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I just needed to concentrate on what was coming up next.
I’d finished the last piece of bacon when I found Marcus and Donna in the dock room. Marcus was standing behind a crane-looking operating deck, using a mechanical arm to pull out one of the tactimetal suits out for me to wear, and Donna was on the floor waving her hands, spotting him, until the suit’s feet touched the ground and it was balancing on its own. I took a step forward to inspect it, surprising her, and she startled, jumping back.
“No sudden movements dockside!” Marcus shouted, as he climbed down from his perch.
“Sorry,” I told Donna.
She shook it off. “It’s not your fault. This room just creeps me out.”
“It technically shouldn’t exist, so I can’t imagine why,” I said, giving her a slight smile. I squinted toward the water, trying to spot where my ring had fallen, but I couldn’t see it anymore. It was fitting that it’d been swept out to sea. “Thanks for the bacon.”
“I figured if you were going to touch a kraken and all, you might need some energy,” she said with emphasis, as her lips curved up into a sly smile.
“If any of them are TV doctors, I’ll let you know,” I said with a snort, and she gave a dark chuckle.
“All right, back it up,” Marcus announced, beginning to wheel a contraption over. It looked like an electric chair from a haunted house, with leather restraints halfway up the arm rests and front legs. “I was up all night building this thing,” he complained, bringing it to the edge of the black watery square, before crooking his finger for me to come forward.
“And it is . . . ?” I prompted, without moving.
“For you. Keeps you still for the bonding. Can’t have you toppling forward into the water halfway through. You’ll need to cuff your pants up.”
I continued to inspect it from afar. “This looks more like I’m being sacrificed.”
“For science. Sexy, sexy science,” Donna deadpanned.
I stared at the thing. If I didn’t know that the find of the century was out there in the salty depths, I never would’ve done it—it would’ve been too weird, too fast.
But I looked down at the empty ring-finger on my left hand, and my half of a heart tattoo that would never match anyone else’s again.
I had nothing left to lose.
I moved to the front of the chair and sat down quickly, tugging up my pants and sleeves.
“That’s my girl!” Donna whooped, as Marcus moved to strap me down.
Marcus was careful not to extend any part of his own body over past the red laser square while he tied me, and he was finished he pushed the whole chair down so that my knees were just an inch or so away from it.
“Have you done this before?” I asked him, as he started to step away.
“No. But I’ve read the handbook.”
“There’s a handbook?” I asked, my voice rising. “Why didn’t I get to read the handbook?” I started, but then something came out of the deep toward me.
I could make out a massive figure floating on the water’s far side. My heart jumped into my throat and my bladder considered emptying.
“Oh no,” I said. “No, no, no—I’m not ready?—”
“The handbook said you’d say that!” Marcus shouted, from a safe distance back. “Just try to relax! Don’t fight it!”
I turned back to look over my shoulder at him. “Fuck your handbook!” I shouted, just as something firm, cold, and slippery touched my right hand and then wound about my wrist. I shrieked, and I would’ve jumped the chair away if it weren’t so heavy.
It was one of the kraken’s tentacles. It was dripping wet, and just as frigid as the sea it’d come from. Why wasn’t he—or she!—using their hands? They had hands, right? I squinted, trying to see through the dark water, to make sure I wasn’t being fondled by some other random-ass sea creature.
I panted in fear, then checked over my mind. I still felt alone—which was right—because I was alone—which was why I was down here, doing stupid things in the name of science—oh-my-God—two more tentacles pushed through the barrier, each looping one of my ankles.
“The handbook says you need four points of contact for the bonding to occur!” Marcus shouted from his much safer perch behind me.
“Again, and I mean this truly, fuck your handbook!” I shouted back, this time without turning away from the ocean. “English tea sets. Small white dogs. English tea sets. Small white dogs,” I started hissing to myself in a protective susurration as I saw the final tentacle come through. It looped around my left wrist and I found myself completely immersed in dark water.
