Jane Doe

Prologue | Aelita

DROWNED SAILORS FOUND

BY Lillian Torroca

After nearly a week of diligent searching, the bodies of twelve foreign sailors washed up on the eastern shore of Austrailia. Residents are shocked and horrified, especially since each sailor was found wearing a peaceful smile.

Local theories are popping up already. "Their boat capsized and that's all there is to it," Lola Barnaby says. Peter Quimby disagrees, "No doubt about it, those men were definitely murdered." And Allen Devonshire, a local fisherman, remarked that the deaths are the work of magic. "That's why they were smiling!" he insists. Police are hard at work deducing the cause of death, but it seems that there were no signs of physical injury on the bodies...

--

"Faster! Ugh, come on, come on, faster! You can do better than that!"

Medeah urges me on as we race through the water. I can almost feel my hair tangling, but it's not a problem. I did remember to bring a comb along in my bag since it wouldn't do to see the king looking a mess.

To see the King. Wow. What did I do to deserve such an honor, you ask? Nothing, that's what. My mother just so happens to be one of his top advisors, which is why I have the opportunity to be slicing through the water like there's a giant squid behind me. The king is holding a hearing today to determine the punishment for two maids who broke surface. And, as Aquanetta Blackburn's daughter, I am allowed to sit in on these types of things. Medeah, as Chief Advisor Solomon Trache's daughter, sometimes tags along too, but she can't stand them. Usually I'd be more excited too, but usually the people on trial aren't my two best friends.

Tassahee and Shette have made some stupid decisions before but ugh. That has got to be the worst idea you've ever had, guys. Medeah's as white as a ghost and she looks as though she wants to swim home and hide under a blanket. I bet she thinks I'd call her a guppy if she did. And she's right. I would.

I still can't believe it's them. Twelve hapless boaters, dead. Oh, man. I've never been so disappointed in anyone before in all my life. Apparently, humans are infinitely puzzled as to what happened. Apparently, they just couldn't help themselves and apparently, when they saw the handsome Italians in that boat from under the water, they surged up and out, gleaming like pearls and-

No. I can't think it. I won't think it. Have a logical explanation, girls. Please please please. For me.

But, of course, they don't. Shette describes the whole thing in steamy detail (I'll never be able to wipe that from my brain) and Tassahee's lying straight through her teeth. They'll easily get a few years in prison. They're murderers, the king roars. Medeah squeezes my hand so tightly it hurts. My chest hurts too and my head, but Medeah's got nothing to do with those. Shette is actually getting teary-eyed as if she never realized that drawing a dozen men to their watery graves might actually merit a consequence. Tassahee is admiring herself in a mirror. Gold star! You get a gold star for your acting, Tassy! Because the jury might not, but I know that your ears are turning red because you want to cry but you won't let yourself.

And then they're leaving, actually being yanked out of the room by huge guards. Tassy stays firm and proud, her tail swishing haughtily while Shette screams for her mother. She notices me in the crowd and reaches out a hand, telling me to help her, to save her. And I can't tell you how much will power I need to turn away, my eyes leaking tears. My best friends, maids I've known since we were babes. Gone.

I don't remember how I end up home, but somehow I do, in my room. Lying down on my bed and trying not to think about what's happened. Mother, of all people, enters, her arms reaching out awkwardly to hold me. At a regular time, I'd reject this pitiful display of love, but I'm in no mood to reject comfort, so I allow her to wrap me in a hug. I'd like to sob on her shoulder, but I don't. Things have been strange between us lately.

"Are you alright?" she asks me, searching my eyes. Her gaze feels probing and uncomfortable. I nod and look away. Of course I'm not alright. "I'd never do something like that, you know," I inform her. "Break surface. Why would I? What's up there for me? Strange creatures without gills or tails." I shudder, but Mother does not seem relieved. She looks... worried.

Moments later, I know why. "The King, Orpheus, wants to put a ban on even going near the surface for teenage merfolk," she tells me in a rush. "With very, very severe consequences for rulebreakers." My eyes grow wide, but I shrug. "Well, good for him!" I say, pulling away from my mother. With two flicks of my tail, I'm off the bed, staring down at her, arms crossed. "I do not see  what this has to do with me." Nervously, she weaves her inky black hair between her fingers. I am boggled. Since when is my mother nervous?

"I told your good king..." she starts, her voice shaking. Mother clears her throat and begins again. "I told him that surface breaking shouldn't be illegal because, on select occasions, it can be educational. He did not believe me, so I said I'd find a scout." It's here that I realize what it is I see on my mother's face. An expression I only recognize from seeing it on Medeah and, today, Shette: fear. "Someone who could go to the surface and come back having learned something." Here, she looks pointedly at me. No. NO. She cannot possibly mean-

"Aelita, I know that you have always despised the surface, but you are the most intelligent teenager I know. If this experiment is successful, there could be supervised excursions to the surface! It's in the name of education and innovation, pushing our people forward!" So it's true. She really does mean to toss me headfirst into a waterless world. I can't do it. I won't. I cannot sacrifice my own ideals because my mother must find a 'scout.' Perhaps I am afraid but I am also smart. Smart enough to know that the ocean is my home. It's where I belong. 

And just as I open my mouth to tell her this, Mother swims up, places a hand on my shoulder and smiles the first genuine smile I've seen from her in months. "I know that you'll do the right thing," she whispers. And what can I do? My resolve crumbles almost immediately. We may be estranged, but she is my mother and if she cannot find a scout, her little experiment will fail. Perhaps this is the way to rebuilding our relationship. So I close my mouth, smile and nod, ignoring the churning snake of doubt and fear that has curled into my stomach for a long stay.