“Bah! I already know that,” the fearsome fire-breathing drake said dismissively.

  He turned his head away from her and gazed out across the ocean below, smoke billowing from his nostrils.

  His tone became more somber as he spoke aloud to his steel companion. “RX, we have much to discuss. I was right—the Wyrm has been whispering in Old Father’s ear. But my arrival in the mindscape sent that big crybaby running like the cowardly dog he really is. His crooked influence is now gone.”

  The dragon purposefully paced back and forth, his nose taking in the smells the wind carried.

  “Bzzz… That is a relief. He has been a good friend. I would have hated it if we had been forced into conflict with him,” the disembodied being said, expressing an unexpected fondness.

  It was becoming obvious to Grace that the Sky Gods had a soft spot for the underwater Titan, the colossus who ruled all of Earth’s oceans.

  “Yes, he has always been there when we needed him,” Hexabulous remarked as he stretched out his wings, “The good news is that our spaceman is down there. He was able to manhandle some of his Sheddings. Old Father felt it.”

  “Bzzz… Interesting. He must be much stronger than we originally assessed him to be. Recalculating probability of survival,” RX replied with some surprise.

  Being particular about the accuracy of his intelligence, the machine was not often wrong in his evaluations of, well, pretty much anything.

  He went silent for a time as he readjusted his calculations concerning the object of their search.

  “It would seem so. There’s also some bad news though,” the Red Dragon continued.

  He sat himself down on the edge of the hovering construct so that his clawed feet dangled freely off the side of his companion’s metal body.

  “What’s the bad news, Master Hexabulous?”, the Leprechaun’s Daughter inquired, her concern growing as her intuition warned her this news would be the most alarming yet.

  “He is traveling with a group of Havenites aboard one of their ships.”, Hexabulous stated with a sigh, confirming her worst fears.

  Mereque had fallen into the company of the last people any of them could possibly want him to run into.

  Havenites.

  Stories from her youth came rushing back. Terrifying tales of their pointed harpoons that pierced the waves and dragged mer-kin from the depths, never to return. Whispered warnings around Fay fires of Havenite ships that hunted anything different, anything not human. The songs of mourning for lost cousins who once danced beneath the moonlit surface, their laughter silenced forever.

  Grace’s hands trembled beneath the blanket.

  The Havenites were not conquerors like the Blanched. They were exterminators.

  “Oh… oh no…”, Grace muttered in worry, her face noticeably paling as the news sunk in.

  “Bzzz… The Havenites will likely kill him.”, the Machine stated rather clinically.

  “We must do something! We have to help him!”, the fairy said with insistence, turning and raising her voice to the dragon, who remained pensive and still.

  “Can you swim, fay girl?”, the ancient fire-breathing monster asked her.

  To which she did not answer, seeing as how they both knew that she could not.

  “Neither can I.”

  “Master RX? Can you do anything?”, spinning around, she pleaded to the other Sky God.

  “Bzzz… I can traverse the oceans if I desire. But unless Old Father Kraken permits it, I would be breaking our covenant with him and inviting a war—one that I do not think you are prepared to see, nor is it a fight that we are presently interested in instigating.”, the mechanical entity explained to her, acting a calming voice of reason once more.

  “Forget it. He’s not in the mood for that anyway, not after having the Weeper pecking around in his head the way he did. He’ll be a bit touchy now, so crossing that line isn’t something that’s in the cards for us,” Hexabulous commented, stifling a growl.

  “Then what can we do?” Grace asked again, feeling defeated and helpless once more.

  “We wait… and hope he comes up alive,” the Red Dragon answered, with more sympathy behind his words than she imagined he would ever offer.

  But Hexabulous understood her anxiety and worry all too well. The Havenites had a well-known reputation for being the most violent supremacists among the human populations, completely intolerant of anyone or anything that wasn’t their own kind. They had killed many Fay and other creatures ruthlessly over the centuries.

  It was thought—albeit unconfirmed—that those of her people who once inhabited the waters but long ago disappeared had been made extinct by their aggressive policies toward other living things outside the human norm.

