Once on open water, Kunda Mebenga spun the cruiser's powerful twin engines until they sang a high B-flat note. Fairport Strait was still calm from the night before and the ship loped over the water like a hungry predator. Telling the ship to take over, Kunda headed below, leaving Lucas alone on the bridge. He gazed about, amazed that a boat could have so many gauges, readouts, and screens. The main console gave the status of everything aboard, the seascape of the ocean floor, and position of every ship within twenty kilometers. The most curious monitor showed a speeding grid representing the surface. It showed compass deviations, countdown odometers, and ever-changing position readings to some pre-programmed location. Along the walls were state-of-the-art chart displays and communication rigs. A quick glance at their registry book showed harbour licenses from around the globe, all issued within the last five years. Kunda was soon back, expertly pitching an ice-cold beer to his brother lounging on the rear deck.

"Alcohol before a dive?" Lucas said, relinquishing the captain's chair.

"No harm in this pombe." He said, popping the lid with a thumbclaw and taking a long draw, "It's commercial corn brew. You'll get more of a buzz from mouthwash but it is cold and wet." Lucas opened the colourful can with the indecipherable writing and swallowed a mouthful. His ears flipped at the taste.

"Goddess! That's...that's..."

"Not too limp for you?" Kunda smirked.

"It's like creamed corn cut with tonic water!"

"Yeah. Its not like that caramel water everyone swigs." He said, finishing the can and crushing it into a ball, "Wait until the trip back. That's when we pull out the real shibeen brew. We're almost there. Head down and give me brother a hand with the rig." Lucas nodded, stepping outside into the wind. It was amazing that a ship that large could move so quickly and quietly. He tried another sip, grimaced, and poured the remaining beer into the foam. Descending the steep, narrow staircase was a revelation. From the outside, the ship looked like an exorbitant trophy boat, a floating luxury hotel for the idle rich. Below decks, it was far more utilitarian and cramped. The walls were painted white, the industrial carpets were self-cleaning, the lighting flush-fitting and brilliant.

"In here." A voice said. Lucas eased down the passageway, into the room he had first spied through the porthole. One wall was covered with racks of air tanks while the other was a bank of auto-locking cabinets and drawers. Kasuka stood naked, methodically checking an array of stainless-steel hoses and regulators. Glancing up at a monitor displaying the speeding grid readout, he strapped a chronometer onto his wrist.

"This was our sire's watch. Hasn't worked in years. Wouldn't where I'm going."

"Then why wear it?"

"He was a diver too. Taught us everything about the business. Mother wasn't thrilled when he started letting us join him. Too dangerous, she's warned, but he was always careful. Whenever a client wanted a job rushed, he'd tell them it's my life you're risking, we'll do it my way. Got a reputation for being the best." Kusuka said, "During a job at some Goddess-forsaken outport, the local supplier put too much oxygen into his tank mixture. Beyond three atmospheres, oxygen is poisonous. He was wearing this when they finally brought his body up. Since then, the first of us down on every job wears it. Its like having him with us." He paused as the engine changed to a lush burbling drone. Lucas felt the ship settle then slowly turn in the rocking backwash. Kusuka glanced up to an overhead monitor.

"Sue, display radar." The monitor instantly showed they were southwest of the Sealsand islands, almost dead center in the Fairport Basin.

"Trick!"

"Yeah, took a lot of developmental work but every control and electronic system on the ship is voice-activated. I can be sitting in a shibeen, call her up, and have her run a full-system diagnostic on the engines by simply asking." Kusuka said, "Makes 'Sue' seem like a real person."

"Which set do you want?" Lucas asked, scanning the wall of tanks. The canid glanced back at him and smirked.

"Ever done any deep diving?"

"Last year, I sunk our runabout in the inlet. Moma hired a diver to bring it up. I helped out, using his tanks. Beyond that, just a lot of snorkeling."

"Except for the twenty meter trench running up the middle of your harbour, most of it is four meters deep. Fine for scuba gear but not out here. The deepest that scuba can be pushed is 145 meters. Hydrogen-helium mixtures, like hydreliox, allow you to go a lot deeper but it isn't worth the decompression time. For ten minutes on the bottom, you'd spend a day working your way topside in stages. Below a hundred meters, the water is just too cold to survive that long."

"How deep can silkies go?"

"They won't say but we've never been able to track them below 300 meters. Personally, because they can collapse their lungs, I suspect a lot deeper." The engines suddenly died, the silence taken over by a chorus of smaller electric motors. "The ship has positioning props built into the bow and stern. They'll keep us within five meters of this location using GPS satellites."

"Wow, this is quite a boat! Must have cost a bundle!"

"Its a living." He shrugged.

"How deep is it here?" Lucas asked.

"Sue, display depth. Exactly 664 meters. Almost two-thirds of a kilometer down. And that's where I'm going." He said, matter-of-factly.

"How?"

"Using a PFC unit." He said, indicating the two spacesuits, "Give me a hand getting it on. First comes the temperature suit." Kunda came in as Lucas was showed how to unzip the delicate bodysuit with its kilometers of fine tubing. Together, they helped Kusuka into it, dressing him like a foppish groom. Once the gloves and boots were snuggly cinched, they strapped the oversized controls on each forearm. Up close, Lucas noticed one of them was a keyboard.

"What is this for?" he asked.

"When I'm down, I use perfluorocarbon bromide with a tripropylamine emulsifier." Kusuka said.

