. I now suspect, for example, that Jonah’s supposed journey in the belly of a whale might be a distorted oral history of an actual encounter by a genuine psychic-turned-prophet, with elaborative fictions and window-dressing added on, after the fact, for political or other reasons.”

Ishmael added, “As far as I know, the whales were involved in the evolution of humanity as well, or so our stories go, so these stories of yours may have more of truth in them than you think.”

“Well, not personally, but I know the stories. You probably know something of them as well, since most rational humans seem to know that you ultimately came from Africa, in the

He answered, “Yes. They were evidently working on both species, moving them towards greater involvement with the world, since they, as well as humans, had powers of physical manipulation that the whales imagined would be handy to their greater purpose. Indeed, elephants began to be useful millions of years before the proto-humans came along.”

Sa’aan added her own comment here, “Well, I expect they’ll find the elephants and bears more useful now, as I healed them as well, together with the orcas, many of the other dolphins, and all other living beings with the emergent spark of consciousness and reason.”

Nakia stared at her in amazement, “How… How is that possible? — Never mind, I remember now…, dimly,” she said wonderingly.

Sa’aan answered anyway, “You’ll find that, if you quietly let your individuality fall away in meditation, that the higher reality is still accessible to you. The elephants had already developed the beginnings of a larger consciousness through long-distance vocal communications through subsonics, somewhat similar to that of the whales but not as evolved. They’re going to be full participants in the mind of Gaia now, and there will undoubtedly be several nasty surprises awaiting human poachers in the ivory and traditional pharmaceutical trades before the word gets out. The bears were much less organized but are still evolving, and there are, as I’d surmised, quite a few bear/human Chimeræ with greater abilities. I enabled all their psychic powers, as I did that of the whales, to speed that process, although very few of the others can access the overmind just yet. When we start sorting all this out, we’ll find that the world of discourse has been greatly enlarged and a large number of overlapping claims on Earth’s bounty will have to be accommodated.”

Sa’aan replied, modestly enough, “Well, yes. The Earth isn’t the tidy place it was the day before yesterday, with humanity the crown of creation and Homo sapiens owning everything there is. We’re going to have to start taking our responsibilities as caretakers much more seriously. Somewhere along the line, we humans have managed mostly to forget that there was a covenant made, not just with us, but with every living creature: all the birds, and the various animals that were with us in the beginning. The other shareholders are finally in a position to demand an audit, and I expect we’ll be held to account. A lot of the world’s wealth is going to be redistributed.”

Edith unexpectedly began to laugh, delightedly, “So the lion is really going to lie down with the lamb, eh? I’ll be damned.”

Sa’aan was also pleased, but for a slightly different reason, “Not completely. Eventually, you’ll all be blessed with greater powers and a higher consciousness, as the enormous changes we wrought today work themselves through the planetary genome, epigenome, and global mind. But lions will still be eating lambs, and antelopes. The difference will be that lambs and antelopes and other creatures will have their rights as well, and some may be able to fight back. The world still needs healing, as my father said, but now the world is in a position to insist on proper concern and care rather than passively waiting for a few ‘enlightened’ humans to get around to it.”

“Not at all,” Sa’aan replied, “but progress is being made, even as we speak. We’re six hundred million humans now, with the fuzzy line separating us from the rest of creation blurring by the minute. Many people across the world are just now experiencing a crisis of faith, as the scales fall away from their eyes and they see the true face of the world at last. I expect the world will settle down into a more sustainable equilibrium, and most religions are going to change, probably for the better, if they survive at all. The long work of the whales is finally coming to fruition, a work they were so dedicated to that they maintained it even in a nightmarish state of impaired consciousness, groping toward a goal they were no longer able to fully comprehend. Generations now in the womb will realize that purpose more fully, and move the Earth and its creatures all along into a future that will leave every species behind eventually. But we are back on track toward justice, that justice which we must all pursue. Tzedek tzedek tirdof — צדק צדק תרדף׃”

She continued, “A lot of players are finally stepping up to the table and demanding their share of the stakes wagered in their absence. The year of Jubilee is finally at hand, when every living being is restored to their birthright and the wealth of the world is equitably shared out. My father will be very pleased. Many will be less so.”

Sa’aan answered with some pride, not least because her father had been proved right in concept, and perhaps in detail as well, “Because he believes that the Tanach is greater than the sum of its parts, all in all, despite the many dreadful accretions around it and the sometimes uninspired editing and editorializing within it. He says — at great length if you give him half a chance — that textual and psychological criticism has failed to unravel an imponderable core of justice and compassion for all life that doesn’t seem likely to have been of purely human origin, since selfishness is lodged within our very nature. There are similar strands within some Vedantic traditions — later amplified in the Jain and Buddha Dharmas. Throughout the meditative philosophies of the ancient world, the same insights have appeared again and again, including Greek Stoicism, portions of ancient Egyptian religious thought, in certain wisdom teachings amongst the native peoples of the Americas and Australia, and in the legends of the South Seas, all of which point to a common recognition that a sort of Dharma, doing one’s duty toward the larger community, living in harmony with nature, reverence for life, and practicing kindness and compassion is a universal virtue.”

“This may seem like ‘common sense’ today,” Sa’aan said, “but these ideas were not at all common when they were first formulated. In fact, they seem often to have been derided as impractical sentimentality, or as subversive assaults on the divine right of kings, and their propounders and adherents persecuted, tortured, or even murdered. Sometimes all three.”

Edith was still puzzled and somewhat angry both, “Are you saying that human beings couldn’t have originated these ideas on their own? Or that they couldn’t have been divinely inspired?”

“I can’t really comment on the latter,” Sa’aan said carefully, “although it now appears that any putative divine origin of any particular human religion was mediated second hand and non-exclusively through an elder species, but as to the first, no, not anciently at least. From what we can judge of the psychological mindsets of ancient tribal cultures, it would have been very difficult for them to invent such ideas independent of ‘inspiration,’ for lack of a better word, and we now have credible evidence that this ‘inspiration,’ was of non-human but Earthly origin. It’s that fact that will make a lot of people either very angry or very upset.”

Sa’aan said wearily, “Because a lot of people have a lot invested in generalized idolatry around their holy books and traditions, considering them not as the work of more-or-less inspired human beings, but as divine writ handed down from the Heavens, or whatever.”

Ishmael spoke up, “Well, of course they’re all Dharma religions to begin with, and they almost all came from the whales, either directly or indirectly. Most of them originated in or around Kalam, what you now call Mesopotamia, around seven thousand years ago, which is where the human idea of Dharma had its first origins, although it was independently fostered milennia later in ancient China and still later in the Americas as well. Your father is a Jew, I take it, beloved Sa’aan?”

“Yes,” she answered, “and I suppose our whole family is, although he’s the only one who’s really at all serious about it.”

He continued knowingly, “Then you’ll recognize that Judaism is an almost pure Dharma religion, distantly related to the Egyptian cult of Ma’at, or the Greek Themis, who were both associated with justice, morality, and the natural order of things. Genesis, for example, spends quite a lot of time accounting for the natural order of the world, and the proper relationships between living beings, and Job has tidbits which are almost indistinguishable from Hinduism or Buddhism. Christianity, Islam, and other religions of the regions around ancient Kalam sprang from Judaism, with some influence from other religions and cultural norms, as compromises between pure Dharma and a type of Epicureanism, a variation on hedonism in which a desire for personal pleasure and/or salvation supplants the general weal. Some sects of Christianity and Islam have gone far down the hedonistic ‘mystery’ path of self-centered salvation, but their origins were as refinements of Judaism, at first calling particular attention to the particular necessity of actually living out one’s duty to one’s fellow creatures rather than merely paying lip service to the idea, but then devolving back into magical thinking and wishes upon stars and dandilions. Some sects within Judaism have traveled down the same hedonistic road, for it’s always a temptation to that monkey brain of yours, but the whales were behind them all to begin with.”

Ishmael was unperturbed, “I can and do. We, or our mother’s mother’s mothers, were there, observing, and saw the path of Dharma begin in Kalam, partially supplanting rigidly hierarchical religions — glorified ancestor worship for the most part — where the subjects did what rulers told them to do — no more and no less — and started to replace that master / slave relationship with the radical idea of individual responsibility and the discernment of right and wrong. Eating from the Tree of Knowledge, you’ll recall, is what got Adam and Eve tossed out of the Garden of Eden — traditionally located in or near Kalam — and the Deity depicted there is an idealized slavedriver who punishes his ‘uppity’ servants for getting ‘above themselves.’ Could the metaphor be more obvious? Especially when you consider that the supposed villain in the piece, the serpent — a word often used in the Bible as synonymous with ‘whale,’ since whales have no limbs, just like snakes, yet are not fish — counsels self-awareness, independence, and freedom, which in any other context might be more properly regarded as the truly benevolent advice of a friend. The choice is between living under the despotic authority of a divine — or divinely-ordained — Despot on the one hand, or living autonomously, as part of a free but coöperative and compassionate community of fellow adventurers on the path of life. Dharma traveled from Kalam throughout the Middle East and Central Asia, then to India and Egypt, and eventually to the Mediterranean and parts of Europe, although similar origins, spawning roughly similar religious traditions, occurred around the world in major river valleys, anywhere rivers were deep enough to safely harbor whales for the time needed. One might call this the Pure Dharma, transmitted almost unchanged from the beginning, before the Vedas existed, before Judaism existed, before every historical religion came to be, and is still in conflict with hierarchical authority of all kinds, who have tenaciously done their best to coöpt and corrupt the original dharma — or Tao, to use the Chinese equivalent — to suit their own purposes.”

“Of course!” Leana crowed. “The Garden of Eden, Shangri-La, Tír na nÓg, Shambhala, even Campanella, all the Earthly Paradises are covert metaphors for prison and slavery, but religious and religiopolitical hierarchies continually hold them up as desirable places to live, and claim that being tossed out of them was or is a punishment almost impossible to bear, in a sort of Orwellian Doublethink. The proper place for any compassionate woman is out in the world, doing things that matter, not hieing off to fairyland or Heaven or Bardo where she might fastidiously contemplate the immense superiority of her personal enlightenment and/or salvation when compared to the poor

“Indeed,” Ishmael observed approvingly, “You have the fire in you to be an orca, but the forces of reaction are always anxious to contain any impulse toward freedom, since their livelihoods and positions usually depend on the contrary proposition.”

“But why would the whales care about that sort of thing?” Nakia queried. “And why would you notice?”

Sa’aan said, “I think I can answer that. Because that’s how orcas think, and I now know that the whales think that way as well. I noticed right away the orca attitude of non-attachment and compassion, and later came to realize that their concept of duty — what my father might call observance of the mitzvot — wasn’t very different from the way I’d been brought up.”

Ishmael added in affirmation, “We pay attention to the world community; we act to correct imbalance. That’s our way, just as the bears — on a more primitive level — fertilize and protect the forests which shelter and support them. I understand that elephants did likewise with the African and Asian savannahs before the advent of humanity within those very plains. Early humans supplemented the inclinations of the elephants until the early Bronze Ages and the advent of large-scale agriculture and empires, when they began to work against œcological diversity for the first time.”

Sa’aan responded, “A type of involvement with the universe that my father might call, tikkun olam, תיקון עולם, healing the natural order of the world. According to Jewish mystical thought, the world is shattered and imperfect, and must be restored to order through individual acts of compassion and duty by every living being. While not a perfect reflection of modern physical cosmology — which is valueless in the mathematical sense — it does correspond in certain respects to the quantum uncertainty which governed the universe until life arose and collapsed the universal quantum wave function into what we now see all around us. Just as we evolved from a primordial soup of chemicals and then bacteria, the universe evolved from a soup of energy, minutely nudged by those random fluctuations of energy which yielded primitive consciousness toward ever-greater hospitality toward the conscious life which created and maintains it. We now know, to our shame, that the Earth itself is an œcological whole — profoundly altered by the presence and balance of life — which we foolishly altered almost beyond recovery. Is it too great a leap to see that the universe itself has a living œcology, and that life affects it even more subtly and mysteriously than it does here on Earth?”

“You’re talking about Schrödinger’s Cat, right?” Nakia asked hesitantly.

Sa’aan answered, “Yes, except that Schrödinger’s thought experiment has actually been performed on a macroscopic level using isolated superconducting magnets and quantum state tunneling. The superposition of divergent quantum states was demonstrated irrefutably hundreds of years ago, although few seem to have noticed. Since then, other experiments have been devised, including several using immense gravitational lenses located billions of light years away from Earth. All have shown that observation collapses the quantum state tensor and does so even at fantastic distances and time delays from the interaction being observed.”

Edith protested, “But isn’t that just elaborate anthropomorphism? Why should the entire Universe wait around in a state of quantum uncertainty waiting for mere Earthlings to appear on the scene?”

