The Tears of the Myrr

.:2:.

Slowly, Clime opened his eyes. He had a headache, and when he moved, he felt dizzy. He grabbed his head, and realized he wasn’t wearing his helmet. When the world stabilized again, he looked around. He was lying on a narrow bed, and was in a stone cell. The air was moist and condensed on the cold walls. He could only see an iron gate.
A bit unstable on his feet, he walked to the gate. The place was lit with the same fluorescing light as the temple. His brains tried to register what he saw. He could see the low ceiling and the rough walls of the corridor outside his cell. Worn relief was cut out in the stones. Fish, waves, symbols, and strange letters. He looked around in disbelief.
No doubt about it. He was in Atlantis.
He heard a sound next to him and blinked. He was imprisoned, but not alone. He heard the cries and voices, and they sounded familiar. “Yvonne Tennant!”

The crying stopped, and he heard Todd yell his name. “You’re alive!”

“Are you all here?” Clime asked.

The voices started to talk through each other. Clime heard what happened.

Suddenly, a stern voice yelled, “Taves!”

They went silent as a man walked by. Clime looked at him. The man had to be a guard, or a jailer. He was large and muscled. He was armed. He was wearing a short tunic with a small harness, leather sandals, and metal shin protection. His underarms were covered with metal bands. It almost looked Roman.

Clime frowned. Atlantis shouldn’t be Roman… Then he saw the weapons, and he grinned. Besides a short sword, he saw a small automatic gun on the belt of the jailer. Oh yes, Roman… But not entirely.

The man walked at the gate. “Nas kirk nes lneh!” he yelled.

Clime looked calmly at him. “I look at you. At your gear and armory.”

The man was intrigued. “Skel nes ej?”

Clime shook his head.

The man laughed, and said, “Nes skel ej!” He shook his head in disbelief and walked away.

The diver watched him leave. No, he didn’t understand his language. But he knew what he meant. He walked back to his bed and tried to get out of the suit on his own.

*

He woke up with a shock. He had fallen asleep on his suit, but now a cacophony of voices sounded through the stone rooms. The crew of the Atlantic is awake, he thought annoyed.

“Taves!”

It took a few angry ‘taves’ before the crew shut up. The guard reached Clime’s door and opened it.

“Stah nes, go glov ej,” he said calmly.

Clime saw the cuffs. He offered him his wrists, and the man smiled when he cuffed him. “Lyg. Ragg lneh nes skab.”

Clime walked to the others, and found them, cuffed up, in the corridor. He winked at Todd, who didn’t look as scared when he saw him.

Two other guards stood in front of them. Their jailor walked to them and whispered something, while he pointed at Clime. They showed no emotion.

“Lyg!” yelled one of the guards. “Glov ej!”

The prisoners started to walk. Chris walked with her nose in the air, proud as always. They passed through stone corridors, all decorated with relief. They reached a few heavy doors. Two servants in rich clothes pushed the high, decorated doors open. A man, dressed in a long ceremonial dress, walked to them. He talked to one of the guards, and led the prisoners inside. They followed meekly.

They walked over a smooth floor. Marble, inlaid with mosaic. The hall was huge. The high ceiling was supported with marble columns, each entwined with green plants. At the left and the right, men and women were watching them. They were dressed in beautiful clothes and pearls. They whispered and pointed at the prisoners.

A guard walked towards the crew. “Nikal,” he snarled.

Clime knelt and the others followed his example. In front of them, they could see a platform on top of broad stairs. On that, they saw a throne with an old man. Long dresses and capes, draped in complicated folds, gave the impression this man didn’t have to move much. They assumed he was the king.

The master of ceremonies spoke with a clear voice. Clime looked around. The hall was open at the opposite side, and could see a garden. It surprised him to see the beautiful green plants and colorful flowers. The garden was lit with a bright light of an unknown source.
Inside, the place was lit with fire in large shells. There were drapes everywhere; thin cloths in all shades of blue and green. They looked like waves.
Relief could be seen everywhere. Shells, stars, anemones, and fish. And pearls. Hundreds, thousands of pearls, hanging from the ceiling.

Another man stepped forward. He knelt in front of the king, and then approached the prisoners. They stared at him when he started to speak in fluent English. “My name is Steve O’Reilly. I’m here since 1968, when my submarine has been taken down. I’m their sattlor now, their interpreter. I’ll guide you during your stay here.”

The king mumbled something. The man fell on his knees and Chris snorted. She hated crawlers.

Suddenly, the hubbub silenced. The doors had been opened and two heavily armed men stepped in. The present company moved a bit, almost in panic. The master of ceremony walked quickly to the new men, and spoke a few words. Then he called out, with trembling voice, “Raki go fyri, rungg Halfmyrr!”