"Huh?"

"This is a liquid-breathing rig. When active, there can't be any air in his larynx so he types his messages to us." Kanda went on, sorting the control leads and suit tubing, "To keep your head up, the replies are displayed on the inside of the helmet visor. Careful, this is the heavy part." He guided his brother backward into the frame supporting the backpack. While Kanda plugged everything in, Lucas tightened the buckles. The final act was to fit and lock down the bubble helmet with its powerful lights and camera.

"Ready?" Kanda asked.

"Purge me." He shouted. The backpack came to life, filling the helmet with a swirl of oily pink fluid. It washed over Kusuka's prick ears, gathering up the air inside the helmet. Kanda gestured to Lucas not to move at the moment when his brother began to drown. The canid instinctively struggled, air belching from his working jaws, then he calmed and flashed a broad grin.

"Incredible."

"Take's some getting used to. Perfluorocarbon carries three times the oxygen that air or blood does but, like all liquids, can't be compressed. No chance that it will go poisonous or that his chest will collapse." Kanda said as his brother emptied his lungs, "The problem is that the PFC is thicker than air and harder to breathe. After three hours, you're exhausted."

"Doesn't it hurt?" Kusuka, still grinning, tapped out a reply. Kanda adjusted one of the overhead monitors to show his words.
 
 

NOT AT ALL
ACTUALLY LUNGS WORK BETTER AFTER
 
 

"He's right. The emulsifier boosts our absorption factor. For a week afterwards, we could hike the length of the Sky Pillars Range and never gasp." Kunda said, strapping a trio of rubber covered batons onto his brother's backpack, "You ready?" Kusuka nodded and straightened his knees, unhooking the backpack from the frame. He staggered a bit then began a slow walk towards the stern. They followed, helping him squeeze through a self-sealing hatchway. When Lucas entered, he stopped in amazement.

Between the forequarters and the engines, the "Sue DeNym" was a long room rigged with overhead monitors and an I-beam hoist. The bulkheads were covered with high-tech sensors and computer processors. The water-tight decking overhead was removable, allowing something the size of the family car to be dropped down. The floor was perforated deck plating, through which, Lucas saw a series of hydraulic rams. As if to answer his questions, Kunda threw a switch beside the hatchway. The hydraulics clunked to life, opening the bottom of the room to the turquoise sea with majestic slowness. He picked up a remote control, deftly bringing the I-bean hoist to life. As the translucent water surged below, the hoist carried a long, canvas-wrapped torpedo into the middle of the room. It dangled from a cable looped through a pulley mounted on the I-beam then to a huge winch. Whipping the covering off the torpedo, Kunda lowered it carefully into the water until the gleaming cylinder hung just below the surface.

"Grab a boat hook and pull that cable closer. Careful your grip doesn't slip." Kunda ordered. Lucas moved smartly, hauling the taunt line into Kusuka's reach. Despite the PFC unit's weight, he winked at Lucas and stepped out, snagging the cable with his legs. At the same instant, Kunda unlocked the hoist's brakes. His brother and the torpedo vanished with a splash, replaced by a wavering cable whining through the dancing pulley. To Lucas, it seem to spool off the hoist for an eternity.

"See that headset rig beside the hatch?" the canid asked, his eyes never flickering from the snaking cable.

"Of course."

"Put it on. You're the dedicated communication with my brother. Tell him he's approaching two hundred meters. Sue, display PFC exchanges on monitor two and three, and the video feed on four." Lucas obeyed, speaking slowly and clearly, his words automatically transcribed in the overhead monitors. Kusuka's reply came seconds later.
 
 

UNDERSTOOD
ALL WELL
 
 

"Approaching three hundred meters." Lucas relayed it, breaking into a sweat at the strange tension in the room.

"Four hundred."

"Is he free falling all the way to the bottom?"

"Shut up. Five hundred."
 
 

ALL STILL WELL
 
 

"Six hundred." Kunda announced. The brakes eased on, slowing the spinning spool to a gentle halt. "Sue, display 3D sidescan of the sea floor." The ship seemed to be floating amidst a ring of mountains whose slopes formed a precipitous pit.

"There's my brother." Kunda said in hushed words, his claw indicating a blip deep into that terrible gulf.

"What happens now?"

"That." The blip split, one half remaining stationary, the other falling further into the chasm.

"He let go!" Lucas exclaimed. The canid simply nodded.

"Keep talking to him. He's under 65 atmospheres and growing. Almost half a kiloton per square centimeter."

"Goddess. What do I say?"

"Ask him something." Kunda said, frantically typing into the bulkhead-mounted computer. The monitor displays flickered and coloured as he fine-tuned the readouts.

"Alright. How-is-it-down-there?"

"Could have thought of a better one than that." Kunda frowned.
 
 

VERY COLD
NO LIGHT
PRESSURE OK
HOW IS K DOING
 
 

"Tell him to start braking. He's thirty meters from the bottom. Should reach it in ten seconds." Kunda said, preoccupied, "Sue, run probe search three-X." The readouts exploded, showing multiple 3D scans in a riot of colours. The sea floor was divided into segments, every object and peak labeled with code. One by one, each segment faded to clear until there was only one left. The display enlarged until it a flat pie-wedge of sea floor glowed a florescent red. Around the blue dot that was Kasuka Mebenga gently settling on the bottom were a dozen code groups. One marker 50 meters to the northwest flashed green for an instant. "Sue, display encryption transmitter." A keypad appeared on the nearest monitor, Kunda tapping in a number. After a tense pause, the marker began flashing white, the other monitors filling with long strings of nonsense code. For the first time, Lucas saw the canid break into a toothy leer. "Tell my brother..."

