The Shoal-member itself possessed about half the body mass of a human, but its shape was that of a large chondrichthian fish. Rainbow-hued fins and tail wafted within the surrounding waters, and the several tentacles it used for manipulation extended downwards from its belly region, while the gills appeared as long dark slashes halfway along its torso.
Other, much tinier, non-sentient fish darted around it and, as Dakota watched, a few of the creature’s tentacles lashed out to ensnare a clutch of them, stuffing them greedily into its ancillary mouth. The alien’s translation and communications systems failed to disguise the cracking and chewing sounds as the fish were messily ingested.
‘Pleased to meet you too,’ Dakota said insincerely. She glanced around to see if she could catch sight of either Moss or Bourdain. ‘Now if you’ll excuse me-’
‘Miss Dakota Merrick?’
The Shoal-member had her full attention now. It wasn’t conceivable the thing was working for Bourdain rather than the other way around-or was it?
No, of course not. Concorrant Industries couldn’t survive a day without the beneficence of the Shoal’s technology and expertise.
‘Hungry fish swimming for minnows,’ the Shoal-member’s translation software informed her, more than a little obscurely. ‘A shallow pond. Mr Bourdain seems unhappy. Safety in numbers. Co-operation is key.’
She didn’t have the time for alien riddles.
‘I’m sorry, I really am in a hurry.’ She began to move away.
‘Small and alone in deep water, more likely to be consumed by predators,’ continued the alien, rather less obscurely, floating along beside her as she strode rapidly through the hall. ‘A free lunch. Some feed from skin of larger fish, live. Safety in numbers, in survival strategies. Two is better company than one.’
‘You…?’ She had the uncanny sense the creature was offering to help her. ‘How did you know my name?’
‘Shoal know all,’ the alien replied mysteriously. ‘What is dark to you is light to us. Clarity itself. Shoal hold open book of dreams, waiting to be read. All locks are broken with Shoal science, all secrets laid bare. You dart through deep waters with Mr Bourdain, yes? He attempts to force words from your head. Where Mr Bourdain is concerned, many smaller fish get eaten, and much blood is spilt.’
Dakota finally caught sight of Bourdain and his sidekick out of the corner of her eye, and she quickly ducked around the other side of the alien’s floating bubble. She was pretty sure they hadn’t seen her yet. The creature inside it swivelled to face her once more, while the bubble itself floated along by her side, matching her steady progress towards the main exit.
She knew it was impossible to read human emotion into the alien’s face, but she couldn’t help but believe that it looked amused, somehow.
‘You know what happened to me in Bourdain’s office?’ she enquired, then started to move faster, almost breaking into a jog. People around them stared as they passed. ‘Is that what you’re telling me? How do you know?’
‘Affirmation most appropriate answer. Shoal know all.’
‘Look, Bourdain is out to kill me, and I don’t know why.’
‘Shoal is thinking affirmation. Much tail-thrashing, much gnawing at deep waters. Query, Miss Merrick…’
It took her a moment to realize it wanted to ask her a question. She kept darting glances from side to side, feeling deeply vulnerable from the lack of anything even resembling a weapon with which she could defend herself. It took a great effort of will not to make a dash for the antechamber; with the alien floating along beside her, she was drawing too much attention to herself.
‘What?’ she snapped, wondering if she should simply make a break for it. But Bourdain would surely have placed security teams at every access point to the docking bays. Yet she saw nothing menacing as the tall archway leading out of the Great Hall drew closer.
But of course, she thought furiously: mounting an impromptu security operation to catch her right in the middle of a public extravaganza like this would draw far too much attention for Bourdain’s comfort, especially after all his recent legal troubles. And with so many witnesses…
She had to remain calm. She kept moving forward, briskly. Her arms and neck were already damp with sweat.
‹Dakota, I am being scanned by the primary local defence systems.›
Can you deal with it?
‹For the moment.›
Keep me updated and prep for launch. I’m on my way.
She quickened her pace again, willing herself not to start running. In the meantime, the alien kept pace with her, which had her cursing under her breath. It was as good as having a giant flashing arrow pointing straight towards her, for the benefit of the dozens of people already watching their progress with bewilderment or amusement.
‘Late to explain sorry sincerely. Embarrassment, as of revelling in self-fouled waters. Query: your craft is filled to capsizing with darkly operating systems, all unheard and invisible to dry-floating-island’s listening machines. If discovered by your Consortium, these non-legal modifications would consign you to ocean-bottom darkness for eternity, far from the common shoal, and with the loss of your craft. Follow?’
Darkly operating systems? And then it hit her what the Shoal-member was telling her. It knew the Piri was rigged with illegal black-ops modifications.
‹I am registering massive systems intrusions. Initiating defensive measures.›
‘What are they doing to my ship?’ she demanded of the alien.
‘Please to be curious,’ the creature replied. ‘This Shoal-member’s scent glands recognize the presence of much else that is questionable recently residing within the belly of your craft. For instance, to be enquiring as to means whereby Miss Merrick came into possession of GiantKiller?’
‘I don’t…’ Dakota’s mouth worked uselessly for a moment and she almost stumbled. ‘Did you say GiantKiller?’
‘Pleased to be affirming this.’
For the briefest moment she forgot about Moss and Bourdain. ‘You’re telling me I had a fucking GiantKiller on my ship?’
‘Shoal is pleased to note contrition arising from this unfortunate issue. Much unpleasantness. Human phrase “children playing with matches”, curiously apposite, with apologies and humour. Dealing in such non-leased, highly restricted goods is most non-Consortium behaviour, resulting in banishment for all concerned far from surface waters, chained upside-down in deepwater cell for eternity. A sorry end.’