Page 3 of Music of the Ocean

“I’m sure I could find some way to justify it.” Saxby knelt, boots sliding a little in the moist sand. Dammit, Abe better not have seen that or he’d never hear the end of it. He sank the probe into the water.

Almost immediately, a metallic taste erupted on the back of his tongue and shot forward until it filled his mouth. He gritted his teeth against it, not that it did any good. Then, he tried to pull his hand from the probe, but those muscles didn’t respond.

Instead, the nerves along his arm suddenly lit up with a crackling fire. It wasn’t pain, exactly, more like the feeling of a limb waking from numbness. But it was faster, and wrong, as it branched out across his chest, up into his throat, and down into his stomach.

His heart thumped once, and the sensation doubled in intensity.

Then, his hand, which was locked around the probe, vibrated. But not visibly. The movement didn’t show up in his knuckles or the pale skin stretched over them. Instead, he felt it internally, which he really did not care for at all, gods damn it.

It was as if the probe itself had become a tuning fork, resonating at some frequency designed to play Saxby’s nervous system like an instrument. He willed his fingers to uncurl, to release their white-knuckled grip, but the command never made it past his elbow.

Though he couldn’t control his fist, he could clearly feel the cold of the water travel up the metal pole and into his hand. The waves blurred as dizziness swept through him and chills ran up his back.

The ocean’s lapping swelled in his ears until it drowned out the jungle behind him, the voices of his crew, everything. The salt in the air thickened, almost sweet. His legs felt strange. Not weak exactly, just heavy.

A presence moved through his mind the way a large thing moves through deep water—unhurried, enormous. Looking for him specifically… and finding him. Reality seemed to fold. Something whispered across his mind. Something ancient. Inhuman. Dominant.

Mine.

Then, the presence, the dizziness, the odd taste, and the overwhelming scent of salt were gone, and reality snapped back. The device burbled and spat out readings on a tiny screen as Saxby fought not to drop the metal rod into the water. His fingers would not stay steady.

Saxby’s mind screamed at him to get his hand the fuck out of the water, while the more rational side of him pointed out nothing had happened. Nothing at all. Okay, yes, he had a funny taste in his mouth, and, okay, there was some dizziness, but that could be from almost anything.

The air was clean, but gravity was heavier than he was used to. Plus, it was certainly humid out here. Also, he’d been stuck in a shuttle for over three hours. And he’d had a sore throat last night. Maybe his sinuses were draining and he was coming down with a head cold.

“Leave it for sixty,” Abe said, glancing at his own smartpad. “Then, we bag a few liters for the shipboard analysis.”

Saxby nodded, opting to ignore his weird reaction. He kept half an eye on the probe and the other half on the dark water farther out. There were brief, sinuous ripples of movement just under the surface. Was it fish? Or something else?

Gods above, his imagination was in overdrive.

Forcing his gaze away from the water, he glanced toward the jungle. Kira stalked the tree line, head on a slow swivel. She cradled her phaser rifle with a casualness that belied tension.

Her gaze flicked back to them every few seconds, watchful and ready. She chewed a wad of ration gum, jaw tight.

Vance was on his hands and knees, scraping root-tangled dirt into a test tube where grass met sand. He worked with a hunched, methodical rhythm, all focus.

Saxby returned his attention to what he held. He watched the probe’s numbers jitter and settle. The sunlight on the water made it feel hotter than it should have. The glare was almost painful.

His uniform trapped his body heat making sweat stains under his armpits. Fuck, was this the start of a panic attack? It didn’t feel like the ones he’d had years ago and hidden, but something definitely had his hindbrain sitting up and paying attention.

“Okay, time’s up. Let’s bag and tag,” Abe said.

Saxby couldn’t get his hand out of the water fast enough. He repeated the process several more times, then stored those samples, too.

“Hey, are you okay, Saxby?” Abe asked. “You’re looking kind of pale there.”

“I’m fine. I have a head cold coming on,” Saxby said.

Vance wandered over holding his kit. “Abe’s right, you are pale. Want to stop by Medical later? I’ll take a quick look at you.”

“Maybe. Like I told Abe, I have a head cold coming on, but if I don’t get to feeling better, I definitely will,” Saxby said. Vance Brown had his pilot’s license, but he was also their ship’s Head Nurse.

Kira joined them. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” Saxby reassured her. “Think I have a head cold. No worries.”

The others stared at him for a moment, then let it drop. Kira shoved her short braid out of the way. Abe fiddled with the canister’s control plate. Vance frowned at him. They didn’t look convinced, but Saxby damned sure wasn’t going to tell them he’d been on the verge of a panic attack. No sir.