Sattlor O’Reilly turned white and everybody fell on his knees. Only the king stayed upright, but he didn’t look too happy at all. O’Reilly mumbled, “Quick, close your eyes! You’ll be cursed when you look at the prince!”

The crew stared at each other, and shrugged. As they refused to close their eyes, they saw what scared the inhabitants of the undersea world; prince Halfmyrr.

The prince paced along the prisoners. He was a tall figure, with very long, wavy hair. At the right, his hair was blond, but the left side had green and blue streaks. He greeted the king with a bow, and then turned.

The crew waited anxiously, but it wasn’t bad at all. The man seemed young, and he was dressed in long robes. He was armed with a dagger and an automatic gun. A long cape covered the complete left side of his body. A high collar hid his neck. And even the face was half covered, with a mask, modeled to fit his face.

Clime held his breath. This was the idol… He looked him straight in the visible eye. It was green. It looked tense.

The master of ceremony ordered another throne and the rungg took place. The crowd looked up again, but didn’t make a noise anymore. No one looked at the rungg.

The masked man observed the prisoners and beckoned the sattlor. O’Reilly walked to him with his eyes down, and listened to him. He turned to the prisoners and said, “This is rungg Halfmyrr, prince of Dybvande, son of sorrh Ihjel, king of Dybvande.”

“Dybvande?” said Chris.

“Yes, they don’t call it Atlantis. Dybvande means ‘deep water’.”

Halfmyrr whispered something to the king, who nodded at him. One of the lifeguards held an open box in front of his prince. Halfmyrr took something out and started to talk. The interpreter did his job.

“This has been found in the temple of the… Of the Myrr.” He shivered. “The rungg wants to know who put it there.”

The crew recognized the diamond and looked at Clime.

“Ej, rungg Halfmyrr,” said the diver, bowing his head respectfully.

A loud murmur filled the room. The prince leaned forward. “Nes?” he asked. “Morh deh nes?”

Clime bowed his head deeper. “Ej deh Clime Hackley, rungg Halfmyrr sa Dybvande.”

The crew stared at him. “What the… Don’t tell me you have a degree in this language as well?” said Chris.

Clime looked at her. “I can listen, and I learn quickly,” he said.

The prince interrupted them. “Lyg lneh ej, Clime Hackley.”

Clime stood up before the sattlor could translate, and he walked to the prince. He knelt in front of the throne.

Halfmyrr gave him the chain back. Clime took it in his cuffed hands and played with it, while he thought deeply. Then he said, “I offer you the diamond again. Out of love and admiration.”

With hesitation, Halfmyrr stuck his hand to him. Clime shook his head. He pointed at the hidden hand.

“That’s the hand I offered it to. I offer it to that hand again.”

O’Reilly translated it for the watching Dybvander, and protests filled the air until the prince shouted, “Taves!”

Everybody bowed their head. Even the king turned away.

Halfmyrr took his cape and threw it back over his shoulder. He extended his left hand. It was green scaled and had long, thick nails. Clime saw the membranes between the fingers.

While the crew watched in bewilderment, Clime placed the diamond in the green hand. He knotted the chain around it. He folded the hand around the pendant, and kissed the fingers. They weren’t cold, as he expected. He let him go, bowed once more, and returned to his place. He ignored the glances of the others.

Halfmyrr covered his hand again. One of his guards whispered something to him, and he stood up. Without looking at the people, he walked out of the room, followed by his guards. One of them grinned at Clime.

When the doors closed, the Dybvander relaxed visibly. The king mumbled an order and the prisoners were pulled on their feet.

Their jailor waited for them at the cells.

Chris was the first to say something, when they were all locked up again. “Hackley, you moron! What were you thinking?”

Clime didn’t answer. Yvonne yelled, “It’s your fault if they kill us! It’s your fault they captured us! If you didn’t put that stupid chain in a temple, we wouldn’t even be here!”

Daniel soothed her. “Come on, this is Atlantis! They sink boats for centuries already. It has nothing to do with Clime. We found what we wanted, didn’t we?”

Yvonne sniffed that knowledge wouldn’t be of any value when they were dead.

“Clime,” asked Chris, “Why did you give that chain, anyway?”

But Clime didn’t hear her. He had fallen asleep on his suit.

*

After a short period of sleep, the prisoners were woken up again. The jailor brought them breakfast. It looked like a beverage, porridge, and some seaweed. Clime looked at it. “What is it?” he asked, when he took the tray.

The jailor grinned. He pointed at the bowls and said, “Sjose, mussh, go hummr. Keri, tersard!”

Clime understood the last sentence: ‘tasty, eat’. He ate and had to admit it, it was very tasty. He finished every crumb and drop.

After a while, the man returned. He took the empty plates and bowls and observed him.

“Nes skel ej, tetsel?” he said.