  Monsters, giants, and anything different were considered fair game.

  It was the Havenites, her people believed, who had prevented the Fay from crossing the waves between islands and lands by driving the mer-kind extinct. Those of their people who dwelled beneath the waters of the world.

  Unlike the Blanched, who took prisoners and desired to convert as many to their twisted cause, the gigantic spaceman would be lucky if the sea people hadn’t already killed him.

  His unusual size was an oddity they would be unlikely to accept as normal for their species.

  But they were first and foremost survivalists.

  For whatever reasons, they had never acted like the expansionists the Blanched craved to be.

  Making them quick to withdraw from situations that endangered them.

  Echoing her private feelings, Hexabulous snorted in frustration. Patience not being his strong suit.

  But they had no choice other than to watch and wait now.

  Grace remained silent as the dawn brightened and the ocean stretched endless below.

  One small fairy girl, floating above the world with their gods.

  She pulled her blanket tighter, pretending her trembling was a shiver from the winds.

  ? ? ?

  On the outside of the Urchin Gull, Mereque marched faster across the hull than the other men in their floating deep-sea Heavy Bells.

  While effective, they were oversized power suits in his opinion.

  Even with the assistance of propeller-driven locomotion on their backs—where four powerful rotors spun smoothly through the gloom—his magnetized soles kept him anchored to the ship and more mobile than the ten men following him.

  These divers were less meant for soldiering and more acclimated to deep-sea repair work.

  Their equipment was tailored for it.

  Powerful grippers, built-in industrial tools, and metal welding torches were all configured into their multipurpose arms.

  Large gears motorized by internal generators enhanced their carry and lift capacity twenty-fold.

  Thick smooth steel and carefully pressurized interiors kept the pilots comfortable while they went about their duties.

  The circular face plates on their bell-curved heads made them look like a gang of one-eyed cyclopean sea giants.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  Mereque could spot things moving through the dark water around them.

  Occasionally, a glimpse of a long gelatinous tendril would be caught in the lights of the divers accompanying him.

  But just as quickly, they would slide away from the illumination and vanish from sight.

  It left him struggling against a constant gnawing anxiety.

  As if out there in the depths just beyond his vision, horrors of the worst kind imagined watched and waited in silence for their moment to strike.

  His optical microchip didn’t work as well within the distortions of the water currents.

  But it functioned adequately in his immediate area. Tracking those things he had seen. Cataloging their numbers.

  Much less than what his mind wanted to suggest under the duress of the situation.

  Thankfully it gave him clarity of thought he wouldn’t otherwise have had. It allowed him to proceed with confidence and lead them towards the first auxiliary thruster.

  Located not far from their exit port along the starboard side of the ship, the opening was massive.

  Cleverly hidden by the aesthetics on the outside of the Gull. Smartly designed contours and patterns practically hid it from observations made at any distance.

  Though at this near proximity, it stood out like a gaping maw.

  At first, nothing seemed untoward. But as the Heavy Bells shone their lights down into it upon reaching the edge, the horror awaiting them became clear.

  Thousands of the Sheddings had entwined together deep into the port. Pressing down as they attempted to squeeze through. Tangling generators and conduits, allowing a few to slip into the vessel’s maze of ducts and piping.

  They would have to burn their way through the dense clot.

  Luckily the spaceman had his own utility torch built into a recessed compartment on the underside of his gauntlet.

  He slid it open with his other hand, exposing the tip that blazed to life with steel-melting heat.

  As if they had practiced synchronizing their actions, the other ten men activated their own welding tools at the ends of their thick arms.

  Shining like bright stars in the night.

  Leading the charge, Mereque wasted no time tackling the Sheddings head-on. Pulling at them and burning them in large chunks that floated lifelessly away.

  He was stabbed several times, but they were mostly shallow wounds. His helm and partial armor provided protection enough for the more vital areas, and his body could handle these depths.

  The Heavy Bells, in contrast, were slower but better guarded against damage.

