“No. But they have me curious… what happened to the old fella?”
Arthur’s smile was gone. “A minor accident, unfortunately. He’s retired now, and he has a big pension to thank him for doing his job well. Don’t mind the guards. Our boss remembered what his lab is worth and wants to protect his assets.”
“And there’s no problem with me being here?” Connor asked doubtfully.
“You’ve been running around this place since you could walk. Of course, it’s no problem.” Arthur reassured him. “Are you here to see your dad?”
“He’s supervising me.”
“Ah, that’s right. You have your probation conditions to meet.” Arthur nodded. “Well, you can set up anywhere you like. Ben is in the middle of examining some new specimens we just got in, so he’ll be awhile.”
Connor knew that he might not even see his dad today. “Alright. Thanks, Arthur.”
“No problem.” Arthur gave Connor’s shoulder a warm pat as he walked by, continuing his path along the walkway until he disappeared into the office furthest from the elevator.
Connor approached the empty desks. The lab had obviously been set up for dozens and dozens of workers, but the only two people Connor had ever seen down here were his dad and Arthur. Connor dropped his bag onto the nearest desk and searched for the light switch. All the desks came with glow lights to make up for the room’s darkness. Aside from the low-intensity blue and green lights scattered around the office, there wasn’t much else to illuminate anything.
It was undoubtedly kept on low lighting so that you could see more looking out into the ocean, and Connor wondered what it would look like with the lights switched off entirely. Connor sat after finding the light switch and dug out his book. He’d given up on Orlando yesterday and picked up a book filled with short stories instead. He thought the shorter segments might be more manageable.
Connor had vastly overestimated his ability to concentrate.
An hour in, he’d scarcely taken any notes and had little to no progress to show for himself. Getting up, Connor wandered to the glass with his book. He glanced around himself, then sat with his back to the glass, liking the icy chill radiating from the ocean. After another hour of reading, he closed the book and tossed it away.
Would the judge consider giving him jail time instead?
Connor lay on his side, his back against the glass still, before rolling over.
A cry of surprise left his mouth as he startled terribly; he scrambled away from the glass and the face. He rushed back on his heels and hands, throwing himself too hastily to get to his feet. His wrist crashed into the steps of the walkway, halting his progress.
Connor stopped. He stared at the face floating in the water, at the dark blue eyes fixed on Connor. The blue light of the lab shone on the individual, highlighting sharp cheekbones, and pointed ear tips.
A diver, his rational mind whispered to him.
His rational mind had apparently ignored the point where thick, corded ab muscles bled into a glistening tail of greens and blues. Connor stared at that point, seeking the subterfuge. The obvious place where fabric was bolted down or a thread had come loose.
A pale hand skimmed the line where scales became skin. His gaze jerked back to the face and found—it? him?—looking down at himself, touching where Connor had been staring. He rubbed himself with his hand as if brushing off dust. Those dark blue eyes, devoid of white, darted back to Connor. And, as near as Connor could tell, there was an expression on his face. His lips grew taunt; he looked down again and wiped at the same spot, then abruptly pushed off the glass and sped away from Connor. His tail was long, disproportionally large compared to the length of his torso.
He disappeared into the murk and camouflage of the water below and the many weeds that drifted up from the ocean floor. Connor realised that whip of a tail was what he’d seen when he’d arrived.
Connor’s heart rabbited.
Was it a trick? Was it possible to make a trick so convincing?
He waited on the step, barely breathing, and peered into the waters. The ocean groaned, and the cold of the lab seeped into his body, making him shiver.
A door creaked open; Connor’s head jerked toward the noise. His dad exited his office and strode down the walkway. His head was bent down, and his focus was on the tablet in his hand as he scrolled through something. Ben didn’t notice him until his foot collided with the book Connor had thrown aside earlier. Ben looked at the book, and then his eyes darted sideways to Connor.
“Connor,” he said, surprise in his voice. “I forgot you were here.”
“I’m shocked,” Connor said dryly. He climbed to his feet and shook out his wrist. The bang had numbed his fingers.
“I’m going up for coffee.”
“Don’t you have a coffee machine in your office?” Connor’s voice was shaky. A mixture of nerves and excitement made the pitch skew despite his attempt at a casual facade. Not that his dad would notice either way.
Ben kept everything needed to work for days on end in the lab. And suddenly, Connor could see what he found so interesting about fish and seaweed that he stayed here for weeks at a time.
“It’s broken, unfortunately.” His dad showed Connor the hand not holding the tablet, revealing an empty coffee pot. The glass was so clean Connor had the absurd image of his dad licking the glass for every minute remnant of caffeine.
