Her Scales Shine Like Music Read Free Page B

struggling to avoid thinking about how much I missed Tara while my heart had been trying to express nothing else. I munched on cashews and almonds that tasted wonderful after days of rehydrated “food,” made myself more comfortable on the blanket, ran my fingers through the cold sand within reach, and stared at the wavelets. I wondered about the sand, wishing I’d asked Cards how this narrow beach had come to be. Even in such clear weather, I couldn’t see the lake’s far shore, and I’ve got eyes 5X binoculars would kill for.
    I don’t know when I drifted off, but woke up chilled in the opalescent twilight, stood up, activated heating in my parka, and wrapped myself in the blanket. The colors were now too good to miss. One of the house-sized bubbles, like an igloo made of rainbows, rose up within throwing distance of the shore. As it finally popped, another appeared immediately, much closer to me. Interesting. I’d never seen two appear in such close succession. When something stirred the water again, I figured a third psychedelic pocket of splendor was on the way.
    Instead, something solid and exceedingly strange gradually emerged from the water. I couldn’t quite distinguish its shape at first because it was highly reflective, but thought it had three huge eyes, if they were eyes—two close together on the front of its head, if that was a head, and one toward the top. The front eyes stayed aimed directly at me, and if the thing had moved in my direction or done anything vaguely threatening, I would’ve run like hell.
    Whatever it was, it remained dead still, front eyes now level with mine, wavelets gently splashing against its sides. No sign of mouth, gills, or a blowhole. I couldn’t imagine how it kept so steady in the water, and sincerely hoped that it wasn’t standing on the lake bed four kilometers below. As my own eyes or my brain adjusted, I could tell the thing vaguely resembled a horse covered in small, very shiny hexagonal scales. Only this equine was about mastodon-size and twice as wide.
    Artist would’ve called this a “tableau.” The thing stared at me and I stared back as the sky so slowly faded and the first hyper-twinkled stars appeared. Any thought of fetching recording equipment from my shelter never crossed my mind, and retrieving the wave rifle didn’t get within a light-year. Just as the first of Sonnet’s moons peeked over a distant mountain range, my companion eased downward and smoothly vanished underwater without changing its upright position.
    â€œWhat,” I asked the universe after a few minutes, “the hell was that?” Rather than wait around for an answer, I jogged back to my shelter, bringing only the blanket along. I set the tent’s lume-room panels brighter than usual, pulled out a packet labeled “lentil stew,” and put it back. No appetite. Only sleep, I thought, would do me good. Still, I sat for a time, heart slowly un-pounding, before trusting my head to the puff pillow. Thus began a long night of shivers, although I wasn’t cold. In the very early morning, an interesting thought arose: What made me so sure my new pal was confined to the lake?
    *   *   *
    I awoke after a last-hour uneasy nap and found my tent battery fully charged from yesterday’s abundant sunshine, despite the trivial draw from running last night’s illumination for an extra hour. This meant I could waste another day buried in virtual occupations. Games, shows, and a pantheon of other electronic time-eaters lay beckoning, likewise a few chores such as digging a second latrine, and my kettlebells seemed to sulk from disuse.
    I got dressed, grabbed my chair, hauled it down to the beach, and set it next to my whitepad and last evening’s mostly depleted party supplies. The mixed-nut bag wasn’t quite empty, but only Brazil nuts lurked within, and like all right-thinking people, I put them