Outer Ocean Odyssey

Two: Changing Tides

A woman appeared at our door last night, claiming that she was a fish. How was your evening?

I know sarcasm doesn't come across well on paper, but I hope you'll understand. You always were much smarter than me when it came to writing.

I thought she was making it up, this strange naked lady. Oh, yeah, she was nude too. I keep trying to forget that part, and yet I seem unable to. Me and Rye ate Booton, and she sat and drank a cup of whale milk. Eventually, I gave in and said I wanted to go to bed. She asked me if she could stay, and I honestly thought she meant with me, but I guess once a fish always a fish.

She said she had to back in water by sunup. Rye suggested the basement, and that was that.

I checked on her this morning. All that was down there was a little fish, bobbing about in the current.

I'm not sure what to make of Aruana. That's her name, by the way. As a person, she seems rather lovely. As a fish, she seems rather ... average.

It's the most exciting thing that's happened in a long while, regardless. I'll keep you updated.

Until tomorrow, then!

The smaller of the two suns hanging in the sky above the house cast a beam into Chris's bedroom. It was unusual for him to be writing at such an early time of day, but the current events called for such actions; the surprise arrival of a fish woman needed to be documented.

He rose from his sheets, donned his dressing gown, and proceeded to the kitchen. Rye was already there, sat at the dark oak countertop with a knife and fork in each paw-like hand.

"What time do you call this?" she asked.

"I don't know, what time do you call it?"

"I'd say ... lunch time?"

"But I only just woke up."

"You were up earlier, though."

"Only to check on ... our guest."

"I almost ate her, you know. If you'd left me waiting any longer, I would not have been able to control myself."

"You can make your own food."

"I know, but it's never as good."

The tiled floor squeaked as Chris pulled himself a chair. White light from the larger sun highlighted the chrome appliances, and reflected over the distant waves. The warm smell of the ocean entered his lungs, and as he breathed out, his mind locked on a dish.

"You fancy whale burgers?"

"You know I do!"

The heat of the stove melted the blob of baby blue blubber, creating a shallow pool in which Chris laid down two square chunks of meat. Smoke mixed with the aroma of sizzling sugars and frying fats, sending Rye's head to the table in a heavenly haze. Chris laid orange seaweed across the top of the pan using a nest of wooden tubes, allowing the grass to be warmed by the smoke.

"Can you at least toast the buns for me?"

Rye looked up from her stupor. "Do you really trust me after last time?"

"That was different, and you know it."

She slid down onto the floor, slithering towards the counter with the grill. Four thick slices of bread were plucked from the loaf bin and inserted gently into the contraption.

"This is your last warning, human. Heed my words."

"Just toast it."

Chris flipped the patties, caressing the newly cooked layer with his spatula. With the seaweed drooping, he dropped it onto the side, reaching for the last ripe Kakaya fruit. He squeezed until the soft outer shell cracked, peeling back the layers until the pink insides were revealed. With a spoon, he scooped out four healthy portions of the flesh, placing it carefully into the pan next to the burgers and pressing them down until they were just an inch thick.

"The bread is burning."

Chris glanced over. "No, it's not."

"I was just checking you were on it."

"I'm always on it where food's concerned."

He pierced the burgers with a fork, allowing the extra juice to flow around the pan. As the bread left the grill, he swooped round to grab each slice. The meat formed the base of the burgers, followed by the seaweed, and was completed by the solidified Kakaya.

"You want sauce?" he asked Rye. He turned and saw that she was back in her place at the table, knife and fork to hand once more.

"I'll add my own."

"Suit yourself."

The plate was lowered gracefully onto the table, but before Chris could even attend to his own meal, Rye's had gone.

"How do you manage that?" he asked.

Rye shrugged.

The evening seemed to arrive quicker that Chris had expected; before, in fact, he had even finished his burger. Both he and Rye knew better, however.

"Huh," he mumbled. "That hasn't happened for a while."

The falsity of the solar cycle extended, it seemed, to Aruana, who appeared in the doorway.

"Hello."

A piece of Chris's burger met the wrong side of his throat at the sight of the naked woman. He gasped for air, coughing and spluttering, until Rye found it was time to intervene.

The slap to the back sent Chris flying forwards, and tumbling to the ground.

"Hi, Aruana," Rye said. "We weren't expecting to see you again so soon!"

"Yes, well, I suppose it's nighttime, isn't it?"

"Not exactly," Chris wheezed.

He directed her to the back of the kitchen. Out another door was the conservatory. Small pink and yellow fairy lights lined the eaves, lighting the room, but not enough to cause a glare on the glass. Outside, above the vast expanses of dark sea, was a giant whale-like creature.

It floated across the sky, eclipsing the suns, and causing the waves to cease. The crashing was replaced only by a soft ringing in Chris's ears.

"It's been ages since old Red-Belly's come around," Chris muttered.

"Red-Belly?" Aruana asked.

"That's what I said," Rye interjected. "It's not even red."

"I thought it was when she first came around."

"She?"

"Again," Rye muttered, "he has no idea. It's all conjecture."

"I don't see you coming up with any hypotheses."

"She's beautiful ..." Aruana's gaze locked onto the space creature.

Chris observed the ocean. "The tide is changing," he said. "I don't know how she does it."

As the water began to stir again, and the ambient sounds returned to their surroundings, a large beam of light appeared on the horizon. The further Red-Belly swam, the closer and quicker the stream came.

"Aruana, don't you think you should—"

Light hit the house like a flash-bang. Aruana's arms melted into her sides, her eyes opening wide and bulging outwards. In an instant, she was flapping around on the carpet, gills gasping for water.

"Oh dear," Chris sighed.

"Quick," Rye said, licking her lips. "Get her up. Before I eat her."

"You have self control issues, y'know."

Chris scooped her up with both hands, quickly returning her to the basement. The water had begun lapping at the other end of the room, following the new rhythm of the waves. He watched her swim away before he closed the door. It was time to adjust the instruments.