Clime shook his head. “No, but I do understand you.”

The man pointed at himself. “Ej deh Cyphel.” He pointed at Clime. “Rov reh nes?”

Clime said his name and saw the man turn quickly. Before Clime realized what happened, Cyphel had drawn his gun. He lowered it, but didn’t put it away. He walked to O’Reilly and spoke angrily. Then he left.

The sattlor cleared his throat. “Who is in charge?”

“I am,” said Chris. “I am Chris Bacon.”

“Very well. You’re all crew of a ship, I presume?”

Chris confirmed, and introduced the others. “We were looking for Atlantis. We were investigating the ruins, when they captured us.”

O’Reilly nodded. “Atlantis was once a beautiful country, but that’s a long time ago. Nowadays, the descendants live under the sea bottom. I’ll try to explain it to you. For some reason, the Atlantics decided to live under the sea bottom, instead of looking for new land, when Atlantis sunk. Diving bells weren’t good enough, so they connected the caves in the bottom, made them watertight, and pumped them dry. Some kind of air-conditioning takes care of oxygen and the right pressure.”

His public listened in awe.

“Four countries have been built like this; Dybvande is the oldest and largest. Then there are Obannsten, Nesvleh, and Skuddoh. Dybvande has seven major cities. They let ships and planes crash and sink, and use them as building material. The crew is enslaved.”

“What’s wrong with the prince?” asked Daniel.

The sattlor looked around to ensure they were alone. “Rungg Halfmyrr is the link between humans and Myrr. Myrr are sea-people. They look like reptiles. Don’t speak about them; they have been cursed.”

“What will happen to us now?” asked Chris.

Steve didn’t know. “Normally, you’ll be used as slaves, to build in the caves. But your diver might have changed that.”

Yvonne started to cry. “See? Now they’ll kill us! And it’s Clime’s fault!”

Cyphel interrupted them by walking in. He had brought one of the lifeguards of the prince with him. The guard was dressed beautifully, but was also heavily armed. He was tall, blond, and handsome. His gray eyes were deceitfully calm. He looked like a pike. They walked straight to the last cell, ignoring the others.

“Clime,” said Cyphel, “Od reh Livvreme.” He opened the cell, and showed him the handcuffs. Clime let him put them on.

Livvreme looked at him. “Lyg,” he said. His voice was like velvet. He took Clime with him, and they left the prison.


Clime walked next to Livvreme through the corridors. The Dybvander spoke to him, and Clime understood he was brought to the prince.

Suddenly, Livvreme turned around, his gun drawn. After a second, they saw O’Reilly appear. He stopped when he saw the gun, and apologized with a deep, respectful bow. Livvreme ignored him and walked further.

“I thought I could be of service,” said O’Reilly to Clime.

Clime didn’t answer. Livvreme didn’t say anything anymore. It appeared to Clime that the sattlor wasn’t very popular with the guards.

After a long walk through a maze of deserted tunnels, the men arrived in a separate wing. Clime saw two massive looking, metal doors. The other lifeguard stood in front of them. The man looked like the dark opposite of Livvreme. Where Livvreme would calmly and minutely kill his opponent, this man would exhaust him first, to kill him slowly. He was a shark. “Ej deh Voggne,” he said with a deep voice to Clime. He looked angrily at the sattlor, but opened the doors.

Clime stepped in, and was stunned. The room was beautiful. The light marble gleamed in the artificial light. The columns were entwined with plants and pearls. The furniture was very strange in design. Only the sofa was pretty common, and covered in pillows.

Clime stepped further inside, and saw the different levels of the floor. It had several ponds in it, with small, lit fountains. The room had three walls and he could see other rooms, closed with doors or drapes. At the opposite side, he could see a garden. It was very exotic. Other buildings enclosed it.

The prince stood in front of the garden. He was looking outside, until Voggne announced the visitors.

Halfmyrr turned to the men. He was half-covered. He made a move with his head and Climes cuffs were removed. He spoke to the sattlor.

“I have to explain you why the prince is covered,” said O’Reilly to Clime. “He’s the link between the humans and the Myrr, as I told you. Half of him is Myrr. They have experimented with the semen of the prince for years now, and his offspring are the Myrr. They are cursed. The people are afraid of them.”

“Are you afraid of them?” asked Clime. “Do you believe they are cursed?”

O’Reilly stared at him, but Clime didn’t wait for an answer. He knelt respectfully in front of the prince. “The Dybvander should be proud of their prince. You are the living prove that the people can adapt to the life under water. They should honor you, not be afraid of you.”

“How can you say that?” burst O’Reilly out. “What do you know about life here?”

Voggne grabbed him and closed his hand over his mouth. As Halfmyrr nodded, he dragged the man with him and threw him out of the room. He closed the doors and leaned against them. Livvreme joined him. Clime knew he would be killed instantly when he made a wrong move. These predators loved their prince.