A splash sounded behind them. They glanced backwards as a slim, tawny figure surfaced through the hull opening. She effortlessly pulled herself out of the water and sat on the edge of the deck plating. Carefully, Asali eased the airtanks from her shoulders and pushed the diving mask between her compact ears.

"Hello, Lucas. Hujambo, Kunda? Glad to see everyone busy." She grinned, reaming the salt water from her tail, "And just what do you want to tell your brother, Mr. Kunda?"

"Sijambo, Asali. We found it. The signal is weak but unfluctuating." The canid's cold grin broadened.

"Then we're all very, very lucky." she laughed, her velvet purr echoing in the metal-covered room. Lucas felt an uneasy fear at Asali's sudden appearance from nowhere, at their obvious dark glee. He felt like a civic stumbling into a pack of fauves looking for a new amusement.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Sylvia heard a gentle rapping, so high-pitched as to be musical. She glanced up from her accounting software to see Geoffrey standing in the middle of her reception area. The khaki suit was washed, pressed, and set off with a colourful ascot. In his hands, he gripped the shoulder straps of a picnic hamper that guests could borrow. The tapping was his sweeping horns knocking the room's ceiling beams.

"You've been hard at work all morning. All your staff have said so and its only Saturday so your accounts don't have to be in the bank today. How about treating yourself to a picnic?" he said, "Your chef has filled this with your purported favourites and it would be a shame for them to go to waste." He paused, forcing her to fill the silence. Sylvia finally broke into a broad grin.

"'Ta hell." She said, tossing her scriber aside, "You, Mr. Greentree, could be addictive."

"Your humble servant only aims to please. Where on this island would you like to go."

"Depends. You prefer glade or a view?"

"The view. Do you have one offering the Fairport Straits?"

"Wait until you see it. Let me just grab a shirt."

During their stay, almost every guest decides to explore Freedom's Run's ravishing landscape. Over the two centuries that the Slipsunders have owned the Island, dozens of trails were cut from the tropical forest. Today, they are well marked and mapped, with bridges, stairs and cleared walkways. For the adventurous, there are still trails that challenge the most hardy and Sylvia was soon toiling up one of these.

"Good heavens, does it get much steeper?" Geoffrey asked.

"Almost vertical in places." She said, stopping to gaze down on him as he picked his way through the footholds. "You should have seen it when I was a youngster. More primitive as you could imagine. My father worried every time I want climbing up here but tried not to show it."

"I can imagine." He said, pulling himself up to the landing.

"He was very wise. Had he forbidden me to come up here, I would have gone out of youthful rebellion. Instead, I climbed this ridge in stages, learning every nook and hidden beauty up here." Catching his breath, Geoffrey looked east from where they had come over the past hour. The lush greens and blues of WaterWings and the Inlet were spread before them like a glorious vision.

"Goddess, its beautiful up here." He whispered, "I'd not realized how high we'd climbed."

"You've not finished yet but the way is more clearly marked from here on." She said, gesturing to the ridge above them, the black rocks bare of foliage due to the westerly breezes. "We never developed the middle section because there are some parts of the Island meant only for family." Tying her shirttail into a knot, she strode on, the freshening winds catching her long ears and rippling her auburn pelt. Geoffrey watched her closely, placing his feet in her pawprints. The palms and scrub brush fell behind as the earth grew devoid of soil. Soon, the path was a twisting crevasse between two towering outcroppings. Sylvia climbed carefully, knowing how the whistling breeze could erupt full force at any moment. Geoffrey struggled behind, head down, his khaki rippling as he pushed onward and upward.

"Were here." Sylvia suddenly said. He looked up, the wind catching his breath away. She grinned back at him, her fur wild, as the world spread behind her in a profusion of azure blues and emerald greens. Fairport Strait shimmered in the sun, a liquid tapestry in a thousand shades of turquoise. Over its surface, clouds slowly moved like grazing cows. Only the wind gave any hint of time passing.

"Its...Its beyond description." He said, awed.

"To the southwest is Fairport Island. You can just see the town cradled in that cove." She said, pointing, "Northwest is Venture's Island. Originally, it was ours until an ancestor lost it through bad investments. That's Venturesville resort on the nearest tip. The ridge we're standing on and those two islands are all that's left of a huge volcano. The caldera collapsed during an eruption 3200 years ago and the sea flooded in, turning the molten lava to stone and sealing the vent. However, the pressure kept building and one night, it blew. Ripped apart the entire mountain and parts of the seafloor. Scientists say it was the most massive natural explosion since the dinosaurs vanished."

"One night, eh?"

"That's right. There is a dated stele in Borealia West recording a tidal wave and earthquake coming from this direction. Goddess knows what it must have looked like on this side of the world. Archaeologists found traces of three civilizations wiped out in the Islands and Undernia. Everything around here for a thousand kilometers was obliterated by a hundred meter tidal wave. Anyone who saw or hear the blast didn't survive." Geoffrey measured the circumference of the crater with his eyes and shook his head.

"Unimaginable. I wouldn't have imagined this beauty being capable of such violence."