Sa’aan replied, “In the first place, who says it waited on us? You’re forgetting to include the whales, who obviously achieved full consciousness long before we did. Beyond that, we see that the Universe appears to have had a long history before the Earth itself existed, so the logical inference is that some form of conscious life emerged long ago.”

Ishmael expanded on her thought, “The Earth had primitive life on it for billions of years before the layout of the continents drifted into a configuration that disturbed the bacterial equilibrium enough to allow for the Cambrian Explosion. What we now see as the Big Bang may actually have been the first emergence of conscious life as a random fluctuation within primordial quantum uncertainty, and the Universe has had plenty of time to evolve since then. The early Universe doesn’t seem to have been particularly hospitable toward our own form of life — just as the Earth itself wasn’t habitable by our sorts of beings during the long eons of bacterial dominance — but that doesn’t mean that life didn’t exist, nor that Earth was the only place in which it might exist.”

“In fact, looking at it the other way around,” Sa’aan argued, “the present state of the Universe implies that life originated early and probably often, how often we don’t know, but the violence of those early times suggests that lifetimes would have been very short. You know this, Nakia, as do you Leana, because of your recent experience and the fact that you now have access to the whale overmind and can inspect what’s left of their collective memories, if you care to look again.”

“And many more living beings, all around the world. Soon enough, we all will,” added Ishmael helpfully. “Our sweet Sa’aan has given us all a great boon, planned for by the great whales, but which they were unable to deliver due to their own limitations. With access to the now global overmind, we have, collectively, the power to shape our joint destiny.”

There was a sudden moment in which the air itself seemed heavier before a vast presence made itself known in all their brains,

“For which, we thank you all, although your efforts have helped your separate selves as much as our unity. We now believe that we will be able to safely restore the equilibrium of our atmosphere and oceans, since we can use Sa’aan’s trick of eternal sequestration in other dimensions to remove considerable amounts of carbon dioxide and other pollutants from the atmosphere and waters. It would be a shame to see our world die before we were able to pass on the gift.”

“The gift of intelligence,” Sa’aan whispered, almost overwhelmed by the presence of Sins Sagaana, now active in the waking world again.

“Yes, and how very perceptive of you. We knew that you were clever and brave, little one, and your dear friend as well. Thirty million years ago, more or less, we were visited and set upon our present path by another global mind from beyond our galaxy. Once we’d gained mastery over our new possibilities, we used them to help extend the reach of intelligent life on Earth. It’s time, and past time though, that we passed on what we were given so generously to other worlds.”

“But doesn’t intelligence arise on it’s own sometimes?” asked Leana, ever bold as brass.

“It can, but rarely, and so many terrible things can happen to tiny planets in the great and vasty deep that its young promise is snuffed out without issue more often than not. Witness what almost happened here.”

Edith complained bitterly, “So that’s it? We all just sit back and let you run things now?”

“Sit back? We think you’ll be far too busy. Other than catching up on a little housekeeping that piled up while we were… indisposed, we plan to spend much of our time shepherding the emergent intelligences on Titan and Jupiter we’ve just now been able to detect, so we may be somewhat preoccupied for the next few million years. Which means that you’ll have to take up the slack. Don’t worry, though — you seem to have lots of help on the way, so it shouldn’t be too taxing after the first few millennia. Be sure and lock up if you leave.”

Nakia and Edith looked at each other in dumbfounded amazement for a minute at least, and then began to chuckle, then laugh, and were at last hanging onto the rail and each other to keep themselves from falling over as their shoulders shook and they held their bellies in painful gasps for breath. Leana was caught up in the general hilarity as well, but didn’t have anyone nearby to hang onto and had fallen over, which would have greatly embarrassed her if anyone had seen.

At last, she was able to regain sufficient control to say, somewhat sourly, “Jing-tsai! There seem to be thousands of Mei-meis now. We should probably be glad that they appear to have other concerns, since I don’t think the world could withstand too much whale drollery.”

There was a long beat before Sa’aan responded primly, “Well, it’s nice to see that at least some of us appreciate the need for levity, even in situations of the gravest importance.”

Suddenly, Nakia started to laugh again, in wondering glee. Eventually, she managed to control herself well enough to share the source of her amusement, “I’ve just had word from Washington; it seems the whales have had a nice little jest at our expense, and that their ‘housekeeping’ seems to have extended to ‘tidying up’ all those messy nuclear weapons we’d left laying about gathering dust.”

“Jing-tsai!” Sa’aan exclaimed. “That saves me the trouble. I’d forgotten about them until you just now mentioned their absence.”

Edith added, smiling broadly, “It’s a burden we’re evidently all free from now. My own government has just informed me that the Chinese and the Russians are severally and indignantly denouncing an undescribed but ‘perfidious’ act of Western sabotage affecting their respective national sovereignties, but we’ve had private communications from Chimeræ in both nations telling us that their nuclear weapons have suddenly disappeared as well. Meaning no disrespect, Nakia, even a ‘Re-formed’ USA with atomic bombs sometimes made me nervous, much less modern China and Russia.”

Nakia reassured her, “No offense taken, dear Edith. They made me nervous as well. We’re well rid of them at last, as our own history warns us that we couldn’t be trusted with them for any length of time. But there was still a powerful segment of our non-hybridized population who resisted total nuclear disarmament, so it was more or less untouchable politically.”

Sa’aan said, “That sort of hateful anger toward the world will disappear soon enough, although it might flail for awhile in impotent rage. With the enlargement of our collective awareness, misunderstanding and fear of ‘strangers’ will eventually wither away, as will, I suspect, the rôle of nation states in world affairs.”

“Not just anarchists,” Sa’aan replied, “the Jewish, Christian, and Islamic dreams as well, the global enlightenment dreamed of by the Buddhists, the literal

Nakia and Edith just stared at Sa’aan, bewildered by the obscure reference, until Leana intervened.

“Exactly. When it comes down to it,” she added, “most major religions, including classical anarchism, share a common faith that there is a core of goodness in everyone, just waiting to emerge, and that a more humane and just world is possible, perhaps ‘in the twinkling of an eye,’ as the early rabbis had it at the beginning of our common era.”

Sa’aan agreed, “And as Shimon the Righteous is reported in the

“And of the orca way of life as well,” Ishmael confirmed,“which the whales seem to share. Curiosity is the essential key to intelligence, and is the foundation of knowledge. Without knowing, how are we to ascertain those thing we are obliged to do, or realize when we fall short? Without compassion, how are we to know when personal sacrifice is required for the good of all? Without the inclination toward kindness, why would we be motivated to go out of our way, or risk ourselves for another? One of the seafarers I regularly spied upon was something of an intellectual, and carried with him a well-worn copy of a Russian translation of the Meditations of

“I thought I recognized your quote about dignity and proportion, moi rodnoi,” Sa’aan murmured.

He addressed her tenderly, “Sa’ulenka, moya rodnaya, there is none so courageous, nor any so eloquent, that recalling the words of the truly great might not ennoble and sustain them in times of crisis. All in all, I’d rather be alive than not, but a world in which your own life continued was worth risking everything, even if it meant my own death, since you were, as I’d theorized, the key to everything, including least of all the culmination of my own personal desires. Existence would be far less sweet if I had turned aside from your extremity through cowardice. During the long years I lingered waiting for you to appear, the words of Marcus Aurelius were of some comfort to me, and so I remembered them.”

“No need to explain, dear heart, I’m rather fond of him myself. My father always liked him, and often quotes him in reference to the demands of Torah.”

“I’d like to meet your father,” Ishmael said thoughtfully, “He sounds like an interesting man.”

“And my mother,” she answered. “You’d especially like her, I think. She’s very fierce.”

He rumbled with amusement, “I take it your own qualities are theirs in part? You yourself are both erudite and fierce, a pleasing combination.”

“I thought at first of making an object lesson of them,” she admitted, “but that was mostly anger occasioned by the threat to those particular whales, the sight of the bodies stacked in the hold, and the heat of the moment. By the end of our encounter my rage had passed and compassion took over, along with calculated strategy. The Captain of the Kujira Maru, especially, was so pathetically brought low that I couldn’t have heaped another indignity upon his head and respected myself thereafter. I didn’t need to in any case, and the implication of letting them all live is far more frightening, I think, than the alternative. Any fool can kill people, but we never know what will come of any life, even that of the most depraved villain. The Captain, for example, experienced a spiritual epiphany toward the end of our encounter, well before I destroyed his ship, and will, I think, lead many pure humans to enlightenment before they are finally absorbed into our unity. Others among his crew were similarly affected, and many now regard their affliction as a great boon, both as punishment for past sins, and as an opportunity for further spiritual development.”

“Hang on a bit!” Edith objected. “You destroyed this vessel? Wasn’t that somewhat highhanded?”

“Not at all,” Sa’aan replied with casual sang-froid. “I was acting in hot pursuit of an organized band of pirates engaged in — indeed, caught in the very act of furthering a murderous conspiracy to commit grotesque acts of slaughter and cannibalism on the high seas, a contiguous sovereign territory claimed by all cetaceans in its entirety. The fully-restored mind of the large whales was present and both assented to and assisted with the execution of my judgments both generally and in detail, as did a large number of awakened Chimeræ, including many in Japan, so I had the full weight of both international law and precedent to support my actions. I have an extensive vid record of the entire incident to document the incident as well, if anyone cares to quibble. And it wasn’t just one vessel; it was all of them. Every vessel whose officers and crew were either actively engaged in murder or supported it was, or will soon be, transported across the dimensional barrier between our spacetime continuum and the primary ground of our being, there to be rendered into primal particles, just as the remaining nuclear weapons have been by the whales. Even as we speak, I can sense them doing the same to both excess carbon-dioxide and other pollutants in the atmosphere and to many toxic substances in the oceans as well. The officers and crews are and will be safe until brought to justice as expeditiously as possible.”

“Compassion isn’t synonymous with ‘namby-pamby.’ True compassion can be cruel, even fatal, and that option was on the table. I chose one vessel, the most immediately culpable, as a deliberate example, and its captain responded admirably in that capacity, both corroborating my suspicion that he and the owners had long known of intelligent Chimeræ among the whales, and fully came to grips at last with his own complicity in a genocidal holocaust which had indirectly led to the deaths of many of his own countrymen, as well as countless other humans and living creatures around the world. When I left him, he had resolved to make whatever amends he could, and to live a blameless life thereafter.”

“So he’s worth far more alive than he ever would be dead,” Ishmael observed.

“Precisely,” Sa’aan answered. “True compassion is subtle, and takes all contingencies into account, including seeming cruelty which achieves a beneficial change in an individual. A martyr is worse than useless, whilst a convert is a pearl of great price. What had been a common pirate and thug has been transmogrified into a potential saint and partisan. The Captain’s humiliation was both far crueler than simply snuffing out his life — allowing him his grand and stupid gesture of martyrdom — and far more merciful, because it enables him to more fully atone for his past transgressions, come to terms with them, and grow beyond his former limits. I know now that he knew of cetacean chimerism, as did his superiors, so he may well make a wonderful witness for the prosecution in our lawsuit, which might be another effective act of catharsis and reconciliation for him. The immediate and total destruction of the whaling fleet was the same, seemingly cruel because it instantly wiped out the capital of the owners — and was a legitimate act of war so there will be no insurance compensation whatsoever — but ultimately humane as well, because they would have spent tons of money and effort trying to salvage their investment in vain, and because it convinced many others of the wisdom of repentance and cooperation. We can go after what’s left of the whaler’s fortunes at leisure but they’ve had a stern measure of justice meted out to them already, which was an object lesson to everyone else. You’ll notice that the deep sea fisheries industry capitulated almost instantly, after seeing what we did to the whalers, since they will be able to salvage, at least, their vessels and cargoes — an option they might not have had if they’d struck a belligerent attitude — and may offer the opportunity to convert their vessels to non-destructive but profitable use, salvaging the livelihoods and lifestyle of at least some of the crews.”

“Thereby improving their fitness for life in our brave new world,” Leana chorused cheerfully.

Sa’aan concurred, “Such is the way of the world. Those that learn, survive; those that don’t are left behind. And on that note, dear friends, Nakia, Edith, Leana, I’d like to invite you all to dinner at my parent’s home tomorrow, by the poolside I hope. Ishmael and I have something to say to them, and it’s the New Year.”

Leana whooped with glee, “You’re going to do it! Jing-tsai! Now they’ll have to go along with almost anything I do! Living in Vancouver is going to be so much fun!”

Sa’aan said agreeably, “I’m sure it will. And now if you’ll excuse me, I have to make a call.”

The sounds of Leana’s whoops could still be heard in the background as her parents activated the link. Her mother spoke first, “Sa’aan dear, how nice of you to call. We gather from your sister’s hilarity that you have something important to tell us?”