Rungg Halfmyrr sat on the sofa. He observed Clime for a while. Then he said softly, “Why?”

Clime’s jaw dropped. “You speak English?”

The prince laughed. “Of course. If that fool of O’Reilly can learn my language, I sure can learn his.”

The diver blushed. “So you have understood everything I said…”

“Answer me,” said the prince. “Why?” He pulled the chain from his neck with his human hand. “You’ve been imprisoned by the Myrr, after they saw you offering this to my statue. They loved what you did, and informed me immediately. They brought me the pendant. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have believed them. You are not afraid of me. Explain it.”

Clime looked at the visible part of the face. He wanted to say he though he was beautiful. The diamond only suited his beauty; he had looked for someone like him all his life. But he didn’t say it.

Halfmyrr frowned. “Clime, pour me kirde.”

Clime blinked. He wanted to ask what kirde meant.

“Nirg ej kirde, Clime,” said Halfmyrr sternly.

He realized the prince was testing him. He stood up, bowed lightly, and walked to a table with bottles. He chose one with a green liquid, and filled a glass.

Halfmyrr accepted the glass and nodded at him. “Nes vahr kherj, Clime,” he said softly. Then he made another gesture with his head.

The guards walked at Clime and took his arms. Voggne brought him outside, and let him sit in a hovercraft. He brought him back to the cell, without saying a word.


Rungg Halfmyrr sa Dybvande let his cape slide down. He hated the weight. He pulled the mask off his face. The cool air felt wonderfully. He wished he could always feel it on his face.
The people were afraid of him. Even his father rather saw him leave, but that was more because the queen had died at Halfmyrr’s birth. She had never seen him, and that was just as well.
Halfmyrr was the only heir to the throne. Sorrh Ihjel had more women, but none could become pregnant. Not many babies were born, down here.

A hand on his shoulder startled him up. Livvreme looked at him, worried. “Are you okay, Halfmyrr?”

The rungg sighed. Livvreme pulled him closer to him. “It’s that diver, isn’t it?” he asked.

“Yes. What do you think of him?”

“What is your plan?”

Halfmyrr closed his eyes and sighed again. He thought about the light eyes, the rough face. The man wasn’t scared at all, and that was refreshing. “Do you think he’ll be suitable for me?”

Voggne joined them. “What do you want from him, Halfmyrr?”

“I want to know if he’s suitable to be a servant. And more. Try to find out if he’s honestly not scared of me. Find out if he’s willing to stay voluntarily. And see how his feelings are for the rest of that ship.” He sniggered. “The Atlantic, go figure. Go now.”

He walked into the garden and bent to smell a flower. A strange feeling crept through his stomach when he felt the heavy pendant falling against his chest. Clime Hackley… His sigh trembled.


Voggne and Livvreme walked through the corridors to the prison. They walked slowly. Voggne kicked imaginary stones.

“What do you think about that sinker? That Clime?”

“Halfmyrr asked me the same,” said Livvreme. “And I didn’t answer him either.”

Voggne grinned. “I like him. He’s a rebellious stud.”

Livvreme looked down on him. “As always, you’re too fast with your opinion.”

The shark grabbed the tall man and pressed him against the wall. “Admit it, you’re glad I’m fast, aren’t you?”

“Voggne…” Livvreme tried to avoid the kiss. “Voggne! Halfmyrr gave us an assignment!”

“It can wait. That diver is going nowhere. I can’t wait.” He kissed the blonde again, slipping his tongue through the unwilling lips.

“Stop now, Voggne, I don’t want this. First we have to question that Hackley.” Livvreme struggled against the firm grip around his waist.

“You’re lying, Livvreme. Shut up and let me…”

Livvreme let him. Damn, he couldn’t resist Voggne. He surrendered. Clime could wait.

*

Cyphel opened the door and let his favorite prisoner out. They had been playing card games for hours, on either side of the gate. Clime felt a bit sorry to leave the cell.

He wasn’t cuffed, this time. He wouldn’t survive a fight with these two men and had nowhere to run. He didn’t want to fight, or run, and followed the two guards. They led him to a small room. He looked around. Moist black stones, a rough floor, and a low ceiling. Drops of condense were falling down occasionally.

Voggne pointed at a wet, wooden chair. Clime felt at the seat. It was overgrown with moss and he looked at his green fingertips. “Sorry, but I’m not going to sit down,” he said.

Voggne started to laugh. “Rebel!” he said in English. “What would you do if I forced you?”

“Send you the bill of the dry cleaner,” said Clime. He saw the men staring at him. “I would obey, of course,” he said. “But I would ask for another suit before I would see the prince again. He deserves more than a filthy prisoner to serve him.”