"Come on. There is an overhang below us where we'll be out of the wind and can eat in peace." Sylvia lead him down the slope. At a turn in the path, a broad cave opened before them. In the shelter, traces of firepits scarred the floor while frying pans and mirrors hung from impromptu shelves. Further in, the floor had been leveled into a series of sleeping platforms.

"Did someone once live up here?"

"Everyone in the family when they were children. Eight generations of Slipsunders have camped here, told ghost stories, and played Ruler of the World. During the war, my people hid here or in the hills on Venture's Island during the bombardments. My greatgrand parents had a front-row seat for the Battle of Deepwater Sound on the windward side of Fairport Island. Their description of men and ships getting blown to shreads never seem to capture the 'glory' of war. Otherwise, this place is too open and dry to stay for long but we've always returned." She said, rubbing her left ear wistfully, "You might say this place is a family heirloom."

"Well then, would your ancestors mind if we sit down and have lunch?" Opening the hamper, he pulled out a large red blanket, snapped it into the air, and spread it out on the ground. Translucent containers of fried chicken, ham with pineapple glaze, shaved rare roast beef, pickles, savory chutneys, flatbreads, and sliced fruits appeared like magician's props. The final touch was two glasses and a chilled fall-harvest rosé. The look of bright-eyed innocence on his long face as he waved the wine made her laugh out loud.

It was a good afternoon. The first in a long time. They ate and talked like teenagers without a thought that this would not last forever. He told her of a childhood as a military brat, of his travels alone, about growing up on his wits in a dozen cities, of adventures and near scrapes worthy of the movies. She told him of her family, the unforgettable characters populating the Happenstance Archipelago, the days of sun-ripened joy, and the dark terrors when decades of work were swept away in a single storm.

She did not know when the moment came. That it had happened, she never doubted. She had felt it many times before, with the fathers of her children, with her other lovers. That instant when loneliness is suddenly swept away and the soul experiences life in glowing colours. Afterward, she could blame the wine or the simply being alone with a handsome male. Maybe it was the gentle touch of his hands encircling her waist, the pressure of his shoulder against her's. She knew excuses were for fools. When he leaned close, cradling her head in his fingers, and pressed his long muzzle to hers, words and logic vanished. Their need was so powerful that nothing on Therion could deny it. Cupping her hands behind his head, they kissed until they sprawled in the tablecloth, drowning in each other's scent. His hands found the knot of her shirt across her belly and pulled it open. The fabric billowed, allowing him to hold and kneld her firming breasts. She broke with a gasp and hunched over him, gripping his sweeping horns.

"Not bad but you're going to have to do better." She growled in his ear. Skillfully, she opened his shorts with one hand and dug deep. His hardness was as tall and lean as he was but Sylvia did not care. He was her's and she needed him. She pulled loose her skirt and straddled him. With a deep animal grunt, he let himself be taken into her warmth. Sylvia leaned back, grinning, ridding him with a long, yearning rhythm.

"You've done this before." He gasped, "Goddess, you're... you're..."

"After six kids, I may not be tight but I've got the moves." She did. Geoffrey strained under her, digging his heels into the hardpacked dirt. Trapped, he was a willing prisoner to her every surge and delay. Time stopped before such sweet ecstasy. Over him, Sylvia ignited in orgasm. Their ultimate climax was a mutual rush of desire, culminating in a blinding, shuddering zenith. Dripping sweat, Sylvia collapsed dazed into his arms.

"Hold me," she breathed, deliciously "just hold me."

"Forever, if you need." He sighed.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Asali fitted Lucas' headset over her ears, shielding the mouthpiece from the whine of hoist as Kunda hauled up the sensor torpedo. On an overhead monitor was the video feed from Kusuka's camera. With an elephant-like sway, he walked in abject blackness, the powerful lights barely illuminating the barren brownish-grey bottom.

"Kusuka, Asali here."
 
 

HELLO
U COME WITH OUR FRIEND
 
 

"Yes. He was most accommodating. He said to tell you 'good fishing all around'."
 
 

SO ALL WELL
 
 

"Everything is fine up here. How are you doing?"
 
 

GOOD
LITTLE CURRENT
WATER CLEAR
 
 

"Can you see it? Kunda says it should be twenty meters ahead and slightly to the left." The monitor show a slight change in direction. Suddenly, something flitted across the screen.

"What was that?" Lucas jumped.
 
 

SKATEFISH
HARMLESS
AM NOT ONLY 1 DOWN HERE
 
 

Moments later, something loomed into the edge of the lights. A flat reinforced case in black plastic. The size of a large atlas, it was lightly dusted with sediment from recently hitting the sea floor. Kusuka crouched, carefully picking it up and swishing away the loess.
 
 

CASE SEEMS INTACT
AIR STILL INSIDE
U WANT 2 TALK 2 IT
 
 

"Later. Let's get you back here first."
 
 

UNDERSTOOD
 
 

In the monitor, Kusuka gave a final sweep of his gloved hand over the ribbed case then laid it back on the bottom again. He placed a small winking cube in top then stepped backwards away from it.
 
 

WE READY FOR RETURN
 
 

Asali looked up to Kunda who peered intently at the hoist's counter and the overhead sonar reading.

"Tell my brother to come on up. I'm spooling in the last twenty meters." The hoist motor slowed to a soft growl. With practiced ease, it almost had stopped when the long torpedo rose dripping from the turquoise wash.