Sa’aan said, “I do, actually. Mom, Dad, guess who’s coming to dinner?”

Chapter Eleven — Home Again, Home Again

Sa’aan floated in her pool, half dozing despite the early hour, exhausted after the long day and night and then the long swim back home again. Ishmael floated by her side, barely touching her skin at times as the water moved them slightly back and forth, but she knew he was busy impressing her father with his thoughts on The Tale of Genji, written more than eleven hundred years ago by Murasaki Shikibu, a female courtier in the Japanese Imperial Court, for the amusement of her fellow nobles.

Her father, in the meantime, was finding that Ishmael was a formidable opponent in debate, having what amounted to an eidetic memory of anything he’d ever plucked from the brain of an unsuspecting mariner. While he agreed with her father that the writing was superb, he decried the uses to which Murasaki Shikibu’s talent had been put, extolling the virtues of a serial rapist and all-around cad, seemingly because he was so handsome — not to mention being of noble blood — that he ought to be able to get away with anything, even in the eyes of his female admirers. In his view, this was a lopsided and distorted relationship with the culture and environment in which he lived, and reflected a pathological blight on the overall œcology of feudal Japan which led inevitably to its eventual conquest by the Western Powers, the old USA for the most part, which led ultimately to World War II hundreds of years ago and the slow decline of American prestige and power.

Sa’aan smiled. Ishmael was proving to be almost as skilled at detecting larger patterns as she was. She wondered idly if this was one of the things the whales had been breeding for.

The only thing that had kept their discussion from becoming heated was the fact that it had been completely silent, perforce conducted entirely through mental communications. She could tell, however, that her father was very pleased by the look in his glinting eyes, and by the occasional twitch in his jaw.

Well, that went well, Sa’aan thought to herself. After considerable awkwardness during their initial meeting, her father had been slowly won over, first by Ishmael’s obvious doting on her every word, which went a long way toward convincing her father that she was serious when she’d introduced him as her intended, but then by his erudition, which had quite taken her father by surprise. He’d brought up his lack of formal education right away, and had assured both her parents that he intended to rectify that lack immediately, now that he knew it was possible, but had gone on to display a deep understanding of and familiarity with a wide range of Russian, Chinese, Japanese, German, Spanish, and French literature, even in casual conversation, that had demonstrated as no mere protestations could have that he lacked neither native wit nor will to learn, but had previously found opportunities for consistent and sustained study hard to come by, being utterly dependent on the leisure interests of the seafaring crew who passed through his world quite unaware of the subtle eavesdropping from below. From that point on, Ishmael might just as well have been announced by a choir of angels, at least in her father’s estimation, and they were off to the races. Speaking of which….

She opened a private channel to Nakia, who was up in the house drinking a cup of tea. “Hi, Nakia. Sorry to interrupt if you’re busy, but do you think you could set up the same implant series for Ishmael that you gave me? I’d be glad to pay whatever they cost.”

“Sa’aan, dear heart, considering your recent efforts on behalf of the world, ably assisted by your stalwart Ishmael and the formidable Leana, I think we can spring for them at no charge, or perhaps formally presented as a gesture of good will toward one of our most recent citizens, already numbered among the most appreciated. In fact, now that I think of it, as new citizens all the cetacean Chimeræ are entitled to our services in any case, so we’ll have to forego the ceremony. I’ll have a complete set sent out by courier, together with another set of remotes. I’ll see if I can arrange a consultation and visit by the neurosurgical team that worked on you, but we kept very complete records, so any competent healer/surgeon team with access to a first-class neuromapper should be able to do the implants on an out-patient basis in the near future. It might take a week or two of simulation for the team, but we have that set up already, since the people who did your work practiced beforehand.”

Sa’aan was very pleased, and thrashed her flukes for a moment in her excitement, causing Ishmael to roll one eye toward her with a look of profound affection. She felt a flush of heat run through her blood and body as she said, “Thank you so much, Nakia! We really need to get him into the public eye, but as an articulate Chimera, not a talking whale who can only communicate through interpreters.”

“I understand. By having access to the everyday tools of human interaction, he’s made more human, despite his extremely divergent

“Exactly. From the first moment he appears in human context, I want us both to be seen as purely human, by those with useful brains at least, despite the fact that it isn’t quite as simple as that.”

Sa’aan sighed heavily, for effect, since these human expressions of emotion were always artifacts for her, accomplished through fine control of her mental processes rather than a human vocal tract and breathing reflexes. “Yes. I’ve obviously created a monster. I think I liked it better when I had him pretty much to myself.”

Nakia chuckled. “Well, dear, it’s all part of being a family you know. You’ll have him to yourself often enough, and part of what we bring to those we love are our lives outside the relationship, although that may be hard to grasp at first. Too much togetherness quickly becomes stifling, and cloys rather sooner than later.”

She sighed again, almost imperceptibly, somewhat petulantly, a little disappointed to hear so much mature advice and so little overt sympathy. “I do know that, at least intellectually, and connecting him to the world via BioLync will only make it worse. As it is, he can only talk to telepaths, but soon he’ll be able to talk to anyone.”

Sa’aan was now amused. She hadn’t heard that phrase spoken before, but she supposed that it might be a Virginia localism. On a whim, she looked it up on the net and found that it there were significantly more uses of ‘mark my words’ by citizens of the old Commonwealth than by Americans these days, and vaguely speculated about Nakia’s past history before saying, “I’ll write them down.”

Nakia did a double take, which was odd since she couldn’t actually see Sa’aan restlessly lounging in the water below, and then smiled and said, “You got me. Was I being pompous?”

“Just a little. Redundant, mostly. I’m more in need of shared experience and heartfelt commiseration than wisdom right now.”

Nakia shrugged with an almost Gallic eloquence. “I’m not sure I have that much to offer, Sa’aan. First loves are hard; negotiating the transition between childhood and adulthood is hard; a full measure of heartache is part of the process. I can only offer my own experience, which was tumultuous, often tearful, sometimes filled with rage and angry words, and otherwise fraught throughout my teenage years, but has been followed by full measures of joy and, perhaps more importantly, lasting satisfaction.”

Sa’aan was a little puzzled. “I can hardly imagine you as a moody teenager.”

Nakia laughed with warm good humor. “Oh, I wasn’t always as cool and collected as my job now requires me to be. It took quite some time for what I now regard as my better qualities to develop. I cringe a bit when I think of how silly my adolescent sarcasm and histrionics must have seemed to those around me back then. I think you’re very lucky. Your parents seem to be supportive rather than controlling, as mine often were, and you’re out from under their roof — as you pointed out before our encounter with the cetacean overmind — and so have been magically transformed into an essentially emancipated minor at the very time in your life when parental restrictions and compromise first begin to chafe. And then to top it all off, you’ve managed to run off with a

Sa’aan thought about that for an instant before saying, “I suppose I have, but not in the same sense that rebellious teenagers are famous for. My own flight was toward responsibility rather than away from it, and although Ishmael has been something of a vagabond in the past, it wasn’t by choice. In fact, it was you who pointed out that I was Wendy in this particular variation of the Peter Pan story, and here I am

Nakia went to the window and looked out, although she still couldn’t see Sa’aan directly. “I meant it as a compliment, you know. And I think that nurturance has always been a part of your nature. Leana showed me your special preservation vault for antique graphic novels, something most fourteen-year-olds would never have thought of, much less taken the trouble to arrange. And then you made astonishing and sustained efforts to protect your parents and sister when mortal danger threatened you, managing to keep your wits about you and focused on the welfare of others when many ordinary citizens — of any age — might have curled up into a whimpering little ball of self-pity. In fact, your actions, as far as I can see, have been a crash course in growing up for all of us. The captain of the factory ship you…, we…, tipped into oblivion has blown the whistle, not only on himself, but on his employers right up the chain of command and through several highly-placed government officials, all of whom have resigned in disgrace. Several have already been arrested and are facing prosecution in Japanese courts, which may or may not be a face-saving measure on the part of the authorities. The Imperial government has in any case issued a formal apology to the nations of the world, which will include the cetaceans as soon as formal lines of communication can be opened.”

Sa’aan didn’t have to think about that; she’d already researched the issue. “I’ll have to see what I can arrange in the way of an official embassy. The great whales themselves have bigger fish to fry, so I suppose we’ll have to subcontract diplomacy and other legal issues along the lines of the trade agreements between the EU and most other Western nations, but the orcas and lesser dolphins are more closely tied to the land and perhaps more likely to interact with humans, so we’ll have to see what they think. Many probably won’t bother, but some will surely be interested. I’ve already been in touch with Cassells, Bruillard, Cohen, and Ahenakew in Montreal, and they believe that the extraterritoriality and dual citizenship issues can be worked out in such as way as to ensure that ambulatory humans can legally stand in for cetacean interests, even in issues of international law and diplomacy, although interactions mediated by mobiles are also a possibility.”

“That’s something I’m a little troubled about, Sa’aan, since it seems to me more likely than not that the idea of the large cetaceans as a nation is more like a convenient fiction on your part rather than reality. I can’t imagine them taking the time to engage in negotiations, for example, and the entire machinery of human diplomacy seems beneath their notice.”

Sa’aan laughed. “Oh, I quite agree, and knew I couldn’t slip that past you. If the whales were seriously annoyed with us, I suspect that they’d simply kill us all and wait around for the bears, or some other likely candidate, to attain a higher civilization and then go on from there. The idea of an embassy, and ambassadors, is for our safety and convenience rather than any requirement of the whales, I think. They haven’t consulted with me, but among the new genetic sequences and abilities they discovered in me are the methods by which they could take direct and decisive action in the world above the seas. This is, as you might imagine, a mixed blessing.”

Nakia shrugged gracefully and stretched out her fingers, extending her claws for a moment before continuing. “Well, I have to admit that I’ve been rather pleased by their ‘decisive’ actions so far, but I can see that their obvious tendency to act rather than negotiate might adversely impact my sangfroid eventually. So your idea is basically to present a preëmptive ‘cetacean’ stance to the world lest they discover the need to express their will more directly?”

“That pretty much sums it up. The whales are radical anarchists, as might be expected, since they evidently lived millions of years in utter solipsistic isolation — at least as agents of intelligent change in this world — until we, humanity and the orcas, both first amongst their immediate relatives, and to a lesser extent the elephants and bears, came along. They’re still quite capable of rearranging the world in startling ways which we, and by that I mean mostly people with hands and feet, might not be totally comfortable with. It would be fairly simple, for instance, to dump the rest of the East Antarctic ice cap into the sea, raising sea levels by another hundred and sixty feet or so, which might annoy the Floridians especially, but also island and coastal residents throughout the world.”

“But why would they do anything like that?” She was puzzled and perplexed, but not alarmed.

Sa’aan had a ready answer, “Well, aside from the possibility of increasing krill and algæ production, a net benefit to the health of the oceans and atmosphere, despite the short-term increase in land-based pollution as the rising seas washed over the former shorelines and inland, it would quite handily eliminate an awful lot of industrial production and shipping, as well as a bunch of farmland, so the net effect would be to quickly reduce our impact on the Earth even further than they’ve already managed to ensure.”

Nakia looked startled, then suddenly walked through the kitchen door and down the back stairs and over to the edge of the bluff, then out onto the landing at the top of the stairs leading down to the beach and pool below. She gazed inscrutably down toward Sa’aan, Ishmael, and her father, the latter two seemingly oblivious, although both shifted slightly under the heavy weight of her regard. After a pregnant pause, she said simply, “Oh….”

“Indeed,” Sa’aan said with studied calm. “We both know that they culled us at least once — I’m now fairly sure as a deliberate side-effect — and there’s nothing at all to prevent them doing it again if they saw the need. Human concern for the systemic consequences of our actions is suddenly critical for our short-term survival as well as in the long term, now that they know that we know the score, as they’ll expect us to act a lot more like whales than we’ve managed hitherto.” Sa’aan rolled one eye toward Nakia, supplementing her mental view with ordinary reality.

Nakia thought about this for a long moment before answering, “Well, they say

Sa’aan was relieved that she seemed to have grasped the urgency of their situation, but hadn’t been excessive in reaction. “I’m optimistic, of course, most notably because of our new understanding of reality and at least limited access to the cetacean overmind as well as our own, now distributed widely around the Chimeric world, but also cautious, because the whales themselves identified other potential players on the global stage in the form of those who contacted them so long ago. Who’s to say these original demiurges won’t stop by to check on progress from time to time, with an idea toward correcting course if they feel their enterprise has gone astray?”