“Do you think you have to serve Halfmyrr?” asked Livvreme.

Voggne walked around the diver, and observed him carefully. Clime started to blush awkwardly. “Yes,” he said, trying to ignore the dark eyes.

“Why?”

“Would you object?” asked Voggne from behind his back.

“What do you want from me, exactly?”

“We’ll ask the questions, Clime,” said Livvreme. “Are you afraid of Halfmyrr?”

“Afraid? No, on the contrary. I thought I made that clear enough, already.”

“Would you like to serve him?”

“It’s the least I would want to do.”

Voggne grinned at him. He stopped walking around him. “What do you feel for your colleagues?”

“They aren’t colleagues,” Clime said with a thoughtful frown. “I don’t know them well enough to judge them.”

“So you wouldn’t object to be separated from them?”

“What will happen to them?”

“That’s none of your business. Would you object?”

“Yes. I know what you do to prisoners. They will be enslaved and have to build on your habitat.”

“Yes, and what’s that up to you?”

Clime sighed. “Listen. Miss Bacon is a terrible woman to work with, but she’s not bad. Stern is a good man, and the others are just friendly people. I don’t want them to work as slaves. Especially Todd. He’s special.”

“How special?” grinned Voggne. Livvreme kicked him and he shut up.

“We’ll take you back to your cell, Clime,” said Livvreme. “We’ll see what we can do.”

*

Clime was lying on his suit and stared at the ceiling. Halfmyrr; half human and half Myrr. His offspring were true Myrr, looking like reptiles. He was very curious to see them. He looked at the gate up when he heard the familiar ‘taves’ shouting through the prison.

Nobody opened his cell, but he could hear the other gates open. He heard footsteps. They wouldn’t be enslaved now, would they? “Todd!” he screamed. But he couldn’t hear anybody anymore. He was alone.

He sat on his bed for hours. The little cell pressed down on him, now that there were no voices. He had become accustomed to the conversations with the crew and Cyphel. He heard a door open and looked up, but he heard no voices. Only soft footsteps approached his cell. Livvreme appeared.

“Lyg, Clime, come with me.”

He walked out and followed the pike-man. He walked past the empty cells, and knew for certain he would never see them again.


Voggne was waiting for them. He grinned his usual fat grin, and looked Clime up and down. They didn’t enter the large rooms. Livvreme led him to another hall, and opened a door.

“Your rooms,” he said. “You’ll find everything you need to refresh yourself and dress properly. I’ll give you an hour.”

Clime was left alone. He waited for a while, and then tried the door. It wasn’t locked. He was no prisoner here.
He opened a cabinet and looked at the clothes. They were beautiful, richly embroidered gowns and drapes. It fit the surrounding. But it wouldn’t fit him.
He saw a filled bath in one of the corners. A commode was displaying shaving gear, brushes, and scissors. He looked in the golden mirror. He hadn’t shaven or washed for days. Time for a thorough restoration.

*

The crew entered a huge laboratory. Daniel held his breath when he saw the equipment. Chris groaned, and John and Pierre looked around in awe. Yvonne cried she wanted to go home. Todd stared through the glass roof into the sea. A scientist with a friendly face approached them. He made an inviting gesture and said cheerfully, “Welcome in the nursery of the Myrr!” As the crew merely started at him, he laughed. “The Myrr are born here. We help nature a little.” He slapped Daniel on a shoulder. “My name is Sogleh. I’m a forkner. Or in your language; a professor. And you are?”

They introduced themselves, and Chris said, “Sogleh, can you explain to us what we are doing here?”

“Miss Bacon, haven’t you been informed? You’ll work here!”

Chris turned white. “Work here?”

“Yes, I’m serious. Normally, sinkers are enslaved to work in the caves, but something saved you from that fate. Be grateful, because working at 3000ft depth is no picnic.” He slapped her on the shoulder. “Cheer up, you’ll like it here. Let me show you around.”

Daniel and Todd walked next to the cheerful man through the glass halls. The others followed meekly.

“The Myrr are born out of the semen of our prince, and ova of random women, who all work here. The civilians don’t want anything to do with the Myrr, and that’s a pity, because they’re beautiful and very gentle.” He led them through a glass corridor. “Outside, the Myrr swim freely. The have sluices at their disposal and can get in or out when they want to. You’ll meet them occasionally. But I trust that won’t be a problem to you.”

Daniel and Todd looked outside, in the hope to see a Myrr. But they could only see darkness, strange fish, and their own reflection.

After the tour, they were brought to the rooms. Three spacious rooms were set up for them. Sogleh left them behind, after he showed them the bathrooms and clothes.

Chris looked at the closed door. Yvonne locked herself in the bathroom, where she started to sob. Chris refused to change into the special clothes. She had discovered Atlantis. But the Atlantis she had been looking for had been dead. This was a living, developing habitat, with problems, pleasure, and people. She didn’t need that; she could have that at the surface.