"All clear." She relayed. In the camera monitor, Lucas saw Kusuka pull one of the rubber-covered batons off his backpack and clip the lanyard on one end to a chest ring. Leaning backwards, he yanked at the lanyard. With a burst, the rubber sheath unfolded into a balloon and soared upward, the canid following. In the sonar readout, his blip began rapidly rising from of that terrible depth.

"I don't get it." Lucas said.

"Don't get what?" Asali said, toweling the salt water from her golden pelt.

"Why he didn't get it?"

"What didn't he what?"

"Whatever he was to get?"

"What was it he was to get that he hasn't got?" she asked, cocking her head.

"All of it! He, it, why - I don't get it!" Lucas said, going crimson with frustration under his black-and-white colouring. A smile crept across the lioness's best poker face.

"Simple. It isn't time yet."

"Kusuka dropped over half a kilometer to the bottom of the sea. We're following his every move on a ship with more electronics than is in Fairport. If he isn't bringing back whatever is down there, why did he risk going in the first place?"

"You'll see in just a second." She replied, "Kunda, are you alright down here alone? Otherwise, we'll watch for where Kusuka surfaces."

"Go ahead." He said, rolling the torpedo back into its protective cradle, "Grab the binoculars from the knee locker nearest the flying bridge binnacle."

"I'll get them." Lucas said, dashing for the steep ship's stairs. On deck, he climbed the ladder to the upper controls, swaying in the freshening breeze. Under the engine controls, a self-locking locker door opened onto four drawers. The top one held an expensive mag-viewer. Lucas was still on one knee when a swell hit the ship at a cross angle. In the flying bridge, the effect was magnified and he lurched onto his rump. It was then that he saw the sawed-off shotgun with a pistol grip fitted under the console.

In seventeen years on the water, he had only known pirates to carry guns in their wheelhouses. He looked down as Major "Asali" Mbaya stepped onto the rear deck and slinked towards the stern. He remembered the Worldnet photograph of her in commando gear, carrying more firepower than the Happenstance Defense Force owned, and standing over a smoldering corpse. The submarine that suddenly surfaced in their inlet to pick her up. The bloodlust in her yellow eyes when she turned around at their skeet shooting range, a smoking .45 caliber automatic in each fist, constellations of spent shells around her clawed feet. Lucas started to get a very bad feeling.

"Lucas, did you find them?" Asali called, looking up at him.

"Yeah," he recovering and holding the mag-viewer aloft, "right here." He slung it around his neck and slid down the ladder. "How long will it take Kusuka to surface?"

"I'm not sure." She said lightly. Taking the mag-viewer, she switched it on with a thumbclaw and gave the sea a quick scan before focussing on Freedom's Run Ridge to the east. "One of the reasons why we're not bringing that object up is that we're too visible. Anyone up there could be watching our every move or monitoring our communication traffic. Don't you have a couple of lookouts up in those hills?"

"Yes but they're pretty inaccessible."

"They also show up nicely on satellite imaging. With the right kind of persuasion, somebody could be guided up there."

"Only my family knows the way." Asali lowered the glasses and flashed her fangs in a broad grin.

"Exactly."

"He should surface in ten minutes." Kunda said as he came out of the hatchway, "The ship will maneuver to keep us close. Meanwhile, I'll see if we've got contact."

"Good." Asali said, still examining the ridge.

"Lucas, head down and get a couple beers from the galley to change the taste in his mouth. It's forward on the starboard side."

"Sure thing." He said. Once below, he had to work fast. He found the snug, functional galley and dining nook, grabbing three Lionheart beers from the oversized refrigerator. The bottom shelves held four wide storage containers. Peeling up one lid, he found each flat tub held enough salmon fillets to feed three people for a month.

"These guys are really into vitamin D." Lucas muttered, snapping the lid tight again. Stepping towards the bow, he quickly worked his way backward by checking each door. Kunda had the shipshape captain's bedroom in the prow while his brother's smaller cabin was covered with family pictures. One large image showed a strapping canid with a patchwork pelt in a hard hat diving outfit while another displayed him with two equally colourful twin pups. Near Kusuka's bunk, a small black-and-white print showed a young Asali flanked by the pair in their teenage years. Naked, sweaty, and covered in blood and dust, the trio stood around a freshly killed wildebeest. They had run down and killed it using their claws and fangs.

The remaining doors hid supplies, marine equipment, engine parts, and medical equipment, including a large gun locker. The room across from the diving storage area was the one that surprized him. Fitted into the tight space was a clear, plastic coffin filled with salt water. Large tubes ran from several fittings to a series of pumps wired to a complex, electronic control. Each pump had a T-fitting with a smaller line running to a set of oxygen tanks lashed to the bulkhead. The coffin could not withstand much internal pressure so it was not a decompression chamber. Rather, it looked like a vampire's expensively rigged Jacuzzi.

"Weirder and weirder." Lucas muttered as he ran upstairs with the beer. He found Asali and Kunda in the wheelhouse. The canid was at the controls, watching his brother's accent on the sonar monitor while the ship maneuvered. The lioness sat wearing the headset, bare feet on the teakwood console, her tufted tail flicking.

"Kusuka, is everything still going well?" His reply displayed on an overhead monitor.
 
