Section 4 of 4 - The Dive
Part 11
With a wave to those still on board the PT ship Ju’Throttle; Ne’moh and Um’Kai slipped over the side of the rowing-boat and into the wine dark sea.
The safety equipment was not for Um’Kai, it was for Zee'zoo and Ka’men St’eiff - Ka’men replaced Zee'zoo's brother, it was a rule not to risk close family in the same dive; Ne’moh had his own diving equipment that he had brought with him to the kybytz.
Apart from a cloth about his middle and Ja’Layn's monitoring devices; Um’Kai was naked. A pack on his back was meant to bring him to the surface - it would activate if he stopped moving.
Now, below the rowing-boat, Ne’moh monitored Um’Kai's blood-sats, having switched Um’Kai onto a helium-oxygen mix; they drifted there for fifteen minutes. At last satisfied that detectable nitrogen was out of Um’Kai's circulation; Ne’moh turned Um’Kai upside down, in order to get the intestinal gas out of his system.
Above, Dur'ee was first to spot the bubbles.
Then, it was time for Um’Kai to get the air out of his lungs; Ne’moh took the breather away from Um’Kai, and waited. Bubbles of air eased out of Um’Kai's mouth and nose, until he was now breathing water. Um’Kai could feel the change in his torso, as his lungs contracted; but a flap at the back of his throat opened and his K'Stow gills - fibrous fronds that had atrophied to a fibrous sac that protected the lungs in other Q'ono'ssian peoples - unfolded into the cavity space.
This trait, that had remained strong in the K'Stow, was not a true replacement for their air breathing lungs. The trait was recessive, or at least it is better to say that the branch of heritage represented by other Q'ono'ssians was statistically more likely to be passed on.
Ne’moh tested Um’Kai's hearing.
"I do not trust Ja’Layn," Ne’moh said.
Um’Kai reacted with surprise. He signed 'Why?'
"I can hear it in his voice," Ne’moh said.
Um’Kai made the sign for family with one hand - the fingers down forming a shape like a roof with the back of the hand, knuckles at the top; he pointed to Ne’moh and then upwards.
With a look of sadness that only a child could manage, even in a diving-mask, Ne’moh said, "I remember the stories of Zhark. The Klinzhai murdered not only many of my Ku'Layn and Kat'Anna family, but also ordinary Klingons who tried to protect them."
Um’Kai put a hand on Ne’moh's shoulder; they exchanged the look of understanding.
They felt a tug on the guide rope.
"Drop time," Ne’moh said.
Ne’moh locked Um’Kai onto the plumb, and let him drop.
Part 12
The rhodanobacteria that gave Great Ocean her pink hue existed in the first two-hundred cams of water; they used nutrients in the seas and photosynthesis for their biological processes.
Exiting that layer the sea below became dark, and the sea above gradually darkened becoming purplish and then darker still.
A thump and Um’Kai came to a stop: Intermediate Drop Stage; One and a Half kellicams.
Guided by Ka’men to the barely lit platform, Um’Kai waited patiently as Ka’men checked the equipment. The two rad-clickers were doing nothing interesting and the other pieces showed no sign of failure. Ka’men checked Um’Kai's blood gas with a probe down his throat: nominal.
Um’Kai could feel the burn in his lungs as they began to complain about the build-up of carbon-dioxide in his blood. His muscles were still fine at the moment.
Ka’men tapped his own head. In reply, Um’Kai tapped his own head.
Ka’men locked Um’Kai onto the plumb, and let him drop.
Um’Kai could hear singing. He looked about in the gloom. A zhark approached him, its eyes adorned by parasitic jewellery. Um’Kai did not panic: his heart had already slowed down considerably; fifteen beats per second now; vaso-dilation limited by lack of nitrous oxide, but blood-flow aided by vessel peristalsis - the myo-vesicle pulse of his circulation system.
The zhark circled him, sensing his electricity and scent; of the sea and not of the sea. Nothing tasty. It was not hungry, it cruised away.
The pressure of water was forcing the straps of Ja’Layn's equipment into his skin; Um’Kai took his time slowly loosening them.
Cold now.
A thump and Um’Kai came to a stop: Free-Dive Drop Stage; Three kellicams.
In his eyes, the ultra-violet sensitive receptors began to react to the lack of visible light, Zee’zoo's skin slightly glowed in patches, just as his own skin did; fluoro crystals in their epithelial scales responding to collisions from electrons lazily fizzing about in the water.
Zee’zoo tapped his own head. In reply, Um’Kai tapped his own head.