The surface…

Many miles above her, there was a sky full of stars, waiting for her. With a moon and clouds. Sunshine, rain, wind. She missed it. For the first time, she wanted to join Yvonne, to plea for freedom. She couldn’t understand Daniel, who seemed to love this. And then there was Clime, who fell in love with the half-human prince the moment he saw him. The others would surrender to their fate.
She sighed. She was all alone.
A bell interrupted her thoughts. Dinner was ready. She would kill for French fries…

*

Clime looked at his reflection in the mirror. He had shaved. He tied his hair in a tail, instead of cutting it. He looked alright.

The clothes were unsuitable for him. He couldn’t be bothered with fashion, but the Dybvander clearly liked Roman influences. He didn’t see himself in a long dress and drapes, how historical and rich it may look. So he turned all the chests until he found tight, white pants, something that looked like a blouse, and black boots. He dressed, and altered the clothes where necessary. That was better. He looked like a pirate now.
He looked at the mess and cleaned the room before Livvreme came back.

The guard entered the room and froze. His jaw dropped. Clime turned to see if he missed something behind him, but it was him who caused his reaction. “Did you come to get me?” he asked.

“Eh– Yes.” He said something in his own language. It sounded like a curse. Then he blinked a few times. “Follow me, please,” he said softly.

Voggne wasn’t waiting in front of the doors. Livvreme opened them, and let the diver in. “Wait here,” he said. “Halfmyrr will join you soon.” He left him behind.

Clime looked around. The place was messy. He started to collect the glasses and straightened the pillows on the sofa. He folded a few clothes and drapes, and piled them neatly on a commode. He walked through the rooms. He straightened the drapes on the walls, and turned a few statues in a better angle. He pulled a few dead leaves of the plants around the columns. He turned to see the result.

“Good job,” he heard behind him.

“Rungg Halfmyrr! I–“

The prince silenced him with a raised hand. He stepped into the room. He was covered again. “Don’t apologize, Clime Hackley. Please, take a seat. I want to talk to you.”

He sat on the sofa, and Clime pulled some sort of chair closer. He sat down.

The man looked amused. “You’re sitting on a very expensive and famous piece of art, now,” he grinned. “Please, sit down,” he said when Clime jumped up. “Sit down, Clime, you look as amazing as the art itself.” Halfmyrr observed him a little better. “Don’t you like our fashion?”

“No,” said Clime. “I’m sorry.”

“Why? You look amazing.” He pulled his legs on the sofa and carefully folded the cape over his cursed side. “Pour me kirde. Take one yourself.”

Clime filled two glasses with the green liquid.

“It’s light alcoholic,” said Halfmyrr. “We drink it a lot. Some sinkers introduced beer to us, but that’s not to our taste. We can’t make it, either. This is made from sea weed.”

Clime tasted it. It was sweet, and at the same time spicy. It tasted good. “You’ve learned a lot from your prisoners,” said Clime.

“Yes, and they were very willing to teach us.”

“Why?”

The visible eye looked straight at Clime. “They were sensible. It meant a certain amount of freedom. Either they served us as slaves, or voluntarily.”

“Not much choice…”

“No choice, I’m afraid. They are used in either way.”

“Has O’Reilly voluntarily become a sattlor?”

“O’Reilly…” grinned the prince. “He’s another case. He had to be slave in a cave. But he understood our language, just like you. He started to translate what he heard. My father, sorrh Ihjel, hired him. He’s very content with him, but I don’t trust him.”

“Voggne and Livvreme don’t like him either. Neither does Cyphel.”

“No. It’s very different than in your case. How come you understand us so well? Do you know our language?”

“No, I don’t know what you say. But I understand what you mean. I’m good with languages.”

“Ej tern nes…”

“Sure. What does that mean?”

“You’ll understand soon enough.”

“Ej ter…”

“Ej tern nes. By the way, kirde means drinking. It has become a synonym.”

“I see…”

“Clime, normally sinkers don’t get a choice. But I want to make an exception for you. Choose, Clime Hackley. Stay, or leave.”

“I’ll stay,” said Clime without hesitation. “Of course.”

“Clime, paende, you are a strange man.” The visible green eye observed him. “Ej tern nes… but are you afraid of me?”

“Not at all.”

“I don’t believe you.” The prince sighed and turned his gaze away. “All my life, I have been avoided. Only my men, Livvreme and Voggne, are loyal to me. They protect me against the hate of the Dybvander. That’s not enough, Clime.” He looked at him again. “I would like to have a servant who isn’t afraid of me. I would… Oh, uhyre!” He sighed very deeply. “Prove me, that you’re not scared.”