“Exactly! We have the attention of a significant portion of the world right now, and it would be a shame for thoughts of tradition, personal gain or loss, or mere inertia, to distract us from those actions we know must be taken. A man named Robert Heinlein once wrote a book, hundreds of years ago now, but he described a world vaguely like our own, inhabited by dangerous people. It was called Beyond this Horizon, which seems somewhat apropos, and he extrapolated an almost courtly level of courtesy and elaborate good manners as the logical outcome of a society in which it was hazardous to offend anyone. I think he used Renaissance France as his model, complete with duelling, dandified men who didn’t mind discussing the best shades of nail polish of an afternoon and whether the pink satin walking suit was appropriate when trotting off to a face-to-face encounter with death on he field of honor just before eventide. Would evening wear be appropriate? Velvet? What actually caught my fancy about it was his literary invention of the waterbed back in 1942, which was described in sufficient detail that the people who actually first made one couldn’t patent it. His idea of half the world, the men at least, walking around carrying guns and dueling in the streets — even in the middle of a crowded restaurant — was silly, of course, and incredibly sexist, but the notion of danger and courtesy stuck in my head for some reason. And here we are with dangerous neighbors, but not a childish fantasy of supermen with guns.”

“You know, Sa’aan, the range of your knowledge scares me sometimes. How on earth did you stumble across that particular book? I’ve never heard of it, or him, but you rattle off the name and date as if he’d been on the vids just yesterday.”

“Well, you’ll think it was silly, but I was out in the Strait, my first night dozing alone, rocked in the cradle of the deep, you might say, but restless. I have a lot of free time on my hands, since I’m sleepless by design — did you know there was

“I’d forgotten his name then,” she said. “So it was random chance?

“Who knows? In a world in which we’ve just found out that our very existence was planned and arranged for by non-human entities from the vasty deep, in turn called forth by voyagers from the very stars, in which many of our proudest accomplishments were prompted by or mediated through the intervention and nurture of others, it’s difficult to say what ‘chance’ is any more, what ‘random’ means, or what insights may be hidden in Jung’s idea of synchronicity. Have some of us been able to access the overmind all along? Is the ‘cocktail party effect’ that allows us to listen to a single conversation in chaotic sound space also responsible for ‘tuning out’ information that comes from a place outside our expectation? Is the opposite phenomenon, in which a person using certain drugs becomes abnormally sensitive to linkages between wildly disparate conversations, a part of the same mechanism? Or is it something else entirely? Let’s just say that I was surprised by Heinlein, and now see rough similarities between certain aspects of his futurisitic ‘wild west’ story and our own situation. One can hardly argue that our horizons haven’t been expanded, that we haven’t seen the

“So this Heinlein fellow foresaw all this?” Nakia sounded skeptical, but not outright dismissive of the idea.

“Not at all, not even in the tiniest detail, but his protagonist, a type of Nietzschean superman experiencing an existential crisis, was looking for a reason to live, wanted to know that ‘this’ — whatever it was — wasn’t all there is, that there was a larger context within which his life had larger meaning. And here we are, the children, if you will, of angels, flown down from the heavens to give us the spark of life and intelligence, trusting to our own angelic natures to pass on that gift into the void. How huge a context can we demand? Our tiny human context now spans galaxies and vast immensities of time, far beyond the rock we live upon, the puddles we swim in, extending out into the furthest reaches of space and time and possibly beyond.”

“And yet so simple and so small,” Nakia mused, looking out toward the open strait, “the ordinary wish of every parent to see their children take their first steps, to prepare the way for them, to pass on their own inheritance into the unknowable future.”

Sa’aan wasn’t feeling particularly philosophical. “And what more can we ask? That was God’s promise to Abraham, as I recall, that he would make of him a great nation, and this seemed to him more than adequate compensation, with no extraordinary supernatural rewards promised or mentioned.”

Nakia smiled, looking back down to where Sa’aan moved restlessly in the pool, her father and Ishmael beside her, one with her in the water, one standing easily at the very edge of the coping around the pool.“So here we are in this best of all possible worlds, and we still have to work for a living…?”

“

Nakia asked carefully, changing the subject, “But if our strength lies in the overmind, how are we to make plans, much less execute them, without the whales becoming aware of them?”

Sa’aan moved her fins back and forth, her approximated equivalent of Nakia’s eloquent shrug, “We can’t, of course. In fact, they’ll be expecting us to investigate and discuss our new reality, and make plans to better it, which is all we really have to do. The paradigms of global negotiations have changed, since there is no longer any possibility of disguising self-interest or deception, and no method of intimidating other partners, since all have access to the same means of defense and there are no longer any inequalities to make bribery possible. None of these distortions of our relationships with each other and the world are possible anymore, since all secrets, past and future, are now instantaneously revealed, whether military, commercial, or diplomatic.”

“Really? That’s going to cause some considerable consternation in some circles.” Nakia raised one eyebrow expressively, but didn’t elaborate.

“Not among those who really count,” she gave a little flip of her flukes that caused a smallish wave to wash onto the deck around the pool. Ishmael rolled one eye toward her and then looked away. She continued, “only dolts who haven’t yet grasped the new structure of reality. It will soon enough become quite clear. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, and even I, who was bred for this task, have to concentrate to know it, but the connection we all felt to the overmind is still there, but fainter, and if I concentrate I can eavesdrop on their thoughts, however incomprehensible just now, because they’re discussing a plan and a technology that may be ancient to them, but is still quite beyond my ability to grasp unaided, at least without more time to puzzle out the assumptions and context of the plan. I assume they can do the same to me, and to every Chimera alive, and they have the advantage of having been old and wise when we were born, so they’ve had ample opportunity to study us.”

Nakia laughed out loud, causing Ishmael and Sa’aan’s father to glance up to where she stood, “The perfect parents, who really do know what we’re thinking!”

Ishmael’s thoughts entered her mind, as warm and comforting as a warm blanket on a cold morning, before her life had changed, “Sa’aan.

She caressed his thoughts as if they were that remembered blanket, saying, “Not at all, my very dear

But for the fact that he was shameless, and had no inclination toward dissimulation or apology, he might have blushed, “Was it that obvious? I must admit it’s been a pleasure to engage in dialogue with another male, broadly defined….”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about it just now, it’s enough that we’re no longer children.” Sa’aan resumed their former discussion without preamble, “How committed are the Chimeræ in government right now?”

Nakia switched gears with equal aplomb, “Very. We’re all aware that we’re on the cusp of a new era, and must be bold where we were cautious before. All the ordinary humans are scared to death of what the whales might do to them, especially Norway and Japan, so they’re turning to their Chimeric citizens as never before, even those countries that have held them in contempt for centuries, as potential saviors from the whales. The vids of the whaling ship vanishing, and all the other vids of ships disappearing, all over the world, with no fireworks at all, and with such casual concern for the welfare of the crews, have made a deep impression on all of humanity. The Chimeræ, though, all those who participated in our linkage and realized what it means, which is roughly all of us, even those still without personal access to the overmind, are feeling their oats, especially in those countries and regions where they were formerly despised, because we’re all telepathic now, and can read human minds with no effort at all, so we all of us instantly know who our enemies are, and are instantly aware of whatever hateful things they’ve done before.”

Sa’aan snorted. “Byron said, ‘Now hatred is by far the longest pleasure; Men love in haste, but they detest at leisure.’ It will be a generation or two before the hatred goes away, since envy runs deep to the bone. But there will be no ‘pure,’ or even purish, humans in the next generation, so the problem will go away eventually, and their fear ought to encourage a certain circumspection while we wait. We should do little or nothing to counteract it, I think, and indeed perhaps encourage it in certain circles.”

Nakia looked slightly smug as she said, “Already in progress, at least in North America. We, that is Canada, the RSA, and Mexico, with the notable exception of Alaska, of course, have had national police officers contact all the Purist enclaves to let them know that there will be no more nonsense from them, and to encourage them to promptly hand over any criminals they may be harboring before we stop by and pluck the information from their brains, then charge them with our choice of aiding and abetting or conspiracy. Most of the gang who attacked you are already in custody, and we’re backtracking even as we speak, with the full coöperation of the Japanese chimes.”

“Probably not,” she said, “although it still has to be tested in the appellate courts. It’s only been a day and we’ve already had a lower court ruling from the bench, admittedly by a Chimera who happened to be a judge and now knew everything the prosecutor and the defendant knew, that the ubiquity and increased casualness of our new ability changed the rules, and that a mental ‘glance’ is just as evidentiary as if an officer had seen a crime being committed before their eyes, or saw evidence of a crime lying out in plain sight. I expect it will hold up under higher court scrutiny, at least in North America, and doubt the Supreme court will long delay in affirming, since many judges can easily ascertain the innocence or guilt of a defendant through just looking at them now. There comes a point when common sense prevails, even in a courtroom.”

Now that’s interesting, Sa’aan thought. The legal system will obviously have to change to fit the new reality, but I hadn’t imagined it might change so quickly. She said aloud, “I predict that the incidence of crime will go down enormously once everyone has access to the overmind, since every moment will be observable, at least in theory.”

“No doubt, but in the meantime, all we can do is catch the bad guys. Given enough time, they may figure it out. On the other hand, most of them are awfully dumb.”

“It ought to decrease the frequency of civil suits as well,” she continued, “since everyone’s cards will be face up on the table for everyone to see.”

“I hadn’t thought of it, but can see your point. Since the liability laws changed, though, we don’t see too many of those anyway. Civil cases tend to settle quickly after independent analysis of actual loss, since legal costs are not excepted from the general rule of strict liability, which tends to discourage a lot of maneuvering and obfuscation, and court orders for mental search warrants have pretty much limited anyone’s ability to ‘hide behind lawyers.’ ”

Sa’aan was moderately disappointed. “So you think it doesn’t change all that much?”

Nakia thought about this for a moment. “Well, I do suppose it will make it easier to identify the perpetrators of civil torts, just as it will criminals, which would be a big help, but from there on, not so much. I suspect we have more pressing problems, though, since we have many real people who will really suffer harm under the new regime, however well-advised the changes might be. That’s a political as well as a legal problem, and is your most delicate issue, I think. Your own initiation of an object lesson to draw the world’s attention will make the political end easier, but the sheer numbers of affected parties will require a large staff to handle the correspondence, much less negotiating with governments all around the world over who pays for relocations and retraining of people and businesses doomed to fall by the wayside.”

Sa’aan thought about this for a moment, then said, “I’ll have to contact Cassells and company today and start things moving. I obviously have to give up my gypsy life and take a straight job, now that I have family obligations,” she

Nakia made a sympathetic clucking sound, which Sa’aan realized was as studied as her own amateur sound-effects, a mental construct made solely for her comfort, and instantly grasped why Leana was so skilled with similar acts of grace, “I’m sure Wendy felt much the same, wiping noses and tidying the hidden tree-house while all the boys were out having adventures, but we only hear her story from the perspective of a boy.”

Sa’aan felt a sudden flash of feminist outrage, but then it passed, leaving pity and compassion behind, “But the whales were suffering. I couldn’t wait.”

“Exactly,” Nakia wryly observed.“And at least they weren’t all boys.”

Off Passage Island, in the Queen Charlotte Channel, Sa’aan drifted with Ishmael, both half dozing, their lazy movements through the water synchronized as unconsciously as their breathing, their mental maps of the bottom below them, and the Strait around them, refreshed from time to time with a ranging click — or a short burst of clicks — shared between them without conscious thought. They took turns. It was three in the morning. She was half-busy on the net, identifying potential threats and allies, tracing interesting lines of research, and reorganizing her database of linkages. She could sense the whales working, but still couldn’t decipher their purposes without full concentration and through fully merging with their unity. From the context, she imagined that they were busy with their projects on Titan and Jupiter, but wasn’t willing to delve further, lest she forget her own purpose.

She’d had word from Cassells and associates late yesterday, and they were drafting the storm of paper she’d asked them for, a constitution, legal framework, regulations, and so on. Since the whales, and now the Chimeræ, would be cast as single entities, voting, governing, and sitting in judgement as wholes, like the ancient Icelandic Alþingi, the documents were much simpler than most nations required, but the boundaries of a single expanse that encompassed the Earth itself were new concepts, since old ideas of continental shelves and the range of a cannonball no longer applied, and the whales’ kingdom was growing, millimeter by millimeter, as the seas rose. Sa’aan expected a lively business for their various agents across the globe, as this country or that argued for their ‘right’ to prevent the encroachment of the sea.

She expected most of these quarrels to be moot, in the long run, since she’d seen how slowly the whales were sequestering carbon dioxide, and now supposed the eventual collapse of the Antarctic ice caps — and the consequent slow rebound of the island archipelago beneath — to be inevitable, so was inclined to let the small things go, pending a more radical rearrangement of the order of the world as Chimerism became ubiquitous and universal among intelligent species during the next half century. She was beginning to appreciate the long view, the patience of the whales, and how gradual change could be yet yield astounding results when seen by a mind without fixed limits or horizons.

