“For a time.A short time, mind you.I went by a different name, then.Unfortunately, I had the displeasure of falling under the crew of a madman—a peg-legged maniac chasing a white whale.”
“I am pretty sure that’s the plot to Moby Dick,” I said.
“Is it?”Brother Al asked.“Hmmm.I’d heard of that Melville fellow and always wondered.Met him in a harbor pub in New England, once upon a time.He was a rapt listener, I’ll say.Never shared a blue cent with me, either, the rapscallion.”
“I’m calling bull.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t believe you,” I said.“And even if I did.How would you remember that?Vic told me vampires can’t remember past a certain time frame.”
“There are ways,” Brother Al said.“I am a different bloodline, mind you, than he.If you keep memories fresh, keep associated with an object or a passion, the linked memories stay fresher.I often engage in my love of boating.”
“I was wondering why all this with the boats from Canada instead of a bus or something.”
“There’s little border patrol on the waters,” Brother Al said.
There was a clank at the bars.Three mermen stood at attention, throat sacs bulging.One of them was licking its own eyeball.The center one had the most impressive frill work on its head and was clad in what looked like a pristine white robe sewn from pearlescent silk.
“What do you want from us?”Brother Al asked.
“Merely your assistance,” the middle Merman croaked, and its English was impeccable and unaccented.It looked at the guards on either side.“Unlock the door and leave us.”
They bellowed at one another uncertainly, and the middle Merman grew pompous and cross, knocking one of them in the face.They acquiesced and left after one of them pawed a key at our cell, and the pearly Merman sat down at the table.
“Please,” he said.“Sit and sup.”
“I’m fine,” I said.
“Please, I insist.We have been working on our human cuisine.”
“I guess you guys haven’t seen Twilight Zone,” I said.
The Merman stared at us, head cocked, one eye blinking by itself creepily.
“I could use a refresher,” Brother Al said.“I am afraid I cannot digest cooked food.”
“Ah, you’re one of them,” the Merman said.“We did all this preparation for human-style cuisine, and then get a ton of special requests.I would half-think none of you were human beings at all.”
“I am,” I said.“And at least two others.”
“Speaking of,” Brother Al snapped.“Where are our shipmates, and those you captured before us?”
“That is what I’ve come to discuss,” the Merman said.“Ah, allow me to introduce myself.My name is—er—humans use it to hang bits of fabric in the breeze—”
“Clothesline,” Brother Al said.
“Flagpole,” I said.
“Yes, that’s the one.Flagpole-of-the-Royal-Staff.Flag-Staff, for short.In your tongue.I am a high-ranking member of the nobility.Currently, our, mmmm, what is the word, ‘pod,’ perhaps, though that loses some meaning—”
“I thought your kind were wiped out,” Brother Al said.
“Disheartened and scattered, yes.Our old Kingdoms shattered with the deaths of our Gods and our religions.Here and there, we have Pods, loose collectives, that have gathered.A very feudal system, still.I am afraid Aquan society is a bit behind you land-dwellers.Ideas generate more slowly down here.”
“You said something about your pod…” I said.
“Ah, yes.We were founded here, a century and change ago.Our forebears planted us in the lakes.We struggled to adapt to freshwater but found that normal decoctions of mud in our diet helped our need for saline.Our ruler was a great and mighty Aquan by the name of Shatter-pins.He overthrew the corrupt Priests that ruled our forebears and founded this colony.For a century and a half, he has ruled peacefully over this lake, acting as a Father figure and a beneficent emperor to our peoples.There were stirrings, now and again, of rebellion—unrest in the laity, you understand.Those who wished to return to the old ways.”