 

EVERYTHING GOOD
ENJOYING RIDE
HAVE U CONTACTED ICARUS
 
 

"Just about to. Sue, establish communication with the Icarus transceiver." A quick flurry of code flourished on the monitor.

"Contact with Icarus transceiver established." An electronically-generated voice said.

"I wish to converse with the entity within known as 'Icarus B'." Asali replied in a commanding tone.

"The password must be presented first."

"Aliamka asubuhi katika shauku kubwa." She said in Nyumbian.

"The password is corrected." Gone was the electronic voice, replaced by that of a cunning child.

"Is this the 'Icarus B'?"

"Correct. What may I do for you?"

"You are in an inaccessible but stable place. This is to ensure your safety. Have you recently run a diagnostic test on yourself."

"I have just done so and still have total internal integrity. Is there a project you wish me to work on or shall I continue my regular duties?"

"Negative on both options. You are being transported to a new operational situation and will soon have new duties. These are outlined in the file 'Lies From Within'. Please access this file now."

"'Lies From Within' has been accessed. I am capable of its instructions without changing my current configuration."

"Good. Until then, you are ordered to resume sleeping until contacted again. When this happens, 'Lies From Within' will be your operational parameters."

"Understood. Will I be fully operational in my new situation?"

"Totally. We are all hoping for great things from you."

"Thank you. I'll endevour to achieve my optional performance at that time. Icarus B shutting down."

"Sue, cancel communication with the Icarus transceiver." Asali said, slipping off the headset.

"All right, I'll bite." Said Lucas, "Who was that?"

"The box that Kusuka checked to see if it was still intact. Inside it is an extremely secret circuit board that your local stratocruiser accidentally dropped."

"Accidentally dropped? That doesn't sound like our defense force, especially the Firetail."

"Well, we had help from the other side. The important thing is that it has been found and is intact. In a couple of days, we'll slip a deep submersible robot in here to pick it up. Until then, its far safer down there than if we brought it back to Freedom's Run. Sorry but this is about as exciting as spy stuff gets in real life."

"Will I be able to tell anyone?"

"Of course." Asali grinned, "Just keep quiet for a week."

"Sure but what does that thing do?"

"It's a super cipher machine. Can unlock any code you put it up against." She said, leaning closer, "Any code. Without exception." Lucas' ears went flat.

"Whoa. Wicked coolness. So why don't you park a couple of stratocruisers over this place?"

"The other side knows the location of every Truenorth ship. Put two of them in the middle of nowhere and the media will show up too. However, nobody watches a couple of commercial divers, especially from a tribal land that few are allowed to visit."

"Shields and spears, everyone." Kunda said, getting to his paws, "Kusuka is surfacing in sixty seconds."

"Hope that pombe is still cold, Lucas." Asali grinned. She paused in the hatchway. "Its still pretty early. After we get his brother aboard and resting, you want to try a bit of diving yourself?"

"For real?"

"Its my charter."

"Well, there is a couple of killer wreaks off the lee of South Russet Island."

"Excellent. That should confuse anyone watching us."
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Geoffrey stirred, a grin plastered on his long muzzle even in sleep. He grunted, stiffened, and opened his eyes to the deep azure sky. Throwing back the tablecloth off his naked form, he sat up.

"My dear, you are a wonder. I've never been so thoroughly..." Sylvia sat, grim faced and fully clothed, on a rock ten paces away. In one hand, she held a satellite-uplink telephone. In the other, a 9 mm pistol pointed at the springbok's head. "...surprized."

"That makes two of us, loverboy." She said, calmly, "I thought this romance and picnic thing was legit until I found these stashed in the bottom of your backpack. Now, I'm not so sure. You want to explain why you're carrying a gun? And, before you think me stupid, be warned that I have an incredibly sensitive bullshit detector."

"Its for protection. I've found traveling alone demands that you have a backup when all else fails." Sylvia fired. The explosion of the shot in the cave could not mask the sizzle of a bullet missing his left ear.

"Try that again and I'll bury you up here." She said, "Everyone's a traveler in Happenstance. The cream and shit have been wondering through here for twenty-five centuries. Carrying a gun is a good way to get your ass dead." He pulled the tablecloth around his waist while pondering his options.

"Asali." He said, finally.

"The magic name." Sylvia grinned coldly, "I've been smelling her spoor all day. Why don't you enlighten me."

"Geoffrey Greentree is my Common Tongue name. I'm a captain in the Askari Walinda Nyumba, on assignment for the Truenorth Security Forces."

"The Nyumba Dola Home Guard? Like Asali?"

"Not quite. Shaneika Mbaya is a double agent. Nobody suspected until she suddenly defected a couple of days ago. She had used her intelligence contacts and knowledge to penetrate our darkest secrets. At the same time, she set up one of the most devastating spy rings in history. One of her agents included Captain Bushrunner of the Firetail."

"Don't make me shoot you. I've know Bushrunner."

"I understand your disbelief. My superiors were just as skeptical." He said, "For your information, Bushrunner suffered a heart attack on Wednesday night. You heard about the Firetail making a visit to Fairport? That was him being rushed to a military hospital in Carolette."

"Keep talking."

"Six months ago, Major Mbaya was put in charge of a super secret operation. The testing of an experimental encryption unit controlled by the latest generation of artificial intelligence. Small, self-operating, and decades ahead of its time, it's the key to every security system on Therion. So long as the technology remained in the hands of the free lands, everyone was safe."