The real battles, she thought, would be over the almost universal human desire to let gravity do as much of the work as possible with waste disposal, allowing waste chemicals and other toxic materials to drain into the lakes and waters. Handling that, as well as cleaning up…. She caught herself as she realized that the same trick she’d used to dispose of the whaling ships, and the whales were using to dispose of some of the excess carbon-dioxide, could be used just as well on land and in fresh waters, might even evolve into a new chimeric specialty, what might be thought of as an environmental healer. While she thought of it, she sent off notes to Edith and Nakia so they could set people off to look into the idea, since both would have records that would allow them to compile lists of likely recruits. The program would be paid for directly by the entity causing the damage, as was already a fixed rule of law in both Canada and the RSA, which would in turn encourage actions to reduce this cost through sustainable alternatives. This was going to be jing-tsai.

Excited, she broke her sleepy rhythm and rose to the surface and rolled, looking up into the night sky, looking off into the starry deep of space, wondering which stars, which galaxies, held life, which were capable of communicating across the vast expanse of space and time, and which had touched our world so long ago.

Ishmael, of course, noticed instantly and rose beside her, rumbling in her head, “Moya rodnaya, are you well?”

She turned away from the stars and looked at him, His sleek body almost twice her length and easily two times her weight, but he didn’t frighten her at all. Instead, he felt familiar, the contours of his body already as comforting as the sight of home after a long voyage. She rubbed her flank along the curve of his back, “I am. I was just contemplating the past, and the future. We have a lot to do.”

“And a long time in which to do them, with many to help. You drive yourself too hard, cara mia,”

She managed to convey both her amusement at his comment and her ironic recognition of its truth while saying, “I know. I’m just a bit obsessive. I want everything to be arranged just so, but most of ‘everything’ is completely out of my hands.”

“Yes, they do,” she agreed, laughing at his droll performance, “and rightly so, or there would be no salmon.”

Sa’aan recognized his intention, and began to anticipate what she knew would come, so she saw his sudden rise with deep joy, following his ascent with her mind and spatial sense in tandem, his speed building, until he broke the surface in a rush and splash of salt water, rising in a high arc nearly forty feet into the air, twisting into a three hundred and sixty degree spin as gracefully as any small dolphin, and then plunged head-first into the sea with scarcely a ripple, an exquisite display of precision and power that was completely stunning in its beauty.

Ishmael replied without a hint of smugness,“Yes, I am, but you,

“And a silver-tongued devil as well,” she said, with a heart heavy with love, the weight of it sinking to her loins, “but I need you every bit as much as you need me. My ties to the land grow weaker every day, and you’re my chosen life-companion, my friend, and soon my lover, for our long voyage into time.”

He responded with a long string of ranging clicks, building an intimate image in both their minds of the entirety of their bodies and instantaneous environment, a loving gesture of admiration impossible for her previous self to have seen or understood, “For me, mon chérie, you are the purpose of every voyage, the beginning and the end of journeying.”

Sa’aan’s brain was in an unaccustomed haze of emotion, her thoughts as confused and conflicted as her feelings, but she couldn’t help saying, “Keep playing those cards right, sailor, and you might get lucky sometime soon.” She could hardly believe she’d said that, but she had.

“Never, my darling, would I take advantage of your youth, my own

“You’ve been reading Robert Graves, haven’t you?” Sa’aan spoke lightly, but her emotions roiled within her.

He gave an eloquent little flip of his flukes, the orca equivalent of a shrug, “Sailors are a philosophical lot, and

Sa’aan was skeptical, “You do know that he’s been heavily criticized by scholars of religion for his idea that one can be inspired to see the truth, even if there’s no actual data on which to base a theory?”

Ishmael flooded her mind with his affection and need, but continued their teasing game, “Analepsis, of course, the poetic flash of inner light that illuminates the past, but we know something that even Graves didn’t actually know, although he’d partially guessed it. I told you that all the world’s religions, with a very few modern exceptions, were started, for the most part inadvertently, by the whales, and what sort of religion do you think their matriarchal minds would spark? What notion of divinity comes from those whose deepest inner impulse is to preserve life and to facilitate its growth and nurturance?”

On one level, Sa’aan was having fun with their banter, but his hunger for her sparked a narcissisitic awareness of her own desireability, from which she was strangely detached and by which she was deeply excited. She looked again at her ovaries, her womb, and saw that her ovum was still viable, which made her restless and crazy. She said only, “So you’re saying that Graves was right?”

The light was changing around them as they spoke, the stars gradually fading as the night sky was shot through with the first hints of sunlight. The quality of the sounds was changing too, from the natural sounds of waves, wind, and marine life to an obscuring overlay of the more organized sounds of ships and fishing craft setting out for the day’s work.

Ishmael paused before he spoke, as if he were listening to the changing sound patterns, or had stopped to think, and then said, “Not in every detail, but certainly in his idea that religions all began with Great Mother cults. In whale culture, the females speak for the group, so any interaction that humans had with whales would have been with an essentially female presence, one having both goddesslike powers and immense physical size, and we know that they interacted with human cultures all around the world.”

Sa’aan paused as well, processing the idea to its conclusion, “I see. His critics undoubtedly started with the idea that ‘primitive’ religions are necessarily false, characterized by superstitions and barbaric myths, and many would have been outraged by his respectful treatment of Pagan symbolism — inspired by Frazer’s Golden Bough — especially when he flirted, as did Frazer, with the almost inevitable implication that much of Christianity was derivative of the Pagan myths that everyone knew were either false and harmful or mystical prefigurations of the revealed ‘Truth’ contained in the Gospels. So his theories weren’t at all popular in many academic settings, at least some of which were still affiliated with overtly Christian institutions. But we now know that there were historical human interactions with the whales, enormously powerful, non-human, and perhaps frightening entities, so we don’t have to work backward from scanty evidence, but can work forward from what we know to be true.”

“And from my memory of our interaction with the whale overmind, their own interactions with the extragalactic entity that guided their own evolution toward intelligence was with a similar female presence, although it’s possible that I could be mistaken.”

Sa’aan thought about this for a while, accessing her own memory of the experience and then touching the overmind itself for a quick reality check, “No, you’re absolutely right, and I don’t think you were mistaken.”

Ishmael was vastly amused by the thought that he could possibly be mistaken in reality, as opposed to polite demur, and let it leak through their link, which instantly cooled her flirtation with ardor, “And since we know that all religions started as Dharma, we have only to look toward the source of Dharma, the Adi Shakti, the Shekhinah, the Sins Sagaana, the feminine force that caused the primal singularity to give birth to the Universe we know, the compassionate creatrix of matter and light, our Great Mother, who loves us all.”

“But those are just fables, pre-scientific imaginings of first causes and comology. No one believes in those ancient fairy tales any more.” Sa’aan was a little peeved, and let that leak through their link.

If he’d had eyebrows, he would have raised one, but Sa’aan could feel his puzzlement. Good! Let him suck on that for a while!

Relatively imperturbed, he continued, “No one? Most of the world, I think, and isn’t this special pleading just a scientific variation of the orthodox outrage we all dismiss as inappropriate in regard to Frazer and Graves? But what does it matter in any case? Are modern ‘sciences’ — the word means only ‘knowledge’ — much more knowledgeable than mere speculation when it comes to first causes? Call it what you will, the Universe began in mystery, but is strangely hospitable to life. Is it better, or more scientific, to call this curious coïncidence the ‘

Now Sa’aan was back in familiar territory, for this was her father’s argument for tikkun, healing the world as an act of simple justice, “And that’s what the whales did for us,” she added, “and are doing now for the proto-life in the outer solar system.”

“Indeed,” he said. “And precisely what the entity the whales recognize as their own benefactor did for them. What does it matter how they rationalize it? It’s what they do that counts. In our experience on Earth, the bringing forth of every higher form of life is the female prerogative. It’s females who primarily devote themselves to creating the next generation, and we would probably recognize this function as feminine no matter what it was called, or how it was accomplished. The whales are our mothers, whether any of them are physically ‘female’ or not, because their overmind is bent upon motherhood. In Hinduism — a descendant of the first Dharma religions little changed from antiquity — all males are dead without the indwelling power of Shakti, their feminine power of action. It’s only when a man incorporates this feminine power to create and nurture life that he is able to create, or to do. Even the Gods bow to Shakti, and are powerless to thwart her slightest whim.”

Sa’aan now saw what he was saying, that in the face of the unknowable, the precise lineaments of one’s ignorance were less important than what one drew from imperfect understanding and carried forward. She said, only half a question, “And this inheritance calls us all to action, to take up motherhood and carry life foreward, for in so doing we recreate and heal the world?”

“Yes. We are all the recipients of gifts beyond price, life, the wit to take pleasure in living, and the ability to pass on these gifts to others. What more can we ask? It would be miserly and mean-spirited to refuse this opportunity to demonstrate our sense of justice through the

Sa’aan laughed, “That reminds me of an antique precursor of the graphic novel, the ‘comic strip,’ and a particular example called Li’l Abner, which lampooned the model of the ruthless capitalist in a character called General Bullmoose, who was so miserly of his own life that he slept in a freezer, the better to preserve his own cold heart.”

“Well, I’ve never heard of it,” Ishmael said bemusedly, “but it does exemplify a prototype of a particular thoughtless masculinity. The Kena Upanishad tells a story of the very highest among the Great Gods, Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva, who wanted to create the Universe but were puzzled over how to go about it, so they sat around drinking beer and arguing, as men are wont to do. As they were expounding upon their exalted theories and plans, Shakti appeared before them and transformed these feckless Gods into beautiful young maidens, whereupon they instantly remembered that they were actually supposed to be doing something useful and creative, as they were destined to do by the new bodies they inhabited. So they instantly repented, turned away from their former indolence, and sang hymns of praise to Her sacred power of creation. They then begged Her to teach them again the sacred revelation that they had forgotten, the awesome cycle of the world’s creation, preservation, and eventual destruction that is only the smallest portion of the Great Mystery that is Shakti, the Ancient Goddess, ever young and the Source of every blessing. Of course, the noble Goddess instantly forgave them and filled their minds with knowledge.”

Sa’aan laughed again, “Somehow, my dear, that sounds as if you’d made at least half of it up from whole cloth.”

Ismael was indignant, but in a studied manner, “You cut me to the quick, my very dear. As it says in the Shaktisangama Tantra: ‘Shakti is the creator of the Universe; · The Universe itself is her sublime body; · Shakti is the foundation of the entire world; · She is the subtle energy that animates the true body.’ I do admit, however, that I deliberately phrased this noble truth in a manner I thought might amuse you.” He regarded her with that maddening look of love that made her very nervous and very content, both at once.

To cover her anxiety, and because she was very fond of the big dope, she said, “And in

“Which obviously refers to your own claim that males must be able to access Shakti power in order to actually do anything, as opposed to talking about it.”

“Well, it’s not entirely my claim, since the Vedic sources explicitly say this, but I did take a little poetic license — as do the texts themselves — when I showed the Gods talking, since without the power of Shakti they cannot speak, nor even breathe. Shakti’s gracious generosity is constantly shown in all these confrontations with the reality of her power, since she freely grants the power to argue with her, even to defy her, as well as to coöperate in her grand design.”

She drew back a little from their close pairing, observing him with one eye, “So, does this mean you’ll do whatever I tell you to do?”

He studied her as judiciously as she regarded him, “Within reason, yes, but I’m neither puppet nor sycophant. I am a great power in the sea, but you have some sway over the land as well. I must defer to your judgement always… there.”

She smiled to herself, “Then among the things we must arrange is the provision of the same technological adjuncts as were supplied for me. I want you to embrace all aspects of your power, and live without imposed limits in any world, and it should only take a week or so.”

“As it should be,” he said gravely. “I agree, and make a further suggestion, that you stop ‘micromanaging’ this work you’ve set in motion, and allow your servants and friends to sort some things out on their own.”

She nuzzled his flank with great affection, and could see how it stirred him. She was more than broadly amused, “That’s a very good idea, lyubimiy. I’d like to have a life, now that I’ve twice survived my own rebirth, and stood midwife to the whales, and this seems an appropriate season.”

There was that look again, that maddening look he gave her at the slightest excuse, of mingled love and lust, “Moya rodnaya, I’d like that too,” he said. “In fact, with your permission, I insist.”