  The thick brassy iron couldn’t be penetrated or even dented by the creatures’ numerous barbs.

  Together they worked relentlessly against the tangled mass.

  Sometimes individually. But as time went on, more and more as a team. Coordinating their efforts to remove larger segments of the Sheddings.

  As efficient as they soon became, the sheer volume of the creatures clogging the thruster port prevented any expedient results.

  Their task ground on for much longer than Mereque had hoped.

  The ten men he led were clearly becoming exhausted as they reached what was likely only the halfway point.

  It had taken them nearly an hour of burning and wrestling with the creatures to get that far.

  They would be working an equal amount of time from there just to finish the job—even before moving onto the next one.

  One thing he was thankful for: the Sheddings appeared to be much more docile in the watery environment, compared to how they behaved within the confines of the ship.

  He wondered if it was the difference in atmosphere that agitated them to a point that made them so murderously hostile. Or what was drawing them into the ship in the first place. But these were questions for another time.

  Ventrullis had patched himself into the short-range laser communication network used to speak between the ship and the divers.

  His optical receiver was the ideal medium for intercepting and hacking into such signals.

  Since they worked with a primitive but electrical/light-based technology that was compatible with his own, it was an easy task.

  He had been able to stay in touch with the command cabin that way.

  His HUD pulsed once, displaying a crisp confirmation: ACCESS GRANTED – PRIMITIVE PROTOCOL ACCEPTED WITHOUT RESISTANCE – COMMAND CHANNEL INTEGRATED.

  At first catching them by surprise but soon finding the Havenites adjusting well to his unexpected presence on their comms.

  Mereque pressed on. Torch blazing. The team following.

  Commander Esark helped guide him in the removal effort against the clot of Sheddings.

  It was obvious that this wasn’t the first time they had dealt with such an emergency.

  They knew how to burn the gelatinous monsters in the most expedient ways.

  The men selected to go with him were exceptional, seasoned in this regard.

  As the spaceman would learn later, they were part of an elite naval marine team—not the standard mechanical operators usually assigned to work in the Heavy Bells.

  Warhog, Icepatch, and Vineleaf were three of the code names he managed to pick up over the communications chatter.

  The others had equally colorful names.

  During their second hour of struggling to remove the Sheddings, the Zaxvoyan recognized the exhaustion the men were beginning to experience.

  He ordered them to take shifts in five for ten-minute intervals.

  Giving the other five a chance to rest.

  None of them objected.

  He himself worked harder to pick up their slack as much as one man could.

  Which in his case was no small amount.

  He tore into the spindly creatures with abandon.

  After what seemed like an endless struggle in slow motion, the bulk of the Sheddings had been cleared from the first auxiliary.

  While teams inside were still scrambling to handle the ongoing intrusion, Thom Esark’s voice came over the comms line to order their withdrawal.

  “Good work. You can all head back in.”

  “What about the other ports, Commander?”. Mereque asked, more out of curiosity than doubt.

  He was confident that these men knew what they were doing. Working alongside them had illustrated that. They were all well seasoned crewmen to the last.

  “We only need the one to turn the Gull around. The rest will be taken care of when we resurface. Now, let’s get you all back on board.”, Esark responded, offering no other explanations, other than indicating that what they had done was sufficient for now.

  Even though how they were to deal with the other invading Sheddings remained an unanswered question, he followed the Commander’s instructions.

  Leading the team back to the same airlock they had exited from, with all hands accounted for, they returned with the mission considered a success.

  Mereque removed his helmet. Breathed deep.

  The men in the Heavy Bells locked themselves into their individual docking stations, where the suits were stored when not in use.

  Just as the control cabin activated the starboard auxiliary they had just cleaned out.

  Fortunately, he was still magnetically anchored to the floor when the ship suddenly lurched into motion.

  Several of the men let out enthusiastic whoops of excitement, followed by laughter.

  The thrust spun the vessel around rapidly enough to have otherwise thrown him into the far wall. Repositioning the bow of the Gull upwards at a forty-five-degree angle versus how it had been pointed down at the sea floor only seconds before.

