We got back to my bedroom where the three fish were waiting with the comatose Jack. I paused to inspect the SongLuminant recorder. Looking at it more carefully, it didn’t seem quite alive. It was pretty convincing, though. I suppose it was made to play on our fears of bizarrely tentacled aliens. Somehow, the idea of a species of glowy bubbles fails to strike fear into the human heart.
Whirljack stood up suddenly. At the same time, fish three twitched into life. The two Jacks reached for each other, clasping hands that dissolved into blue light. I’ve witnessed a number of your transformations, but the strangest one is when two brothers merge into one mothman.
And you folded yourself into yet another human form, one I had never seen before. A blonde, bearded man with an inquisitive face and a bit of Ailann’s natural dignity.
“I’m Lucius,” he said.
“So?” said fish three.
He closed his eyes. For a moment, his outline seemed to become slightly blurry, and then he started to glow. I could only stare, but Clive took a step towards him. He bent forward, peering at Lucius, and then made a grab for the new emanation’s arm. Lucius pulled back. “Don’t touch.”
“Ah. I’ll disturb the bubbles. But I’m not hearing anything. Is the frequency out of the human range?”
“No,” said Lucius. “I don’t need sound to produce cavitation bubbles. I can just create them with alchemy and use nul-energy to make them oscillate properly.”
“Why?” said the fish. “Why did you do this?”
“Because I was curious. I wanted to see what it was like to be you. I have to admit that I still haven’t got the hang of thinking with these things – or of tapping into their unique potential.”
For a moment, Lucius and the fish met eyes. Then they both started to glow in a series of rhythmic pulses.
“I think we’re about done here,” said the fish. It slapped a fin against the odd recording device, which seemed to slither a little. It hissed suddenly and loudly, causing me to jump back. Then it spat out two transparent bubbles.
The head fish belched contentedly, spewing green vapor into the room. “Two,” it said. “That means there’s a copy for you. That means you pass. I’m so happy. Erasure is a pain in the gills.”
“Thanks,” said Lucius, poking at the bubble tentatively. He jumped back, startled. “It instantaneously communicated its contents. Try it.”
Gingerly, I poked the bubble. Then I had to resist my urge to punt the fish to Rotifer. The unbelievable arrogance of these things!
I had to admit the technology was impressive. Creepy, but impressive. The entirety of the SongLuminant report was transcribed directly into my brain. The bubble had worked like a memchip – but the information was not lost when I removed my finger from the bubble.
The head fish blinked several times in rapid succession. “Oh,” it said, “I’m back. Hello. I’m Phhhhhhhhhhhhhnnnv, the real Phhhhhhhhhhhhhnnnv. Sorry we had to trick you there. Well, we’ll be on our way, but we’ll be in touch. You understood the business about guardianship, right? You’re taking over responsibility for humankind.”
“Yay!” shouted the two other fish. They were positively gleeful. I’m not sure how I should feel about that.
“From now on, the Nau’gsh will have responsibility for monitoring the human species. Try to give them a little push in the right direction, and if it all goes plankton-shaped, erase them.”
“I don’t intend to let it get to that,” croaked Lucius.
“And just a few quick words of advice. Are you sure you won’t consider dumping the bimbo? You could really go far.”
“No,” said Lucius, rather tersely. “Surely, a non-fanatical species such as yourselves can afford to indulge us in our worldview?”
“You learn the game quite fast. Except that you probably thought the SongLuminants would spare you if you became one of their own. I’m telling you, they’re not sentimental. They’re only impressed by ability. The other thing is that Lorcan, what a card! That why-God-why act deserves a stand-up show. By the way, if you hadn’t guessed, the reason the Brrrrrrrrrrrrvvbh passed was our sense of humor. +11, which means we beat the SongLuminants. There wasn’t a dry bubble in the house, not that there would be. That’s why we got stuck with, that is, got assigned to humanity. Well, time to swim!”
“Love you, bye!” shouted the fish. And then they vanished.
“Wait,” says Clive. “Was that all some kind of unbelievably sophisticated holographic projection, or do they have teleport technology?”
“They were solid enough when I kicked them,” I said, “but teleportation would explain how they got past SSOps. Still, I’ve never heard of them using it.”
“That’s because it’s impossible,” says Clive. “You’d need to shove a living creature through a mini-wormhole. And the amount of energy you’d need…”
“Cuinn says he’s working on it,” says Lucius. “Also, that the fish probably wouldn’t reveal something they thought humanity could use to make trouble.”
“So why show us now?”
Lucius sighed. As he did, thousands of tiny bubbles burst, dispelling their radiance. “Because you’re not their problem anymore. You’re mine.”