“I’ve been in love with her for six years’.”

“Uh—time heals all wounds?”

“Nice try.”

“Look, clean yourself up and come down to the NEA with me. It’ll do you good to get out. And I could really use your help. You’re so good at distracting the guys from hurting each other.”

He sighed again. “I can’t.”

“How come?”

“I don’t have any underwear.”

“Since when,” she demanded, “do you feel the need to wear underwear everyday?”

He thought about that for a moment. Then: “Point.” And went to take a shower.

Chapter Twenty-seven

The Lollipop was moored at the NEA dock beside the Voyager 777, which tourists used for whale watches. Much smaller, the Lollipop—

“As in, ‘the good ship’?” Jonas asked. “Get it? No? Never mind.”

—was for the aquarium’s scientific expeditions and research. As a water fellow, Thomas could sign it out and commandeer the crew whenever he wished; so could Fred.

With Dr. Barb’s permission, of course. But she wasn’t around, so they dodged that bureaucratic bullet nicely.

“See?” she said, forcing cheer that sounded unnatural. “Isn’t it nice to be out on this beautiful, um, autumn day?”

“It’s raining.” Jonas turned up his coat collar.

“Oh, a little water won’t hurt you. Take it from me. At least you’re getting some fresh air. Want to come on the boat?”

“With you?” He shuddered, the insensitive creep. “Absolutely not. No way. No. I’m only here because you bullied me out of my safe cocoon. Once I bid you toodle-loo, I’m sinking back into despair.”

“I promise I’ll sit in one spot and not move.”

“Fred. No.”

“Okay, okay. It’s probably all for the best.”

They heard clomping noises at the far end of the dock and turned to see Artur and Thomas heading toward them.

“Oh, like Undersea Folk never take a shit in the ocean!”

“Our shit, as you put it, breaks down when exposed to seawater. Certainly we do not pump concentrated loads of it into our living room.”

“I’ve had about enough of the smug routine, Artur. Show me the living breathing person who never screws up and I’ll show you nobody alive on the planet.”

“But surely you agree that your kind ‘screws up’ at a level unsurpassed by any other species. And many who ‘screw up’ aren’t in fact making a mistake at all. They do it purposefully, and generally for the sake of conquest.”

“Profit, really.”

“Same thing.”

“A million Undersea Folk running around the oceans eating all the raw fish they can get their hands on, and you guys aren’t causing any damage?”

“You did not know of our existence until this week.”

“Yeah, but every culture has mermaid legends. They sprang from somewhere, pal. People didn’t just pull the stories out of their asses. And you guys probably control those krakens that yanked all those seventeeth-century European ships into the water, killing—”

“I tire of this topic.”

“Tough nuts. We—”

“Ah, my boys,” Fred said with mock fondness. “What would I do without them? They’ve quit with testing each other physically, so now it’s debate, debate, debate. Kill me now.”