Clime listened to him. When he was finished, he knelt in front of him. “There is something, that should be prove enough.” He moved his hand quickly, and pulled the pendant from under the clothes of the prince before the man could react. “This is the prove, Halfmyrr. I offered it to an idol. My whole life, I have been looking. I’ve been raised at the sea, in the ocean. It’s my home. When I saw the statue, I saw my idol. Remove your mask.”

Halfmyrr looked from the pendant to the diver. Then he lifted a hand. He unhooked the mask, and hesitated. Slowly, he lowered it.

Clime smiled. “You’re so beautiful, Halfmyrr. You’re half human, half sea-creature. You should be so proud of yourself.”

Halfmyrr pulled his cape away and threw it over the back of sofa. “The Dybvander consider me cursed. I know I’m the link. But as long as they don’t accept me, I can’t accept myself.”

“Halfmyrr, it’s the other way around. As long as you don’t accept yourself, you can’t expect people to accept you!”

Halfmyrr smiled. “You’re right, and I know. It’s not easy, Clime. I’m tired of fighting.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“No… No, go. I’ll call you when I need you. Walk around, Clime. Look around. I want you to feel at home.” He looked at him, and sighed, “Ej tern nes…”

*

It was a real palace, with treasures and works of art everywhere. Clime didn’t see any servants. The rooms were clean, but empty. Halfmyrr was alone, indeed. He met Voggne, during his stroll. The lifeguard grinned when he saw Clime.

“Clime Hackley! Paende!”

Clime smiled back. “What does that mean?”

“You can translate it as ‘beauty’,” grinned Voggne. “You look amazing in those clothes.”

“Your fashion doesn’t suit me.” He tried to ignore Voggne’s gaze. “Can you translate something else? What does ‘ej tern nes’ mean?”

The shark looked him in the eye. “Ej tern nes…” His smile was wider than ever. “Let put it this way, if Livvreme said that to me, I would grab him immediately.”

Clime blushed and the man laughed. “Who said that to you? Let me guess… Halfmyrr?”

Clime nodded. The guard was amused.

“Od tern nes, Clime. Pat od!”

“Stop it, Voggne.”

“Oh, you know exactly what I mean! And I bet you knew what Halfmyrr said to you, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t want to know.”

“You were right, Clime, Halfmyrr wants you to be more than a servant. But he wants to be sure about you, first.” He caressed Clime’s muscles. “I like you. And if the rungg didn’t want to have you, I would seduce you.”

“You’ve got Livvreme!” said Clime surprised.

“Oh yes, and I love him, as you call it. But it’s a bit different here, Clime. In Dybvande, you can marry who you want, and as many as you want. As long as love is involved.” He shrugged. “Until now, only Livvreme could please me. But don’t worry, you’re Halfmyrr’s. I won’t do anything to you.”

Clime was stunned, and continued his walk.

Voggne walked with him. “Do you think you can play servant?”

“Why not?”

“You don’t look like someone who obeys orders.”

“You’re wrong, Voggne.”

“Oh, I’m never wrong. I think you only obey Halfmyrr, and only because you like him.”

They walked in silence, for a while.

“Voggne,” said Clime eventually, “What happened to the others?”

“The crew? I don’t know. We told Halfmyrr what you said about them.”

“Are they slaves now?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t think so. Ask Halfmyrr…”

The diver nodded, but he knew he wouldn’t. He was afraid of the answer.

*

Daniel and Todd listened to Sogleh. He taught them a lot of words, which they would need for their work. They would make Myrr.

“Please remember, we’re dealing with living creatures here. We don’t cultivate plants, but Myrr. The children of our beloved prince” He lowered his voice. “I only trust you to do this work. It needs a lot of love and patience, and to be honest, the others don’t seem suitable.”

Todd nodded. “I’m afraid you’re right about that, Sogleh.”

“Do you really think so?” said Daniel.

“Do you see Yvonne working at the future of the Myrr? She only wants to go back to the surface. And Chris the same.”

“And John and Pierre are not suitable for this precision work, I’m afraid,” said Sogleh. “But they’re better than the ladies. We have other work for them.”

“When can we meet a Myrr?” asked Todd. “They’re around, aren’t they?”

“Oh yes, many of them.”

“When did you start with the experiments?” asked Daniel.

“Oh, let me think. Our rungg is about half a century now, and we started early…”

“The prince is 50? Earthy years?”

The forkner laughed. “Of course we count in earthy years. We don’t have night or day, but we use the same time. And 50 years is not old, as you can see on our rungg. He’s even very young, the average age is several hundred years, here.”

“How is that possible?”

“I don’t know. Pure air? How should I know? I do know sinkers don’t age as much as they would on the surface. That sattlor, for instance, he’s over 70 now. And can you tell?”