"Except from the free lands." Sylvia said cynically.

"The only prototype was being tested aboard the Firetail. When Captain Bushrunner suffered his heart attack, Shaneika Mbaya was forced to use one of her agents to steal the unit and parachute off the ship. He was killed when his chute didn't open and the unit lost to the bottom of Fairport Strait. Her cover blown, Asali vanished."

"Lucky for everyone involved."

"Not really. The agent was Roger Greentree, my cousin. Shaneika Mbaya turned him then got him killed. I want her worthless fucking hide tacked up on the wall of my kiwanja." He said.

"Aren't you a little too close to the action to be operating here?"

"Normally, yes." He admitted, "Except, I found her first. Also, my cousin and I were close. We have... had almost the same scent. She doesn't know he hasn't gone into hiding. Hopefully, I can trick her into letting me get close enough to kill her."

"Good story but is it true?"

"You've got my uplink phone. I'll give you my commanding officer's number."

"I bet you would." She said, punching in a code without taking her eyes or the gun off of him. She held it to her ear as it rang.

"Kali? It's Sylvia Slipsunder. Sorry to bother you but I have a situation here. Do you know anyone still in the Truenorth intelligence community? Someone who is really in the know?" She paused as Kali replied. "No, this is way above that. I need to know if somebody is who they say they are." Another pause. "Says he's a major in the Nyumba Dola Home Guard working for Truenorth. Yeah, just like Asali." Sylvia placed the phone under her chin. "She's forwarding me to someone she knows." For several moments, the pair sat unmoving.

"Hello? Good day, sir. Has our mutual friend told you of my request? I'm very glad you could help. Major Geoffrey Greentree of the Askari Walinda Nyumba, on assignment for the Truenorth Security Forces. Thin, almost two meters tall, left handed. Yes, sir. Yes, sir, on the Firetail. No, that too. Trust me, sir, he's not the homosexual one. Just a second, I'll ask. What was your cousin's nickname?"

"Who the hell are you talking to?" the springbok asked in amazement.

"You don't want to know. Answer the question." She said, tightening her grip on the gun.

"Mtundu. It means 'mischievous person'."

"Mtundu. Thank you, sir. I cannot express how valuable your help has been. Good bye." Sylvia said, pressing the disconnect button.

"Well?"

"He confirms everything about you. Just the same, I'm keeping your gun." She said, unruffled, "So, now what? And remember, loverboy, my family is on this island."

"First, let me say - and I do this with you holding a gun on me - last night and this morning were not a scam. I truly do love you."

"The spy who loved me. Cliché but not something every female can honestly admit to. Let's say I almost believe you."

"Second, a question. Look over your shoulder to the boat in the middle of the strait."

"The one my son is on."

"I didn't know that." He said, his narrow ears flicking, "What do you know about the owners?"

"The Mebenga brothers work as commercial divers. They know Asali and are from Nyumba Dola or that vicinity. They were the multicoloured canids dancing last night at the Hooch."

"My cousin bailed off the Firetail about where that boat is floating. I think they're trying to recover the encryption unit that he died stealing."

"Shit. And Lucas is on that tub." She sighed, "What do I do?"

"Absolutely nothing. Act normally. Asali doesn't want to attract attention. She'll do everything to keep out of sniffing distance and will run as soon as she retrieves the unit. Just be watchful and tell me if anything happens. I'll take care of everything."

"Islanders don't trust the comforting words of outsiders but I'll make an exception in your case."

"Thanks. I mean it."

"Whatever. Get your clothes on." She said, standing, "The climb down is trickier. Death by falling is more obvious."

"You're pretty tough, Miss Slipsunder."

"Tough?" she snorted, flinging him his shorts, "You only know military shit. Get between me and my kids and I'll fucking feed you into a bandsaw." By the time they were ready to descend, they could see the Sue DeNym speeding southeast towards the Russet Islands. The climb down took twice as long as their ascent, with Greentree almost falling twice. Back on the hiking paths, he promised to contact his handlers then meet her for dinner in the Hooch. As he sprinted north to his camp, Sylvia clicked on the gun's safety and went to find some answers.

Janet was leisurely sun-bleaching her pelt on her hut's porch when her mother's shadow fell across her. One look upwards and Janet knew Sylvia was in angel-of-death mode. Her feline mind crouched for the first onslaught.

"Yes, mother?" she said, lightly.

"Have you seen Asali?" Sylvia said. Shit, Janet thought. She instantly tried a dozen delaying strategies in her mind. Acting innocent. Constantly questioning for clarification. Honing closer to definitions than a lexicographer. Outright denial. Changing the subject. Admitting to a lesser crime. Her mother's burning eyes suggested honesty was her only hope of continued existence.

"Early this morning."

"And you didn't tell me?" Sylvia said, darkening.

"She asked me not to." Janet admitted. Sylvia almost exploded but she remembered her daughter was half tigress and well past puberty. Asali was pure feline and had probably used her huntress' scent on the youngster.

"What did she say?"

"That she was in Happenstance to get a piece of government hardware to a client. She was also asking about your date. Told me to keep away from him but that you weren't in any danger."

"I'll bet. Is that the only time?"

"I swear, Moma, that's everything." Janet said, palms facing her mother, "However, there is also something about the canids with the million dollar cruiser that pulled in yesterday. Lucas saw something inside one of the cabins that looked like a spacesuits. I grabbed a scan of them and sent it to a friend who's father repairs diving equipment."

