Yonaguni Monument

  Razan glared at a hermit crab hiding in a purple shell. It wasn't his fault if the thing was taken to the ship and died, but somehow he’d feel guilty about it. Then again, he also didn't want to miss out on points by leaving the purple shell behind.

  To his left there came the sounds of a fight, and he looked over to find Sophie in a tug-of-war with a fish as long as her arm. It had grabbed the end of her chest wrap and was trying to either eat or swim off with it. Possibly both. Mutya was helping Sophie keep her garment on while Rani repeatedly hit the fish with a rock.

  Peter swam up, stopping next to Razan to watch the battle.

  “This is why I want her to wear real clothes,” the cowboy muttered.

  Razan grinned. “I think it’s fine.”

  Peter gave him an odd look. “You don't mind that everyone within hearing range is watching a fish try to swim off with her top?”

  “No. This provides an entertaining excuse for us to demand she bail early; as opposed forcing her to bail when her blood gets close to freezing again.”

  “That’s not what-” Peter stopped, grimacing. “I leave her to you, then.” Shaking his head, he turned around and went back to his designated area.

  Still holding the shell with the crab in it, Razan swam to the three women, reaching them just as Rani finally dislodged the fish. It looked like it wanted to try taking the chewed fabric strip again, but four against one was apparently not odds it wished to test.

  “Razan,” Rani panted as Mutya tied Sophie’s wrap together, “take the damn shells and send Sophie home.”

  Sophie held up her bag; she’d collected about a third more than Razan had, judging from how full it was.

  “One moment,” he said, reaching over to take her braid. He pulled the end over and waved it in front of the hermit crab.

  The crab immediately snapped at it. Tugging gently, Razan managed to get the crab out of his purple shell.

  “I knew that would work,” he said, pleased.

  Mutya crossed her arms. “Now all we have to do is get the crab off her hair.”

  Sophie took her braid from Razan. “That shouldn't be too-eep!” She twitched back, flapping her hand as the crab’s other claw dug into her finger.

  Razan stopped her, putting his hand over the crab and pulling it gently but firmly away from her. He turned and dropped it into a crack in the stone floor. Seeing it vanish, he took the bag of shells from Sophie.

  “Please, before anything else exciting happens, go home,” he said, bowing.

  She put on an extremely innocent look. “But I wanted to see one of those sharks above us up clos-”

  Rani and Mutya both yelled, talking over each other as they insisted she leave immediately. Giggling, Sophie found her bail device and pushed it. The remaining two women finally relaxed.

  “Coming without weapons was a bad idea,” Rani said, dropping her rock.

  Razan attached Sophie’s bag to his belt. “Thank you for keeping her safe.”

  “No problem,” Rani said dismissively, stretching.

  Mutya smiled. “Yes, it was a problem; you owe me, Drifter.”

  Razan bowed to her. “If ever you are attacked by a fish, I will be delighted to help.”

  Sophie finished drying off after a quick shower and pulled on her fuzzy robe thing before heading to the group area. Her hair was still very faintly teal, but only if she looked for it.

  Marie looked over from her spot on the couch when the door opened and smiled. “Seems you had quite an adventure.”

  “Aye, quite,” Sophie agreed, collapsing into the couch next to her. “I didn't freeze this time, but I do feel exhausted. Who are you watching?”

  Marie pointed at the six pictures on the wall in turn. “Peter, Razan, was you but it’s following Rani now, Louis, Ebba, and Luna.”

  Sophie frowned at the sixth image. “Luna… From Moss? Why?”

  “Moss is at the bottom of the structure. Wanted to see it,” Marie shrugged. “It’s an impressive block of stone.”

  “Oh.” Sophie yawned.

  “Incidentally, child, ‘aye’ is not a word your mother would approve of you using.”

  Sophie frowned. “I used it?”

  Marie nodded, smirking.

  “Well…” She leaned against the old pirate, getting comfortable. “Thankfully you’re here, and not my mother.”

  Marie patted her arm. “Aye, thankfully.”

  Peter reached the northwest corner of the structure and carefully peered over the edge. It was a long, long way down. Dark shapes moved in dark water, but he couldn't tell what those shapes were.

  Looking back across the stone monolith, he could just make out Razan coming slowly towards him.

  He checked the time and found just under three hours remained in the contest. He’d already replaced his air bag once, and his second was well into the yellow. None of the sea creatures had taken an interest in him, other than a bright orange fish which had seemed annoyed that the shells didn't have anything living in them. It had followed him for a few minutes, acting for all the world like a dog hopeful for scraps.