Zee’zoo unlocked Um’Kai from the guide, and let him loose.
There was nothing now: No light above, no light below.
The K'Stow had been the allies of the Klinzhai for centuries. They gave the Klinzhai that clarity of vision, that ability to plan. The K'Stow did not have the normal Q'ono'ssian way of seeing things, of seeing words, of tasting colours, of visualisation of ideas.
The psychologists called their ability "internal dialogue"; the ability to think without the interference of senses.
A Kat'Anna could stab someone, but he would feel that knife entering his own body as if it was really happening to him.
Insult the friend of a Ku’Layn, and that Ku’Layn would feel that insult as deeply as if he himself had been insulted.
Tell a Klingon that you have slept with his wife, he does not hear the words:
HE SEES WHAT YOU HAVE DONE AND NEEDS TO REACT THEN AND THERE.
But, a K'Stow needed to see in the sea darkness;
if they had had a neurophysiological trait that interfered with their vision then that would have been life-threatening.
Other Q'ono'ssians found the K'Stow cold, like the physh of the seas.
And, was it that that was what was the problem with Annette, then?
Did she see him as cold? Or, was he just an entertaining freak ...
Why would she do this to me?
How could she do this to me?
What is this?
This depth of despair?
This depth? This death?
This crushing feeling.
This crushing.
This crush ...
This crush ...
Thump!
Um’Kai felt something. Something metallic. Old and metallic. His fingers felt the shape. The rad-clickers on each of his wrists were doing nothing. He felt an indentation in the metal. Three, no five characters: Eh'Ku'Shon Bu-Pay. It was the derrick from one-hundred and fifty years ago.
Torn from its foundations by ... by whatever was down here.
He had hit bottom, but not the bottom of the Abyss: He was on a shelf.
With his negative buoyancy, it was relatively easy to walk to the edge.
He looked down.
There was light there.
A rad-clicker clicked at his wrist: He held his left hand out over the Abyss; the clicking faded. He turned around. His chest was tightening. And, his thoughts were growing sluggish. Layers of complexity were being stripped away, leaving only the basic animal instinct behind.
And, this animal was happy where it was.
Um’Kai was incapable of telling whether the anoxia or carbon-dioxide build-up was causing him to feel this way, but other parts of his mind were fixed on a purpose.
These are your senses, feel them click, they are feeling your way to your prey, follow them, bring your prey back to the village, feed them, protect them.
Annoyingly, something on his back was tugging at him, Um’Kai wriggled free.
He trudged through the darkness, feeling as if he was lightly bouncing. Boing. Boing.
He felt fantastic.
Bubbles began to appear all about him.
"Hello," a beautiful woman smiled at him.
"Hello," he smiled back.
"I am Sylla Kuoros. Who are you?"
"I am Zwhacked." That wasn't right. "I am Zharf Whark." Near enough.
"Hello, Wharf," Sylla smiled, "take my hand."
Um’Kai reached out to her, and she took a hold of him.
Her touch stung momentarily, but then he felt even better. She pulled him along easily.
She walked across the meadow, with its golden flowers and green grass; pulling Um’Kai along like a balloon behind her.
"Are you my friend?" Um’Kai asked Sylla.
"Always, love."
Something nagged at Um’Kai. "You said it was off with us?" he said petulantly, and pouted.
"No. I would never have to break my word with you. We have no agreements, you and I. What we have is something unspoken, an understanding, something special."
"But, my father said ..."
"Maybe, you and your father have mistaken who the message is for? You don't have to make peace with a true friend; not even if you argue and fight with that friend."
Um’Kai thought about it. Tried to think about it.
Her voice was so beautiful though; he was inclined to agree with everything she said.
A lovely little house was in the golden field.
"Is this your house?" Um’Kai asked Sylla.
"No," said Sylla.
"Is this my house?" Um’Kai asked Sylla.
"No," said Sylla. "We have visitors, go inside."
His wrists started prickling at him madly and flashes appeared in his eyes.
Then, everything went black.
Part 13
Um’Kai became aware of having received several blows to the face;
he put his hand to his head and felt his jaw as he breathed in the stale air.
Air?
He looked around.
"Ullo?" Um’Kai said quizzically.
There was something he was meant to do. He looked around.
"Ooh, sooo shiny. Shiny, shiny, shiny."
"Shut up, woman. I'm trying to think ... You have a nice voice. I need to sit down."
An overhead light came on, and little lights in the floor ran towards a chair.
Um’Kai crawled along the floor, following the lights and giggling loudly.
He hauled himself up and slumped in the chair. He looked out the window.