"You were snooping into a guest's belongings? How many times have I told you... All right, what did you find?"

"The spacesuits are super-deep sea diving rigs. Nobody knows how far down they can go because they're only used by the military. My friend's father said he's only heard of them being used straight from the development laboratory but the rigs those canids have are several generations later in development."

"Could they be diving to the bottom of Fairport Strait?"

"I guess so. Why?"

"That boat has been in the middle of the caldera all morning. And Lucas is on it."

"Moma, I'm sure he's in no danger."

"Hostages usually aren't." Sylvia said, stoking her long ears. Janet knew it was a sign that she was panicking.

"Really, Moma. I'll bet Lucas is fine."

"Damn right he is. God-like, I return from the sea, bearing the spoils of the deep." Lucas announced, striding into Janet's hut with a wet bag of trinkets, "Just wait until you see what I fished up from..." His sister sat on a lounger looking at him like he was fresh meat. His mother was standing beside her with glowing coals for eyes. The room scented of really bad things.

"Hi, Moma." He grinned, ears flat.

"Have you seen Asali?" The last time he had heard that tone was when his mother found him naked in the boathouse with a young female guest. Over Sylvia's shoulder, Janet broadly nodded 'yes'.

"Sure. This afternoon. On the Mebenga's boat."

"She staying on it?" Sylvia erupted.

"No. That's the funny part." he said, wrinkling his brow, "They were diving the Strait with this incredible suit..."

"I know all about it. Where was Asali?"

"She was in the water. Came up while Kusuka was on the bottom."

"What do you mean 'came up'? I was up at the lookout today and there wasn't another boat within kilometers of you."

"I know. She just surfaced with a mask and airtanks. The Mebenga brothers have a deadly sonar setup onboard. If there was a submarine within fifty klicks, I'd have known."

"So where did she come from?"

"Asali said she came in last night by parachute. Jumped from the Firetail into the Inlet as it was leaving Fairport." Janet said.

"Too far to swim from here to out to the middle of the Strait." Sylvia mused, "You sure she wasn't aboard?"

"Positive. Even if she was hiding and slipped over the side, I'd have heard her."

"Is she still on board?"

"No. After they were finished in the Strait, they took me diving on the wreaks off South Russet. That where I got these goodies." He said, holding up the tinkling bag, "As we were leaving, Asali came on deck with the airtanks and mask and stepped off the stern swimming platform. Kusuka and Kunda acted like they expected her to do that."

"The current around South Russet is a killer. She'll be sucked into open sea in half an hour." Janet said.

"That what I said. They just shrugged as if acting on orders."

"I'll bet they were." Sylvia said sternly. Grabbing Janet's telephone, she quickly punched in the Fairport Harbourmaster's number.

"Mr. Whitehart? Sylvia Slipsunder here. Fine, and I hope you're well too. Out of curiosity, did the Firetail land in your harbour recently. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Were you there? Uh-huh. Do you remember seeing a tall, lean feline about? Two meters, gold brown pelt, small round ears, talks with an accent. Smiles a lot. Yeah, nice figure and fangs to go with it. No, just wondering where to. That's all. Thanks and I'll bring a bunch of cook's sugar cookies next time I'm over. Bye." She said, hanging up, "The Firetail was in port three days ago during the storm. Dropped off some medical personnel and Captain Bushrunner who'd had a heart attack. They flew him to Carolette by emergency airlift the next day. Last night, the Firetail came by on patrol towards Lakehead and passed right over us. Charlie remembers seeing someone like Asali but not on board the Firetail. She was the lone passenger on a four-man sailboat that came in to harbour about four months ago from Port Elizabeth. Left the next day heading north by northeast towards the gap between us and Venture's Island."

"That's a restricted wildlife area." Janet said.

"Not that it would stop Miss Lock-and-load. Lucas, what were they looking for on the bottom of Fairport Strait?"

"A case containing a circuit board stolen from the Firetail. She said it was a state-of-the-art encryption unit. Kusuka found it on the bottom of the Strait but Asali had him leave it so a sub could pick it up without anyone noticing. She had him leave a transponder on top of it so they could find it again"

"Everyone has the same the same story but with telling variations." Sylvia said, "Seems Mr. Greentree is a Nyumba Dola spy working for Truenorth intelligence." Both of her children gave her the same slack-jawed look. "I discovered his picnic hamper consisted of cold chicken, salad, and an automatic pistol. When confronted, he coughed up the truth."

"Before or after he boffed you?" Janet asked.

"What?"

"Moma, we recognizable the scent."

"You skate on thin ice, child."

"Sorry, Moma. Comes from having been raised in the tropics. What did Mr. Long-horns say?"

"That Asali is a traitor. She operated a spy ring that included Captain Bushrunner and only ran when he had his heart attack. Apparently, she arranged for Greentree's cousin to steal the encryption unit. He died in the attempt and Greentree want's revenge."

"Asali said she was leaving the unit on the sea bottom because they were being watched." Lucas admitted.

"I can see Asali defecting." Sylvia said.

"I don't. Its smoke and mirrors." Janet said.

"I don't know what to believe." Lucas shrugged.

"Guess we're just going to wait until tonight and see what happens." Sylvia frowned, "Should be interesting."

"Nice understatement, Moma." Janet said, hugging her mother's shoulders with one arm.