Page 9 of Music of the Ocean

After dumping his tray, he wandered the corridor, feeling the world settle back to its normal rhythm. Or something close to normal. There was a faint buzz in his limbs, almost pleasant, like a static charge before a storm. He needed to go to Medical, but the urge to wander first had his feet moving in the opposite direction.

He ducked into the Science Bay, half expecting to find Abe checking over their samples, as usual. Instead, the room was empty except for a wall of softly humming analysis units and a holoscreen running a time-lapse of the planet’s tides.

Saxby stepped closer to watch. The water ebbed and surged, the shoreline shrinking, then swelling, then shrinking again. He frowned. The cycle was off. It was too fast, too deep, as if the entire ocean was breathing in slow, predatory gulps.

“Lieutenant Saxby,” the ship’s AI chirped. “You have a comm from Abe. Shall I route it here?”

“Yeah,” Saxby said, clearing his throat.

Abe’s voice was sharp with excitement. “I got a notification you were in there.” Abe’s voice was sharp with excitement. “You seeing the tidal shifts? They’re off the charts. The entire ocean’s behaving like it’s got a moon twice the mass of Earth’s, but it doesn’t. Something’s going on under the surface.”

Saxby watched the screen. The water pulsed, a living thing flexing its muscle. He remembered the feeling at the shoreline, the word that had slipped through his mind: Mine.

“Keep me posted.” Saxby cut the connection. He lingered, staring at the readouts until his eyes throbbed.

Sighing, he headed for Medical.

Medical was bright enough to make Saxby squint. Someone had run the air system on high, so it was cold enough his sweat chilled instantly. Shit, when had he been sweating? He hadn’t noticed.

Vance was at his desk, feet up, scrolling through a medical journal on his smartpad. He set the pad down. “You stood me up, Lieutenant.”

“Sorry.” Saxby rubbed the back of his neck. “I crashed hard. Didn’t even feel it coming.”

“You seem to be doing that a lot lately. Here, sit, please.”

Saxby sat and rolled up his sleeve. The vinyl mattress made an embarrassing squawk beneath him. He kept his gaze fixed on the wall panel while Vance prepped a blood draw. He hated needles, even the fancy self sealing kind that looked like little blue caterpillars.

“So—” Vance tied off Saxby’s arm. “—you still thirsty?”

“More than before, honestly.” The confession slipped out. “But the salt’s helping.”

Vance’s hands were overly warm, which was weird, but the whole process took less than a minute, so he didn’t say anything. The sample zipped through the pneumatic courier and was gone. Vance patched the tiny wound, then glared at Saxby with an exaggerated squint. “You look like death microwaved.”

“Thanks. I feel like death microwaved.”

Vance ran a diagnostic wand over Saxby’s face, tsking under his breath. “You’re drying out.”

“You’d think all the water I’m drinking would help.”

“Maybe you’re leaking.” Vance grinned, then sobered. “Seriously, this is weird. Fever is gone, but your sodium’s refusing to play ball. Give me your symptoms.”

Saxby listed them.

“I swear, it almost sounds like the flu, but not all of your symptoms do.”

“Right.” Saxby shrugged. “I’m a medical mystery.”

“You ever consider you might be allergic to the twenty-sixth century?” Vance joked.

“Every time I get a rash from the sonic shower.”

The pneumatic courier chimed, and a data strip spat out of the slot. Vance scanned it, then grew still.

“Well?”

Vance’s lips pressed thin. “Your numbers are stabilizing. For real. The salt and fluid combo’s working, along with the hypo, and your blood chemistry… Well, it isn’t normal, but it isn’t getting worse. You’re plateauing, and I don’t know what to make of that.”

“That’s… great?”