  Deciding sitting around waiting for Razan was pointless, Peter made his way to the nearest air bag cache, scanning the ground for purple shells. He found two before reaching his destination. At that point Razan was close, and swam straight over without searching.

  “How are you faring?” the samurai asked, checking his air gauge.

  “Doin’ pretty good, I reckon,” Peter drawled. Then smiled and dropped the exaggerated accent. “I’ve found around thirty. Given that I’ve hid about thirty each of the other colors, I doubt I passed many up.”

  Razan nodded. “Same. Ready to switch places and head back?”

  “Sir, yes, sir,” Peter shrugged.

  Razan nodded and started north before hesitating. “There’s a tiger shark circling to the south. Keep an eye on it.”

  Peter pointed above them. “There’s sharks all over the place. Comes from being in the ocean I think.”

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  “No, there’s a-” Razan stopped, frowning. “Those sharks are in a group. They’re timid. This shark is alone. It will be brave, if it thinks someone is wounded.”

  “Oh,” Peter said, understanding. “Right. I’ll keep an eye on it.”

  “Thank you. Good luck,” Razan said with a bow, and swam north.

  Peter moved to touch a hat that wasn't there, glared at his hand, and pushed himself south.

  Razan moved down a set of stairs, wondering how this structure had been built. It looked like an ancient temple which had been taken from somewhere else on the planet and dropped here. He decided that, next time they were here, he’d go to the bottom and check for doors or windows.

  His musings were interrupted by the sounds of an argument. Looking around, he saw a Mask arguing with a man from Heralds. A few black and white birds approached as they fought over a shell.

  “Combat is not allowed in this contest,” two of the birds said simultaneously.

  “I had it first!” the Mask insisted. It was someone in the beekeeper’s outfit; they sounded like a ten-year-old girl.

  “If you had it first, why are you trying to take it from me?” the Herald asked.

  “Because you stole it right before I touched it!”

  Three of the birds spoke, “Combat is not allowed in this contest.”

  Razan slowly moved away from them, focusing on the ground. He didn't want to be caught in whatever punishment was about to be dealt.

  The Herald shouted something which Razan specifically did not listen to, the Mask squeaked an angry reply, and the birds spoke again. Razan picked up a purple shell and pushed a blue shell into a clump of coral.

  More yelling happened, followed by a blue flash.

  “Combat is not allowed in this contest,” the birds said one final time.

  Razan glanced up to see the Mask pocket her shell. The Herald was gone.

  After a moment, Razan moved further away from the Mask, hoping they weren't looking for purple shells as well.

  A spotted shark drifted lazily through the water, always moving parallel to the structure’s edge. Something in Peter’s soul screamed at him that it was looking for lunch.

  Peter wasn't an expert on sharks. There were smallish fish around which he suspected were sharks, but they mostly tried to not be noticed. He politely pretended to not notice them. The group of shadows circling above were just doing their own thing; like snakes, they wouldn't bother nobody as long as nobody bothered them. He had no plans to swim to the surface, so those sharks were probably fine.

  But the predator swimming to the south was clearly hunting.

  Two puffins had been dedicated to watching it. They sat on the edge of the structure, their heads tracking the shark’s movement. It made Peter feel a tiny bit better, knowing the rostari were keeping an eye on it, but seeing the shark was big enough to eat one of them in two bites lessened his trust that they’d be able to do anything.

  The people around him also seemed to be leery of the shark. Two men who had started out near the edge were now closer to the center, and a woman from Fleeting kept stopping to check the shark’s location.

  Peter knew logically that it wouldn't help at all, but he really wished he had his poncho. A knife would have been nice, too.

  Looking north, he saw Razan in a conversation with Grace. Peter wondered what excuse he could come up with to join them.

  Not paying attention to the water around him, he walked into a jellyfish. Since his shirt was fairly thick, it didn't do much more than startle him.

  Until he pushed it away with his bare hand.

  Tendrils apparently made of pure pain wrapped around his fingers, branding his skin with angry red lines wherever they made contact. Peter yelled, stumbling back, trying to get it off by pushing it away with his other hand.

  Which was an incredibly bad idea, he immediately realized. Pain radiated down both hands as the jellyfish tentacles got more and more tangled around his fingers.

  He blinked, and his right elbow was in a shark’s mouth.

  Time slowed. Pain faded, along with all other senses except sight. Nothing made sense. There was a shark biting his elbow.

  Peter was from the northwestern end of Texas. He felt very at home in the scorching dry heat of a desert. And there was a shark. Looking at him. As its teeth sank further into his arm.