  Earlier, the spaceman had been caught without his armor on; removing it when cleaning himself in Jenker’s cabin. The lesson had been learned. He had promised himself he wouldn’t make the same mistake again, and he hadn’t.

  Sensing what was to come, Mereque moved to lean against the wall at his back.

  Then a forward thrust launched the Gull upwards at a quick clip. Strong enough that he would have otherwise been thrown backwards if he had not taken that short step.

  They broke the surface within moments.

  As their pressure lock slowly drained itself of water, the team began releasing themselves from their large brassy diving suits.

  Mereque decoupled his magnets.

  Unsealing his headgear, he took in a fresh breath of air. Restoring fresh oxygen to his lungs. Re-filling the artificial secondary and tertiary organs within himself that helped maintain his reserves.

  Several of the Havenites slapped him on the back. Expressing their thanks for leading them and for his impressive contributions during the outing.

  The one known as Icepatch even shook his larger hand in two of his own.

  Mereque nodded, smiled broadly.

  Acceptance. Camaraderie. Two things he had forgotten he had missed.

  It wasn’t long before a smiling Fishburn appeared at the hatch, informing them he was there to escort him back to the command room, where the officers awaited a debriefing.

  They departed, leaving the soldiers behind inside lock three, hurriedly passing through the long corridors that would get them to their destination.

  Ventrullis asked his escort—whom he noticed was no longer armed with his flamethrower.

  “What about the rest of the Sheddings? We only cleared the one auxiliary.”

  “Dead.”, Fishburn said, looking over at him. There was a newfound respect clearly lurking behind his gaze.

  “As dangerous as they can be, they can only live in deep water. We’re not sure if it’s the pressure, the light, or a combination of the two that kills them when they get too close to the surface. But they can’t survive up here.”

  He nodded in understanding, relieved by the news. The spaceman had been prepared to continue fighting for the next few hours if need be.

  But knowing that wouldn’t be the case was a better outcome in his estimation. Fighting more of those things was not on his bucket list.

  “Captain, reporting back as ordered, sir.”

  The naval man announced as they re-entered the command cabin, flashing a salute as the officers’ eyes all turned toward them.

  “Mister Mereque, my men are all wondering how it is you were not crushed into a jelly paste out there. I assured them you are not a demon, fairy, or trickster of any sort—just a man from a faraway land with special technology. Special metals inside his body.”

  Jenker called out to him from his chair on the other side of the room, giving him a wry look as if to say, ‘please, indulge my people, friend’.

  Mereque allowed a small smile.

  The crew watched.

  He remembered the captain’s warning. These people needed answers. They were suspicious. He could understand that.

  Thus, he was mindful with his words when he answered, making no mention of his true origin.

  “Where I come from, my people are as human as all of you. Our doctors and scientists have perfected techniques that allow us to enhance our bodies with refined materials. Much of what you have seen me do is only possible because they operated on my body for many years, changing me in countless ways. Making me stronger. More suited for the journey I had to take to get here. I am not supernatural. I am just more mechanical. Think of it as having one of your Heavy Bell suits put inside your body.”

  There was a pause. Then some murmurs. Followed by nods of understanding. This seemed to satisfy most of them.

  Though Commander Esark was still casting him an uncertain look, as if he had more questions he would like answered. But he kept quiet, and for the moment he accepted the explanation.

  “You were planning on heading north. Are you still intending to go that way?”

  Dammad asked him, activating controls from his seat, which brought up a new isometric holographic display of the region to the large table at the center of the room.

  Mereque considered the situation for a moment. He had every intention of continuing his journey. But these people also offered a chance to fulfill certain parameters of that mission.

  “Yes, I do. Though I hope I can travel with you for a little while longer yet.”

  The captain smiled broadly at him upon hearing that.

  “Then you can come with us! We’re heading to Havenlocke Harbour! It’s north of our current position. The same direction you are headed. Besides, I know the fleet council will have some questions for me, and for you.”

  He turned to the crew.

  “Navigation, set a new course! We’re going home!”