They stared at the professor, who laughed again.

“Life isn’t too bad here. But it’s good that we live so long, because we’re not very fertile. We have no explanation for it, but nature seems to be very selective. You won’t find poverty here, but that’s because only the rich can have children. Poverty has died. Even the sinkers are practically infertile here. The experiments have proved that.”

“You have experimented on prisoners?” said Daniel with disgust.

“You react as if we’ve committed a crime! It went the same as with you, either they worked in the caves, or here. Most women chose working here.”

“That’s disgusting!”

“Not at all. They didn’t have to do much. We tried to impregnate them and waited for the results. They were pampered and spoiled, but it didn’t work. No sinker has become pregnant of a Dybvander.”

“What about the Myrr?”

“The Myrr,” smiled Sogleh. “They are willing to be born. We were successful from the start. Forsta was born, followed by Anden. They are beautiful. After that, there was no stopping.”

The two men listened in awe.

“The Dybvander were jealous,” continued Sogleh. “The Myrr had no problems, while they couldn’t have children. Right after that, the Myrr were declared cursed.”

“And they still are…” said Daniel.

“Yes. The Dybvander have forgotten what the Myrr are, and are afraid of them now.”

“So, in fact the Myrr are not that scary at all.”

“Not at all. But through the years, we saw differences. Forsta and Anden look like the prince, but after that, they looked more and more like reptiles. The youngsters even have difficulty with breathing air. We’ve developed Myrr out of Forsta and Anden. The result is stunning. You’ve never seen Myrr as beautiful as them.”

“No,” remarked Todd. “We haven’t even seen an ugly Myrr yet.”

*

Clime walked through the rooms of the prince. He entered a large bathroom. The bath was a large, marble rectangle. He pulled a lever, and the warm water started to stream in, from all sides.
Besides the bathroom, Clime found the bedroom. It was a mess, clothes and capes everywhere. But it was beautifully decorated. The bed was round and soft, and covered with silky spreads. Pearls were hanging from the ceiling and there were plants everywhere. One wall was made entirely from glass. It was a huge aquarium, with brightly colored fish.
He turned to return to the bathroom, and saw a glass box on the wall. It was a 3D, of a green head. It was a real Myrr.

*

“Majesty?”

Halfmyrr turned in the warm water. “Don’t call me that, Clime. Use my name.”

“Halfmyrr, that 3D in your bedroom, is that a Myrr?” Clime was sitting on the edge of the bath, looking at Halfmyrr.

The prince didn’t seem to be bothered with Clime’s investigation. “Yes, that’s a Myrr.”

“Your offspring.”

“My oldest son, Forsta,” nodded Halfmyrr.

“He looks like you. That long hair, those eyes...”

Halfmyrr smiled. “Does he fit your dream image better?”

“Yes, but that doesn’t matter. You’re perfect.”

“Of course I am,” said Halfmyrr with a grin.

Clime splashed some water in his face. “Paende,” he said.

The prince laughed. “Ej kherj,” he said. He closed his eyes and leaned relaxed in the water.

“Halfmyrr…”

“Mm?”

“Who is the mother of Forsta?”

“Why?” Halfmyrr opened his eyes. “I don’t know, I never asked myself.”

“You surely know who is the mother of your child?”

“No, I don’t. Is that important?”

“But Halfmyrr! You should know who gave birth to your children!”

“Give birth? Hold on, Clime, you don’t understand. Myrr aren’t born. They’re made.”

Clime stared at him, and the prince swam to him. “I’m sure Myrr can be born, Clime, but as long as we’re experimenting, we want to control it. They’re cultivated. An ovum, some sperm, a microscope. The embryos are placed in special bags, like a uterus. Every split of the cells is watched. We can’t risk any mistake.”

“But why don’t you let nature take its course?”

Halfmyrr shook his head. “I’m afraid that’s no option.” He swam to the other side. “I was 15 when they started with the experiments. They needed my sperm, and an ovum. I didn’t want to have sexual intercourse with a woman, and besides, that would have been too slow. So I donate my semen.”

“Do you only get Myrr?”

“Yes, my Myrr-side is dominant. I have no human children. And the youngest Myrr are more like reptiles.”

“Really? Not like Forsta?”

“Forsta and Anden, that’s my oldest daughter, have long hair like me. They are built like humans, muscular, and have gills as well as lungs. My later offspring has no hair at all; only scales, and they’re adapted to the pressure. And my grandchildren are perfectly adapted, but can’t breath air so easily.”

“How can you have grandchildren?”

“Forsta and Anden. Their children are the true Myrr.”

“But they’re cultivated as well…”

“Yes, all Myrr are cultivated. And I never heard them complain.”

“They can talk?”

“Of course.” Halfmyrr laughed. “I’ll introduce you later. Do you have a towel?”