  It twitched, and suddenly was gone. Peter dropped in the water, blood pouring out of his arm as he flailed, trying to gain some sort of balance. The jellyfish was now the least of his problems as pain exploded along his back, the shark having tried to bite into his ribs and failed. He managed to stop his head spinning long enough to see the shark darting away and then towards him again. He held his left arm up in self-defense, and the shark’s jaws clamped around it. Peter screamed, wishing he had a weapon as he clawed at its rough skin with his free hand, trying to find leverage as it thrashed, its teeth sinking further in with every movement. Puffins circled the shark, pecking at it, but they didn't seem to be doing anything helpful.

  And then Grace punched it in the face.

  That momentarily stunned both Peter and the shark. Grace shouted at it, cursing it to hell and back as she punched it again, and Peter regained enough sense to try tugging his arm away. That’s when he discovered the shark’s teeth were not only serrated, but were also hooked. A shark having hooked teeth seemed unfair.

  Razan appeared and grabbed the shark’s fin. He kicked hard in the water, forcing it onto its back to hold it upside-down as the puffins continued swimming around uselessly.

  “Knife,” he snarled at the birds.

  Peter was now also upside-down, his arm still caught in the shark’s slack mouth. He tried shaking his arm, but that just increased the amount of blood in the water. He was glad he couldn’t see the extent of the damage, because it was extremely painful.

  Grace, meanwhile, was going through Peter’s pockets, muttering, “Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.”

  Blood clouded the water as a blue flash provided Razan with his long knife, and more blood appeared as the shark was efficiently dispatched.

  Before Peter could gather his senses enough to ask Grace what she was doing, or ask that someone help turn him the right way up, she pulled out his bail device and put it in his hand. Moving away, she ordered him to push it.

  Not wanting to upset the woman who’d punched a shark for him, Peter bailed.

  Razan watched the school of sharks above them. They were moving distinctly faster than before.

  “Way too much blood here,” Grace said, twitching with nervousness. “Everyone needs to leave.”

  “We need to leave, certainly,” Razan agreed, using his knife to pry loose a few of the dead shark’s teeth. “As long as people avoid this general area, and those sharks eat this one, they should be safe.” He slid the teeth into a pocket.

  “Right, yeah, there-” She looked at one of the birds. “There needs to be a wide perimeter set up around here. Don't let anyone get close.”

  “Understood. We won't,” the bird promised.

  The sharks above began swimming in their direction.

  “Time to go,” Grace said, and bailed.

  For good measure, Razan stabbed his knife into the dead shark’s stomach and carved a deep line through it. With its gore spreading through the water, hopefully all other sharks would ignore the living, fighting humans who were wandering around.

  His duty done, Razan found his bail device and pushed it.

  As soon as the blue glow faded, a raven hopped over. “Do you require medical assistance?”

  “No,” he said with a bow, seeing Grace was still in the room.

  “I don't bloody care, take me to him,” she demanded of the raven talking to her.

  “We cannot,” the raven told her patiently. “You are not a part of his group-”

  Grace spun to Razan, fists clenched. “Razan! Tell them I’m allowed to see Peter!”

  “He is not the group leader,” the raven said.

  At that moment, Marie came running into the room, Peter’s poncho over her arm. She stopped, taking in the scene.

  Grace stepped towards her. “Marie, Peter’s in medical on the other ship, tell them I can go see him.”

  Marie glanced at Razan before reaching out to take Grace’s hand. “Not yet, child,” she said gently, holding up her raw knuckles. “Go shower. Clean this off. Get into dry clothes. And then I will let you see him.”

  “But-” Grace stopped, the calm logic apparently reaching her. “Right.” She ran out of the room.

  That done, Marie turned to Razan. “How bad was it?”

  “Were this Japan, I would have said his arm needed to be amputated,” Razan answered, bowing low to avoid looking her in the eye. “However, I believe the rostari may be able to leave him with nothing more than scars. After a while, at least. He did lose quite a lot of blood.”

  Marie cursed, shifted her weight, and cursed in a different language. “Well, go get cleaned up. I’ll let you know what happens.”

  “Yes, Captain.” He kept looking at the floor, waiting for the inevitable reproof. It had been his responsibility to keep Peter safe, and he’d failed. Worse, he’d volunteered for the position of leader, rather than wait for her to suggest he take the role. He’d promised Marie that he wouldn’t allow any harm to come to the group. And he’d failed.

  She touched his shoulder, making him stand straight and look at her. “Good job out there, samurai. You acted without hesitation. Well done.”

  Razan stared blankly at her, wanting to object. But contradicting his captain wasn’t possible.

  “Now go home,” Marie ordered, stepping away. “Nop! Take me to my cowboy.”

  Razan moved to the door as Marie vanished in a flash of blue light.