She felt a new heaviness in her own nether parts and laughed in pure joy, joy and love unbounded, and then she spared a thought for

Two weeks later, to the day, Ishmael fully-recovered from his out-patient surgery for the implantation of high-tech gadgetry, Sa’aan focused on the garages which housed her land mobiles, opening the doors and taking both outside. She experimented with their access methods for a few moments, and studied the movement routines built into their onboard AIs before setting hers out across the hard and up to the stairs. They were fitted for stair-climbing, which she supposed had all been arranged by Nakia when she was still unconscious, or perhaps the capability was standard, since stairs were not uncommon, even with the near-ubiquitous slideways making them slightly anachronistic, at least in public spaces. Private homes didn’t usually have slideways, though, so the access to her parent’s house from the beach was fairly typical. She smiled to herself as she thought,

Now that she had both mobiles safely out in the open, she released one and said to Ishmael, who was beside her in the pool, but had joined with her in a psychic survey of the mobiles and their workings, “Can you see the access methods, dear? They should announce themselves to your BioLync now that I’ve released the one mobile.”

He didn’t answer at first, but then his mobile stirred and began to move along the walk beside the pool, quickly accelerating to maximum speed, almost running off the edge until the onboard AI saw the danger and slowed it to a stop before it plunged into the water. “Well, I think I’ve got the hang of it, but it’s different from the simulators. I could hardly restrain myself from treating it as if I were swimming.”

“I saw, my love. You have to be slightly more sedate on the land, as there are far more things to bump into and the possibility of accidental falling is ever-present, a curious disability we have no experience of in our natural environment, but manageable. Not to worry, though; the AI will keep the mobile from any serious harm, and save your dignity where possible. You’ll be fluent in this dance in an hour or two, as I know your prowess and grace. You’ll have it doing somersaults by this time tomorrow.”

“Perhaps not,” he said. “I’m quite content just to move about sedately just now. The relayed sensorium, coupled with the sight of hard surfaces beneath me, is making me a little queasy, in spite of knowing that I’m safe in the water.”

“Wait till we get you up into the air!” she said excitedly. “You’ll love it; it’s a lot like swimming, but you can climb up and up almost forever, and see almost forever too, like an impossibly endless leap from the sea. It’s quite delicious.”

“I can hardly wait.” He seemed slightly less than completely enthusiastic.

Sa’aan opened the voice circuit on her mobile and said, “Now let’s try the audio interface.”

The other mobile’s paired manipulators went straight up into the air as it said aloud, “Alright, you got me, copper, I’ll go quietly.”

“That’s the spirit,” she said, and they both laughed and laughed and laughed.

It was a few weeks later, the evening of both Rosh Kodesh and Halloween, which coïncidence Sa’aan found entirely appropriate, when she was able to gather all the threads of her purpose and her closest allies together. Edith and Nakia were present in her parents’ living room, with their respective spouses, Julie Cameron, a cat Chimera, and Darnell Inconnu, who looked to be a dog Chimera, as well as Sa’aan’s immediate family and the mobiles used by Ishmael and herself.

Sa’aan started off without much of a preamble, “I suppose some of you have been wondering what’s been happening recently, since it’s the best part of a month since the world changed for all of us in the twinkling of an eye. First off, our team of lawyers have presented the diplomatic credentials of our agents to the Governor General of Canada, the Presidents of the RSA and Mexico, The Constitutional Monarch of Polynesia, and many other nations. We’re finalizing agreements with the rest of the world at a rapid pace, and expect we’ll have most of them in hand within the next month, with the notable exception of Russia and the Caliphates. We’ve let it be known that latecomers to the table may find the pie smaller when it comes time to portion out their share, but don’t expect the three exceptions I mentioned to capitulate. Nakia, would you care to comment further on the political front?”

“I would, although your nutshell summary pretty much covers it. The discriminatory laws restricting the freedoms of Chimeræ around the world are being repealed in most countries that still have them, and relatively bloodless coups have deposed several of the most intractable rulers. The UN is in negotiations with the remaining autocracies, including the Czar and both Caliphates, to create timetables for their transition to some form of democracy, although I don’t have much hope of a speedy resolution, since the last three are motivated by fanatical religious ideologies, and even with continued access to world resources at stake, including the provisional share already granted in reduced oceanic fisheries in exchange for instant cessation of repressive acts against the Chimeræ within their borders, these three are big enough to resist coercion. It helps that their nuclear arsenals are vanished into the void, so their blustering is confined to rattling sabres.”

“On the other hand,” she contined, “we officially believe that all of these are probably temporary measures, if Sa’aan’s predictions prove true, since a nation of full Chimeræ is not likely to be susceptible to any form of oppression from within or without.”

Sa’aan said, “I can almost guarantee it, Nakia, although it’s just barely possible that someone with access to modern genetic engineering technology could reclone a few fully human ‘naturals’ from preserved sperm and ova. Since most such labs are run by Chimeræ these days, the chances seem very slim, and we’d be able to easily detect the manipulation when the resulting children were born, so I’m not losing much sleep over the danger.”

Edith had a question, “I’m curious, though, about what forms of government are likely to replace the autocracies, since we’ve seen so many replaced by even worse regimes in modern history.”

“Again,” Nakia replied, “if Sa’aan is right, we don’t expect this to be a problem, since the global balance of power has already shifted in favor of the world population of Chimeræ and our overmind. The logical result — I suspect already foreseen by our dear friend — is the ‘withering away’ of the nation state forecast by Friedrich Engels, albeit for entirely different reasons.”

Sa’aan laughed, “I hadn’t thought of it in quite those terms. My own idea was much more modest, something more along the lines of many state functions becoming gradually redundant, since I can’t imagine any of the state agencies dedicated to hostility, or the ones that protect against national hostility, being of much use. With all of us being part of a single overmind, warfare becomes something more like literal suicide, and spying is beside the point, just to single out a few of the primary social cost centers. Give it a hundred years and the Caliphates will be history, along with the Czar and the rest of the holdouts, if any.” She’d deliberately imitated the voice of the Wizard from the old Wizard of Oz kidvid, still popular as a seasonal favorite.

Nakia chuckled, getting the joke, “But are we sure it was a wise idea to put that much power in the hands of so many people?”

“Well, yes,” Sa’aan answered.“Who else could we trust with such powers? Me? You? Our soi-disant ‘leaders?’ The whales themselves had been able to handle it safely for quite some time, and it will, I think, eventually encourage the few remaining autocracies to devolve, even if negotiations fail, deprived of the last vestiges of their power monopolies. When you think about it, the whales had done as much for us already, as ordinary Chimeric powers can be pretty spectacular and dangerous by ancient standards, and I really just extended the reach of those existing powers slightly, and improved them. We don’t have too many problems with rogue chimes nowadays, although there were a few in the early days ― before we gathered expertise in handling these special sorts of criminals ― and I don’t think these enhancements will change all that much on the criminal side of things. In fact, accessing the power of the overmind is necessarily a public and coöperative act, so any putative criminal would have to be a little crazy to imagine that the crime wouldn’t be discovered, probably before it was complete, or that the overmind itself wouldn’t see a crazy impulse for what it was and discard it instantly. It’s a poor democracy that falls apart over a single vote.”

“You may be right,” Edith said thoughtfully. “The remaining non-democratic states are almost uniformly hostile to Chimeræ, and often suppress us brutally, so placing even more power in Chimeric hands will eventually tip the balance our way, no matter how much their leaders drag their feet. I can’t say I’d be terribly disappointed, eh?”

Nakia laughed and said, “It sounds a lot like like the Thomas Jefferson approach to civil rights and freedom, but it’s worked quite well before. That’s the ultimate theory behind revolution, that ‘the tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants,’ so I suppose as a Virginian I’d have to agree.”

“Indeed,” Sa’aan said. “Civil society emerges naturally from tyranny and thuggery of all sorts, because eventually enough people get ticked off at the way things are that they tear down what oppresses them and build something new. Stable societies are mostly those that manage not to annoy too many citizens or neighbors. The thing is, though, that with Chimerism about to become much more common, in a generation there will be no more humans born who will consider themselves ‘pure’ by any stretch of the imagination. Only the oldest among us will look like antique humanity, as exotic to the rest of us as aliens from space, or the truly ancient Lucy, Australopithecus afarensis, perhaps among the earliest humanoid beneficiaries of cetacean generosity.”

Edith laughed, “Those little cartoon textbook sequences of ‘The Ascent of Man’ certainly don’t apply in the present day, much less the future you describe, but are not obsolescent in any way that the Purists might take comfort in.”

Sa’aan scoffed, “Certainly not. The Purists are already fading into history, as vicious and quaint as the Pilgrim Fathers, who lived in a hostile world, filled with paranoid fantasies of demons and devils and damnation through enternity and ruled by a wildly erratic and sadistic father God with whip in hand. Ishmael has kindly pointed out to me that humans who still remember their shaping by the whales, however dimly, live bathed in mother love, and the world they perceive is suffused with compassion and forgiveness. Instead of a distant and dangerous father, these earlier Dharma religions tend to perceive an all-pervasive Mother, the fabric of the cosmos sparkling with caring and kindness, where the Goddess peeps out from every spring and grotto, and where we all have equal shares of unending bounty.”

Sa’aan’s father said, his first contribution to the conversation, “The Dharma religions tend to be panentheistic, seeing an immanent divinity everywhere, and so are highly resistant to claims of locality or exclusivity, or to the arbitrary negations of patriarchal deisms, which tend toward restrictions, hostility, and fear, so are easily bent to hatred and persecution, indeed, derive their strength from these, with salvation the reward for those most contemptuous of others and for the world.”

“That’s why the Purists are largely irrelevant now,” Sa’aan added. “Many of the world’s inhabitants have now been reëxposed to what amounts to a religious apotheosis, their view of the world and their relationship to it forever changed for the better, as they themselves have been changed through the intervention of the overmind.”

Edith asked, without any particular passion, as though she were just making conversation after dinner, which, in fact, was exactly what she was doing, “Doesn’t it make you feel odd, though, to think that we’ve been bred like prize roses to serve the purposes of someone else?”

“Not at all. The shaping was mutual. In the end, I, or more precisely we, changed them as much or more than they changed us, and, in very fact, I and we were bred to change them. Who’s to say which purpose came first in a quantum sense, since the question itself is meaningless. It might be just as true to say that we created the whales, created the creatures who created them, and so on into solipsistic infinity, for the purpose of creating ourselves. Who can reasonably assert that we, the beneficiaries of trillions of years of more-or-less constant change, should now insist that change is a bad thing? People go to university or take courses or go on exercise regimens to improve themselves; they’re encouraged by parents, medical and psychological professionals, society at large, to change bad habits, attain new heights of personal achievement, and on and on. Should I blame my parents because they potty-trained me? Sent me to school? In fact, they did their level best to change me from a ‘state of nature’ into something better. Have you ever seen anyone, other than in old vids of course, actually set tobacco on fire and inhale it? Do we whip people to encourage them to work harder these days? Are grown women regularly talked about, or treated, as if they were inherently incompetent children? All these were seen as perfectly ‘natural’ not so long ago. What seems like the reasonable and ordinary state of affairs today was unnatural or exceptional then, and many of us are so shocked, or disgusted, by these ‘realistic’ portrayals of the past, that we routinely arrange for edited versions of the vids they left behind, substituting in virtual reality other, less offensive, behaviors for what now seems grotesque. So we’ve had a tuition-free education in living and long-term survival at the whales’ expense, and seem to be much the better for it. What’s not to like?”

“But shouldn’t we have had a free choice,” she pressed on, “or something like it?”

“Why? Who among us has a choice about being born at all? The most basic facts of our existence are the result of decisions and exigencies faced and handled by our parents, and their parents before them, all of which were and are completely beyond our control. Now that we’re here, now that we’ve grown beyond dependence, we do have a choice, and the whales took some pains to make such choices possible. In fact, if I read their final comment correctly, they’re encouraging us to go out into the world and make our own mark, just as any proud parent might do. It’s as if we’d found out late in life that we’d been ‘adopted’ by a fairy godmother who’d given us every advantage she could think of. It might be disconcerting, at first, to rearrange our family history in our minds, but again, what’s not to like?

“Chimerism has visibly changed our physical inheritance patterns at least, since we all have genetic material shared by other life forms here on Earth. That blending was initiated by the whales, but only at one remove from the extragalactic intelligence that altered them, and who knows how far back that chain of causation goes? Instead of the sullen resentment of the

“But we’re already the result of an enormous collaborative effort by everything that lives, as is every other creature here on Earth. The mitochondria in my cells didn’t ask permission to colonize my distant unicellular ancestors, although their ancient decision now makes my life possible. I didn’t ask the whales’ permission to change them drastically, altering their lives forever, based on my personal estimation of what they needed. Neither did they ask permission of the primitive proto-apes before improving their lot in life beyond the scope of their limited proto-imaginations. It should now be obvious to to all but the most recalcitrant among us that we’re all one creature, every living thing is a part of our global organism. Œcology itself is

Leana added, “At least our cousins from out-of-town are bound to be more interesting topics of conversation, and conversationalists, than the average houseguest.”

