The Twice Lost

questions.

“Might be possible, though it sure wouldn’t be easy. That’s not why they’ll never do it, though. They’d have the shipping companies and God knows who all screaming bloody murder if they tried it. One of the busiest ports in the country? They’re going to just stop that dead? Don’t think so.”

Luce’s tail had started twitching from excitement even before she consciously understood the implications of what he’d just said to her. “You’re saying they couldn’t afford to let that much business stop? So if it did . . .”

“You know how they say that blood is thicker than water, mermaid? I’ll tell you what’s thicker than blood. Blend up a stack of dollar bills and you’ve got yourself the thickest substance known to man, and it’s the goddamned stickiest!”

Luce was barely listening to him anymore. The Golden Gate Bridge wasn’t visible from here; all the buildings of downtown San Francisco were in the way. But she was gazing in its approximate direction anyway, her tail flicking in narrow loops behind her.

“Step your foot in that gunk, don’t care what kind of principles you think you’ve got; you’re trapped for life. Like a poor mouse in one of those glue traps, gnawing your own legs.”

No. Her idea was completely insane. It would take so many mermaids, probably thousands more than she had with her, and they’d all have to be so powerful. Luce could control an impressive volume of water, and Imani and some of the others were getting pretty good as well, but what she had in mind—it just wasn’t realistic.

“Hey, Miss Mermaid?”

Luce glanced back at him, though her thoughts were still far away. No matter how much she told herself she was being ridiculous, she was still longing to dash off and find Imani and the others.

“You have any clue how famous you are now?” His pale eyes shone with an expression Luce couldn’t identify, although the word “questing” occurred to her. He was looking for something, she thought. Then what he’d asked hit her, and she reeled a little.

“What are you talking about?” Luce demanded. Though actually, maybe she already had an idea . . .

“How about that you’ve gone Hollywood? How about a gigabillion views of that little movie you starred in? I wanted to see if I could learn anything about you after you saved my life. Hit the computers at this community center I go to, and hot damn if it wasn’t the exact same fishtailed Girl Wonder looking back at me from the screen.”

Luce’s mouth opened wordlessly. Of course she’d seen those humans pointing their camera at her, and she knew the government had found out she’d been sighted. But she hadn’t seriously considered the possibility that the video would wind up on the Internet or if it did that anyone would be interested. “You’re saying . . . I saw them holding a camera, but I didn’t really think they’d . . . or that anybody would believe . . .”

“Huge. It’s gotten huge. They put it out there, you better believe it, and now it’s all over the place.”

“Do people think it’s real?” Luce asked. How could they, though?

The old man shrugged. “If I hadn’t met you personally I wouldn’t have known what to think, Miss Mermaid who ought to be friendly enough to tell me her name, already. See, though, what you might want to think about . . .”

Luce was still disoriented by the news he’d just given her. It took her a second to focus. “Um, what?”

“Well, if you’ve got something you’d like to tell all the folks out here in humanland, they’ll probably listen. You’ve already got their attention.”

Luce thought about that. Of course she had a lot of things she wanted to say to the humans: so many that she had no idea where she should start. But she couldn’t take the risk that the divers would find out where she was. If they came looking for her, they’d find everyone else, too.

How much harm had that video already done?

“You said you’d help me!” Luce began as the panic hit her. “You said I knew who to ask!”

The old man shook his head, surprised by her vehemence. “I did, sure. And you do. What did I say? How am I not trying to help?”

“No one—this is really, really important, okay?—no one can know I’m here! You can’t tell anyone!”

Once again Luce saw understanding crash through his face like a wave. “They’re looking to catch you, huh? Not just—to catch things like you? People from the government?”

After a brief pause Luce nodded. He’d already figured out that much.

“Why, though? They want to give you to their scientists? Send electricity through you and whiz you through their machines and find out how you tick?”

That hadn’t occurred to Luce before, but now that he mentioned it that seemed like a possibility. “I guess they might.”

“Good thing about ghosts.” He nodded emphatically, his haphazard gray hair twitching with the movement. “They know how to keep their mouths shut. Or if they do talk it just comes out like ‘whoooo.’” He cracked up laughing wildly, but when Luce didn’t join in he calmed himself just as suddenly. “Nobody listens to me anyway, Miss Mermaid. But I’ll keep quiet. Awright?”

It didn’t seem like she had much choice about trusting him. “Okay.”

“And your name is? Princess Autocrata Waveform? Mermaladia McSea?”

She hesitated again. “Luce Korchak.” Why had she given him her human name, though?

“Plain old Luce Korchak? Huh. And you can call me Seb of the Ghosts.”

Luce had the sense that she was humoring him, but considering how much he knew that seemed like a good idea. “You’re as alive as anybody, though.”

“You’re not the first one to say so, Miss Luce Mermaid. A pack of morons kept on badgering me with words to that effect after I got back from Vietnam. That just goes to show what they knew, doesn’t it?”

Luce couldn’t tell if he was serious. It wasn’t reassuring to think that her only human ally might be totally delusional. “If you’re already dead, then how could you almost drown?”

“Oh, that.” He grinned at her lopsidedly, and his pale eyes gleamed. “I’m not by any stretch suggesting that I won’t have to die again. Now, who ever told you that once was enough? Let me tell you something, Lucy Goosey. People always think that ghosts are spirits, right? But a man’s walking-around body can be a ghost a whole lot easier than his spirit can.”

15 An Appeal

The man on the screen had short-cropped hair, a stubbly chin, and wry cinnamon-colored eyes. Behind him was what appeared to be a sunny, comfortable kitchen with pale yellow cabinets and a large vase full of lilacs. “Hi,” he said, with an odd self-conscious smile. “My name is Andrew Korchak, and I just wanted to say something to anyone out there who’s been watching that video with that green-tailed mermaid swimming out from under the dock. The thing is . . .” He held up a photo, and the camera zoomed shakily in on it until a girl with short, dark, jagged hair and frightened eyes filled the screen. “That mermaid wasn’t always a mermaid. You can all see here it’s the same face, right? This photo here is my daughter, Lucette—Luce—and this is her seventh-grade picture from school.”

He choked up a little and looked down. From off screen a gentle voice said, “Andrew. Can you go on?”

Secretary Moreland squirmed in his heavy armchair and rapped his knuckles against the desk supporting the large monitor where this new and even more outrageous video was playing. With each rap his reddish jowls swayed and his stiff white hair vibrated slightly. Three other men in suits stood fidgeting behind him, their eyes carefully blank but their mouths twisting.

The picture zoomed back out and Andrew Korchak looked up. “Right. Well, I was away for a while. I couldn’t help it, and it’s too much to tell you all, but Luce was alone with my brother and he . . . he hurt her. He hurt her so much that she stopped being a human girl, and she changed into what you’ve all seen. Don’t ask me to explain