Something ... something there ... something ... He had to do something.
"Where are my friends?" Um’Kai whined and stuck his lips out.
On the sea, there were craft surrounding (at a distance) a large boat.A screen lit up showing a multi-spectral display of the area around the cliff face. There were many vehicles parked on the cliff, some quite large. A group of smaller bodies were contained in an area surrounded by larger bodies who held cold tubes with little hot bits. There were craft in the air.
His brain recognised the shape of the Ju'Throttle. He clapped his hands.
"Annie's butt! Annie's butt!" He smiled. Then, he frowned. "I hate her."
He looked closer. "Who's that? It's too small."
The resolution changed, the screen focussed in on the boat and there was more detail.
"Ah, the kids. They are such good mates. I've got a good mate. He's my cousin. So, you know, he's family and all that kerk. But, we have such great fun."
Um’Kai looked at the screen. One of the smaller shapes extended a hand to a taller shape, who then appeared to be looking at something. His own right arm was hurting so much, his left felt okay. Tracking Um’Kai's eye movement, the computer tracked in to the figure on the screen.
"Oh, that's him. That's Kryten. Oh, he's great. You'd like him. Everybody likes him. He likes cool stuff like this."
Um’Kai's eyes welled-up. "Yes. I wish he was here."
Part 14
Just as those of the Clan Kat'Anna could "see" words; the Ku'Layn could "see" numbers, or more precisely they could see images and shapes representing equations.
So, when spirals and tracks appeared in Kryten's eyes, he was not at first alarmed. However, when his vision became obscured and Ne’moh & Dur'ee disappeared in a fog of bright fire-flies, he did feel rather disconcerted. But, what drove him into panic, was watching the canvas he held in his hands dissolve before his very eyes. His eyes dissolved, also.
The boat and crew, red sea and pink sky, the Klingon launches; it all disappeared.
And, then, as the fire-flies receded, he found himself in a cramped space (at two cams in height, the cabin was not enough for him) with gleaming surfaces and dark display panels with primary colours. And, there were physhes on the floor, most of which were dead and decaying, though some were still alive, barely.
He heard giggling, and then staggered back as a figure jumped on him.
"Oh, you lovely, lovely man. With your cute Ku'Layn keister. I love you, man."
Kryten supported Um’Kai's weight.
"Wharf ... Rhod'un'he Um’Kai Zhark'Stow. It is good to see you," he said. "After your retrieval float surfaced ... we thought ... It is good to see you."
Kryten could tell Um’Kai really was not listening to him.
"Hello ... Computer?"
Kryten shifted Um’Kai's weight onto a shoulder, and walked him to a seat.
"Come on, big physh. You've done some very good work, but you need to rest."
"I did good job?"
"More than you know, my cousin ... Or that you can tell at the moment."
"Will you tell her? Will you tell Annette what I did?"
"Once your head clears, you can tell her yourself, if you still want to."
"The message wasn't for us, Kryten. It wasn't for the K'Stow. Sylla said so."
Kryten raised a brow. "Sylla?" he noted.
Settling Um’Kai onto an acceleration couch, Kryten looked around.
"Computer: What permissions do I have?"
"I'm guessing that was you explaining in Salvage Mode that I am allowed access to processes in Salvage Mode for salvage and recovery purposes."
"Can you send me, my friend or both of us back to land using your ... Transport?"
"Survival Mode! That's not good. Obviously if you have weapons, I can't access them?"
"Do you have a distress system? The capability to emit a flare?"
Kryten smiled and unfurled the canvas; he looked at Ne’moh's latest work.
Epilogue
"The Open Wharf" was the new kat'anna character entered into the "Great Book of Clans".
The traditional humped symbol for a bridge with two arches below, had been combined by Ne’moh Kat’Anna K’Stow with a series of waves - presenting the appearance of a decorated bridge; and at either side of the wave-bridge was an arrow.
The "flare" that was sent up formed "The Open Wharf" character in the sky above the tableau of Klingon forces besieging the renegade group who had gone against all clan compacts and contracts: The Renegades had given themselves over to the needs of a Few over the needs of the Many.
But, in doing so, the needs of that Few had served the needs of the Many.
Soon afterwards, the K'Stow withdrew from Great Qontinent.
A few remained behind, those who had duties and obligations to other Clans, Houses and Families. The Great K'Stow Pool had chosen to reconnect with what had always been the source of their heritage, the origin of life on Q'ono'S; they went to the Great Ocean.
And, the ship, the ship that came from a distant star, was taken into the Protection of the Klinzhai.