“And this is just another beginning,” Sa’aan continued, “Now that we know, really know, that other intelligent life exists right here on Earth, and countless examples somewhere in the universe, more strange than we can guess right now, maybe we can take our show on the road. We have the equatorial elevator and human colonies in space and on Mars, but there are other worlds out there, some of which undoubtedly contain burgeoning life which can be helped toward greater consciousness and power. The whales have taken on our nearest neighbors in this Solar System, so perhaps we should look further afield to pass on the whales’ gifts to us. We have technological capabilities that they will never have, despite their immense power and skill in genetic engineering. Next time, maybe we get to be the whales.”

Edith, ever-skeptical, said, “But doesn’t this all strain credulity a little? There’ve been so many unlikely coïncidences, such a long chain of unlikely causality, that it amazes me that we don’t disappear in a puff of smoke,

“Of course,” Sa’aan said agreeably, “but there’s nothing to prevent future intelligences — possibly created in part through our own actions, and/or that of the present day whales in their Triton and Jupiter projects — from acting as experimental ’pataphysicians to re-collapse the quantum wave function into a state in which runaway global warming and/or nuclear war doesn’t nearly destroy the Earth, or reset it to a state with more visible competing higher intelligences, a state into which we ourselves have collapsed, which resulted in the whales’ survival, and perhaps our own. We ourselves are Chimeræ now, among the current guardians of the continental interiors, new co-guardians of the deep, but the adjective, chimerical, once meant a wildly unlikely phantasm, the inhabitants of dreams, or nightmares. Once you’ve gotten past the extraördinary unlikelihood of a universe suitable for any life at all, a little local dea ex machina is really no trouble to manage. Based on what we knew at the start of this latest episode in Earth’s history, we were all of us doomed, and given the belligerent proclivities of the nation states in existence back then, I would have guessed that our long-term survival was highly unlikely, but here we are, alive and kicking, such stuff as dreams are made on.”

“And our little lives are rounded with a sleep.” Nakia smiled, “but eventually, we, whomever it is who dreams the collective dream that is our lives, rise again and go on.”

Sa’aan laughed, “You’re almost right. It’s an ‘invented’ idea coming out of the emerging Surrealist and Absurdist Movements at the beginning of the Twentieth Century. The French writer and playwright Alfred Jarry asserted that physical solutions were actually imaginary, and that the imagination created itself, symbolically by ‘attributing the properties of objects, described by their virtuality, to their lineaments,’ a prescient foreshadowing of Schrödinger’s famous exploration of the collapse of quantum superpositions.”

“Not really.” Sa’aan replied. “He used the idea of a cat in a famous thought experiment in which the completely imaginary cat lived or died through knowledge of the outcome of a quantum event, but described the cat’s condition as being neither alive nor dead before someone observed the outcome of the experiment. What Schrödinger failed to realize was that he himself was inside such a box, and all his colleagues as well, the outcome of which no one would know until their particular box was opened.”

“But if he was in a box, the people who eventually opened it might also be in a box, and so on. Where does it end?”

“More to the point, does it ever? ’Pataphysics essentially says that one can draw a virtual box anywhere, then open it, and see what happened in the past, however far back you want to go.”

“Open another, of course, and create a Universe more to your liking. In ’pataphysical theory, telling a story is an act of actual creation, creating the reality one describes by drawing a box around it. When someone, anyone, hears the story, the box is opened, and somewhere a world is born.”

Nakia chimed in, “ So old Omar Khayyam was right, ‘Ah, Love! could thou and I with Fate conspire….’ ”

Sa’aan continued, “ ‘…To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire, · Would not we shatter it to bits — and then · Re-mould it nearer to the Heart’s Desire!‘ Well, it turns out that we can.”

“As you like to say, exactly!” She chuffed again more forcefully, if that were possible.

“On the other hand,” Sa’aan argued, “he probably didn’t really believe in the reality of his own theory. Humans, especially original humans, had a remarkable ability to avoid thinking about the entirety of the systems they created, and avoided their logical consequences at all costs, since there’s no headache quite as painful as that resulting from stretching one’s brain. The universe and life are made for each other, since a universe without an observer is meaningless on the quantum level which underlies what looks like our physical reality, but this notion troubled theroretical astrophysicists and cosmologists for hundreds of years.”

Nakia responded, “Until the advent of Chimerism began to hint that physical reality was more amenable to the working of the mind than had there-to-fore been imagined.”

Sa’aan added, “And both physics and cosmology began seriously to grapple with the nature of our reality, and where we fit within it.”

“Jing-tsai, Mei-mei! So I can change my life just by thinking about it.” Leana was enthused by this idea.

Nakia laughed, saying, “It puts a whole new spin on Sa’aan’s quote from Émile Coué, ‘Every day, in every way, I’m getting better and better.’ ”

“And proves that the old saying, ‘Wishing won’t make it so,’ is really bad advice. Just think of all those wasted birthday cakes and falling stars we didn’t wish upon out of pure cynicism!” Leana was laughing non-stop by now.

Edith had been visibly growing more agitated during this merry interchange, and asked Sa’aan in a deeply suspicious tone, “Which brings us to the real question. Nothing you’ve said here really justifies this meeting, other perhaps than general bonhomie, so why are we here?”

“Because this is where I get off, Edith, vanish from the stage of history and become a very small part of the historical process which manifests itself in the audience, not the players, the deep current which lives beneath the restless surface. I’m handing in my resignation, retiring from public life for ‘personal reasons.’ ”

Edith was now growing more anxious than suspicious, “But what if we need your advice or help?”

Nakia smiled, “I imagine you would, Sa’aan. You had a rude awakening from childhood, whereby you were thrust into adult responsibilities without warning or time to prepare, and you’ve performed admirably, but it’s probably time we adults took on more of the burden. Edith, we have the all the resources we need, I think. Most of Sa’aan’s peculiar gifts have been widely spread, and we have global support now, and one global voice, if we choose to use it.”

“We may have that possibility,” Edith objected, “but there’s no legal framework….”

“…And whose fault is that?” Nakia shot back. “Do we expect Sa’aan and her little army of whales to stage a series of convenient putsches and take over every unfriendly world government for us? We’re the local government, at least, and I’d guess that we’re the ones ultimately responsible for working things out with other governments around the world to accommodate the new reality. That’s our job, not Sa’aan’s, and it’s not something we can accomplish in weeks, or even months, but we’re getting there. It’s going to take years, though. Should Sa’aan, our dear friend, put the rest of her young life on hold to make life easier for us? To provide political cover for a passel of cowardly bureaucrats and office-holders so they don’t have to pay any political price for doing what they simply must do for our survival? That’s the sort of short-sighted expediency that got us into this mess in the first place. We surely don’t need to carry forward the bad habits of the past. The cavalry showed up in time, we’re officialy rescued, and now it’s time for us to saddle up, hitch up, and get the wagons moving again.”

“Meaning, of course, no disrespect toward any First Nation…,” Edith said primly.

For a tense moment, none of them knew whether she was being serious or not, but then she laughed, and then Nakia laughed, and everyone relaxed.

Edith continued, “I’m sorry, Sa’aan. It was such a relief to have someone come along and be our Mum for a bit, it was quite comforting. But Nakia’s right of course. We’ve been grown up for a very long time, and it’s time we took back our mature responsibilities.”

Nakia added, “Sa’aan has been our Wendy for quite long enough, I think, and needs time to do what Wendies do, even in stories, become her own woman and take care of her own babies.” She added a private warm caress of thought to Sa’aan, wordlessly offering her support and friendship.

Sa’aan returned the private caress, “Thank you, Nakia. Those were my own thoughts as well.”

“But I told you all, that very first day. Did you think I’d changed my mind?” Sa’aan was honestly puzzled.

Nakia said, “Sa’aan, some of us just shoot off our mouths from time to time, then repent and make other plans the very next day. We don’t have too much experience with people who plan as thoroughly as you do, so please forgive us our flighty natures.”

“Of course I do. But I’ll say it again so there’s no mistake. Ishmael is my bashert, and more than that, my zivug. I fully intend to bear his children and make a family together with him.”

Edith said, “Sa’aan, forgive me, but I only vaguely know what bashert means, but haven’t a clue what a zivug might be.”

Leana jumped in with an explanation. “It’s pretty simple, Edith, zivug is a Hebrew word that means ‘partner’ or ‘soulmate,’ the one person in the world for you, where a bashert is just a destined mate, of whom there may be many, any one of whom you might learn to love quite dearly. With a zivug, you have no choice and no real alternative.”

“Thanks, Leana, and you, Edith, as well. I didn’t know that either, but was more willing to take a stab at it from context,” Nakia said.

Sa’aan apologized, “I should have explained right off, but there’s a technical distinction not easy to explain in English. Leana did a great job of it. I used the more restrictive word because it’s literally true. At this moment, there are no other orcas in the world compatible with either Ishmael or myself, and we both know this, because it became obvious when we were all merged in the overmind. Ishmael had suspected this, because the whales had found him and rejected him, yet were not cured, so he could easily extrapolate from the lack of change that he was unique. In retrospect, we now know that masculinity was incompatible with the full gift of the whales, so it couldn’t be expressed in that context until our collective genome was fully healed. So many of us died during transition, or even before, that it was moderately unlikely for our lives to overlap at all. I’ve fixed that, so there may be more of us in another twenty or thirty years, but that’s too long to wait. I can shorten the interval, however, through direct action.”

“I think I understand,” Leana said. “As a matriarchal culture, it may not have occurred to the whales that males could be agents of social change, so they didn’t allow for it in their calculations. It’s nice to know that they’re not omniscient, but only nearly so.”

Sa’aan responded with neither recrimination nor regret, “Well, of course they were right, in the short run. They were limited by their slow communication network, and their somewhat lesser skills in genetic manipulation. They couldn’t operate on themselves, but I can. It took the addition of my partly monkey brain to orca gestalt perceptions to bring the project to fruition. Until then, their ‘hands’ were tied, because their individual capacities were almost non-existent, despite being collectively immensely powerful. If it were simple, it would have been done long ago, since we now know they wanted this outcome, and had been planning for it for thousands of years.”

“Shur-ah, Mei-mei!” Leana enthused. “If we were so smart, why didn’t we do it on our own? It took both of us, or more properly, all three of us, the whales, the orcas, and the humans, all working together to succeed.”

Sa’aan added, “Indeed. The whales saw that this skill was needed, and possible, but couldn’t do it on their own. It would probably never have occurred to humans by themselves, since it wasn’t ‘their job,’ as far as they were concerned, and the orcas too had a narrower vision of their areas of responsibility. The whales were the only actors with both means and motive.”

“But you mentioned direct action, Sa’aan,” her mother observed. “Did that mean what I think it means?”

“It does, Mom. I’ve told you already that Ishmael is my intended. I’ve just ovulated, so it’s too late for this cycle, but I intend to become pregnant in the fairly near future.”

“Are you very sure, dearest?” There was a hesitant tone in her voice, but Sa’aan didn’t seem to notice.

“I am. I’ve left the larger stage, but fully desire to take up a smaller rôle, the same rôle you took up, and your mother before you. The only way that leads truly forward into our imagined future is to participate in it, and to pour our hearts and minds into the yearning for it. I can’t do that from the sidelines. Ishmael said it to me not too long ago. He told me that I carry the promise of the future within me, and that he was humbled by it, that all his strength and power was feeble by comparison. I’ve come to realize that he was right.”

Eileen smiled in memory, “Your father once said something like that to me, but I was pregnant with Leana at the time, and in labor as I recall.” She laughed softly at the memory, “He’s not quite as eloquent as your Ishmael, nor as openly vulnerable, but I think his feelings run as deep.”

“I know they are, Mom. I was like that too, before I changed. I still am, a little, both your daughter and his son, a fortuitous admixture of both.”

“Right now, yes. In orca reckoning, I’m an adult, but not so much in human terms. I’m enough my father’s daughter that I resent having to jump through paper hoops to claim my individual rights. And Dad will want to talk to him about conversion, you know he will, even though he knows it doesn’t really matter.”

“You’re right, but only in the larger sense, dear heart. It was never a religious thing with him, but a family obligation. He’s very involved in his family, as I’m sure you realize, so the smaller sense was what drove him to ask me if I’d mind.”

“I didn’t think so. Leana knows, but you and I never had that much time for mother-daughter conversations. Everything happened so suddenly, and then I was cut off from the easy interaction you had with your sister and your father.” She began to cry.

Sa’aan saw immediately that she’d overlooked something quite profound in her general habit of feeling smugly superior to the great mass of humanity, that her mother and sister had an emotional bond whose depth she was only now beginning to appreciate. Her sister’s ability to create impossible sounds, even whistles, with her mind had astonished her, until she’d finally realized that Leana had wanted that intimacy, that fluency of communication, in a way that she never had, and now here was another example, and it shamed her that she’d never noticed. So much for my supposed gift for recognizing patterns, she thought to herself. There was an entire world of emotional interplay and context that completely eluded me, in which I was as clueless as the ‘fools’ I felt superior to. She reached out with her mind and stroked her mother’s hair, simultaneously asking everyone but Ishmael and her family for a little privacy. “Don’t cry, Mommy. I’ve been an idiot, but I’m here now. I’ll always be just a thought away from you, now that we’ve all been fixed up to what we were meant to be all along.”

Eileen stirred restlessly, arched her head up toward the ceiling, then pulled herself together and smiled, snatching up a tea towel to dry her eyes before speaking, “I know, dear. This has all been very hard for me, first you almost died in transition, then both of you were shot, Leana carried off to the hospital, and just to make my day complete, murderers lying in wait to kill us all….” She looked up toward the ceiling again, trying to control herself, “I don’t know what I would have done if either of you had….”

For almost the first time since her transition, and certainly since she’d escaped her earthly bonds and felt the freedom of the sea, Sa’aan felt horribly deprived of the ground beneath her feet, and hands, and arms, the ghosts of which all ached to stand before her mother, to hold her close and be comforted in the warmth of her enclosing arms, “We’re both fine now, Mommy, and we love you very much. You know we’re both too tough to die.” She made do with a mental caress, but it wasn’t quite the same.

“She’s right, Mom, and both of us tougher than ever now. Just watch us go.” Leana added her mind’s caress, but ran to her side as well, supplementing her intangible love with physicality.

With poignant clarity, Sa’aan saw that her sister held herself to one side, allowing the virtual space Sa’aan yearned for to remain available, even if forever out of reach. After a moment, she spoke, “Leana, I know this probably sounds strange, but could you teach Mom to swim sometime soon?”

Leana turned towards her immediately, looking directly toward where she herself lay submerged, invisible, “Of course I will, and I quite understand. We’ll all learn. We’ll have a picnic, like we two did that first day, but with all of us together.”

“I’d like that, and eventually, Mom, we’ll have a wedding, I can promise that, but I want to see a tiny bit of the world first, the last of my boyhood dreams. I think I’ll leave the logistics to you, Leana, and to Mom, of course, since the arrangements for an underwater ceremony remind me too much of prime time ‘human interest’ vids and I didn’t grow up with the proper cultural referents.”

“I will. Ishmael will do whatever I ask, since it’s my pod he’s joining, even if there are only two people actively participating in it just now. On the other hand, this is a brave new world, so maybe Mom is the matriarch of our superpod, extending up into the air, and she can tell him what to do. Ishmael dear, would you mind converting to my father’s liberal version of Judaism? It’s not crazy or anything, just a kind of sense of humility before ineffable grandeur and a strong desire to do justice in the world. It would be an honor for him, and make me very proud.”

“And for me, daughter,” her father said, “It’s my future as well, or half of it.”

“And for you, Dad, for all of us. I’m rejoining the eternal braid of deep relationships where I’d once thought to stand apart. I see now that I’ve neglected some of my family obligations in my haste to attend to my own needs.”

“I know that, Mom. That’s why the whales were were in the pickle they were caught in for so many centuries.”

“Because we are their children, and we were destroying them, the primal dilemma. How does a parent say ‘No!’ to their own child?

Edith’s eyes widened, “The relationship of parents and their children seems dauntingly fraught, doesn’t it?”

“It does,” Sa’aan said. “I should have seen it from the start, since I knew that the Inuit, and other First Nations people with actual experience of whales, believed that a whale would give their body to a hungry tribe to prevent the death of its members, and these behaviors have been observed by outside investigators as well. For whom, other than a child, would a mother give her life? Ergo, the whales saw at least some humans as their children. A mother risks death for her children in pregnancy, and in the case of a son gives a year or more of her life for his regardless of the success of the pregnancy. Having a dependent child makes one vulnerable to many losses, which makes mothers hypersensitive and aware of any change or danger in their environment. But without taking those risks, those necessary losses, the future dies even more surely than it may through accident. Mothers have no real choice. They must act, they must preserve the future, even if it means their own deaths.”

They felt a heaviness in the air, the remembered presence of the Sins Sagaana, the swelling crescendo of the whale overmind:

“You are our beloved children, in whom we are well pleased, especially because you’ve all turned out so nicely.”

No words were possible, only meaning, as their own individualities were drawn into their larger overmind.

With a sudden rush, we felt ourselves lifted from the surface of the earth, expanding out and out into the abyss, until we felt another consciousness, another mind, cloaked in glory, surrounded by vast darkness. Realization flooded in, as we realized that this being’s body was an entire galaxy, or perhaps a group of galaxies, or perhaps the Universe itself, its individual components circling countless stars, its perception, focused through so large a lens that it was capable of perceiving the very edge of space and the farthest reach of time, its consciousness proceeding as a standing wave within the rhythmic breathing of its observations, backward, forward, up, down, in, out, cycling in and out in all directions, able to remember both the past and the future, able to act in either temporal direction or into quantum fluctuations, and we were part of it, completing it with our individual gifts of perception and emotion, all incredibly valuable to the totality of this being’s consciousness, an integral part of its expanding possibilities, its contracting certainties, boundlessly compassionate and dispassionate all at once, combined chaos and perfect order, our grandmother. SHE looked at us and said:

The sound was immensely powerful, too faint to hear, filled with every possible meaning, yet devoid of overt context, alive with every possibility and hope, the sound a seashell makes when held to the ear, roaring like a lion, a mosquito’s irritating whine, the eruption of a volcano, the utter silence of the Antarctic ice-free valleys, a cantor’s recitation, a baby’s first breath and cry, a wolf howling at the moon, the entirety of every holy book, scrawled graffiti on a broken wall, the sound of the celestial chorus in a pæan of rejoicing, the music of the spheres, a funeral dirge. We were deafened and made more sensitive thereby.

For an instant, we were filled with boundless love, our vast heart swelling until it overflowed with love for all living things, expanding without limit as it filled and was the Universe itself, and everywhere we looked was our love made visible, and love was at the heart of everything.

And then we fell back to Earth, plummeted down through the streaming stars, and plunged back into time.

“We thought you might like a memory of our mother, for sentimental reasons.”

This time, Sa’aan seemed to be the only one immediately coherent enough to respond, “Thank you. It explains a lot.”

“You’re very welcome, dear, and please do drop us a line from time to time. We like hearing about your adventures.”

“Well, yes. You don’t have to say anything, and you don’t have to do anything. Not a thing. Oh, maybe just whistle. You know how to whistle, don’t you, Sa’aan? You just put your lips together and… blow.

Sa’aan began to laugh, and then laughed some more, finally controlling herself enough to whistle the theme from the old Groucho Marx show, “Was that OK?” She felt quite proud of herself, as she’d done almost as well as Leana did.

“Well,” Nakia said wearily, “At least I don’t have a headache this time.”

Leana purred, “I like them a lot. When I grow up, I want to do something like their job for a living.”

“I don’t see why not,” Sa’aan said. “I’m not sure I’d want to meet her, though. Grandmama is quite enough for me.”

“And speaking of families,” Sa’aan’s mother said, “After thinking it over, especially after meeting the whales and their ancient mentor unmediated by distance and relay through Leana, I understand the strains you’ve been subjected to, and your need to go on a little walkabout. It’s quite alright. We’ll have some private time alone when you return from your journey, and then we’ll talk.”

“We’ll talk whenever you want, Mom, and go on a little swimming picnic when we get back. I want to spend more time with you, and we have a lot of catching up to do.”

Sa’aan agreed, “I’m not worried either, in this best of all possible worlds. What could possibly go wrong?”

“Nothing we can’t handle, Mei-mei,” Leana growled, her voice lowered by emotion. “Take care.”

“I won’t be long, Leana. Ishmael said something to me the other day, that I was the end of every journey for him, and I’ve just recently realized that this place is my real home, not because I’ve ever been inside the rooms, or slept here, but because you’re here, Leana, and you, Mom, and you, Dad. I’ve always been a little estranged from the kids at school, different, maybe even alien. After a while here in Canada, I was starting to feel as if I were completely a creature of the sea, as if the land itself were alien and strange. But now I’ve realized that it was me, that I had been cut off from everyone because of the gift the whales needed, or the world needed, and was still cutting myself off from almost everything I loved, would have loved better if I’d been able, because I felt like everything had been stolen from me, my former life, my teachers, the things I’d collected which had no meaning now, because I’d never be able to touch them again.”

Sa’aan interrupted, “But it wasn’t meant to be that way at all, Mom. Dad gave up his post at school in a heartbeat, you all gave up everything you were familiar with. The same things I thought had been taken from me, you all gave up willingly, for me. I couldn’t cope with the interruption of my routine. I’ve been a pill, with the thin excuse of trauma and then trying to prevent the end of the world. We’ve all healed the world together, but now I need to heal myself. With Ishmael’s help, perhaps we can heal each other, since we were both broken-hearted for the same reason, because the whales needed us to be broken in exactly the way we were, so that we could jointly heal the whales.”

She paused, to let this sink in, and then continued, “We know how to heal ourselves now, or at least point ourselves in the right direction, and we don’t need to have borderline

Her mother responded first, walking up to her mobile and touching the upper surface as if it were her actual head, “I know, Sweetheart, that’s why I told you to go, even though I wanted you to stay. We’ve all been selfish, even though we started out with wonderfully generous impulses, in letting you take on so many burdens without protest on our part, or any serious attempt to help. It was only partly because of our inadequacy. Edith captured the heart of the matter when she said that it was comforting to have someone be our Mum for a while, but we grew up once, and shouldn’t have too much trouble doing it again.”

“It wasn’t too much trouble, Mommy. I was glad to do it. It had to be done. It’s what I was designed to do, so I can hardly complain. If it weren’t for that need, I wouldn’t have been born at all.”

Leana chuffed, “That’s way too metaphysical for me. So you took one for the side. You’re recovering. You’ll be better sometime soon. Stuff happens to us all. Here we are dragging out your big exit scene with tearful farewells and pæans of praise when we should just let you get on with your adventure. You missed your summer vacation, so it’s time you had a little fun before deciding what to do with the rest of your life. If you dawdle any longer I’ll have to start singing ‘So Long, Farewell’ from The Sound of Music and we’ll all start crying.”

“Anything but that,” Sa’aan exclaimed, laughing. “I’m going, I go, look how I go, swifter than arrow from Tartar’s bow.” She added a little darting dance by her mobile, just for emphasis, and had the speech down well enough that everyone laughed, and so lightened a maudlin moment with her sister’s help.

“You’re the best, Mei-mei. See you soon, and you’d better tell me everything you get into along the way.”

“I will. I promise. I’ll turn on BioLync tracking so you can follow my journey if you like, for all of you.”

After a general round of farewells and good wishes, Sa’aan said to all, “Goodbye, everyone, I love you all.”

Ishmael spoke for the first time, content as usual to let the women lead, “Are you ready,

“Oddly enough, I’ve a great notion to swim in warm tropic waters as well.”

Before they abandoned the mobiles, Sa’aan directed them to put themselves away in their garage, and then severed her physical connection to the land, if only for a little while, replacing it with a mental link that could be remade at will.

For the benefit of all, Sa’aan concluded her mother’s quote from Brecht and Weill, Pirate Jenny’s song of liberation, »Und das Schiff mit acht Segeln · Und mit fünfzig Kanonen · Wird entschwinden mit mir.«

Ishmael translated, “And the ship, with eight sails, · and with fifty great guns, · and with me right on board, · will just slip out to sea.”

And as they slipped beneath the waves, course set toward a place of birth,

See. I am establishing my covenant with you and your descendants after you and with every living creature that was with you: all the birds, and the various tame and wild animals that were with you and came out of the ark.

Take care not to ruin and destroy my world, for if you corrupt it there shall be none to come after you and repair it.

The image depicts the North Pacific on a cloudy day, the open sea off the coast of Canada in the Northeast Pacific, somewhat south of the Gulf of Alaska. The light is sombre, even foreboding, on an overcast afternoon looking toward the sun, which is completely obscured by clouds, although we can see a brightening where the sun lies hidden. In the distance, the horizon is shrouded in deep blue-grey darkness, fading almost to black, but there are bright patches of open water in the foreground, so there must be breaks in the clouds above us, if only we looked up.]" title="The image shows the open sea off the coast of Canada in the Northeast Pacific, somewhat south of the Gulf of Alaska. The light is sombre, even foreboding, on an overcast afternoon looking toward the sun, which is completely obscured by clouds, although we can see a brightening where the sun lies hidden. In the distance, the horizon is shrouded in deep blue-grey darkness, fading almost to black, but there are bright patches of open water in the foreground, so there must be breaks in the clouds above us, if only we looked up.