Playing Koi (20) (Patreon)

Jemma pushed the spear aside, swimming slowly past the boy. This goldfish could still attack her of course—he was armed, and she wasn't. But Jemma had a fairly good idea about the sort of fish that Kisten would rescue. Not the kind that would become a danger to any of her existing population, that was for sure.

Sure enough, the goldfish didn't turn the spear on her. Instead, he tugged on her wrist, more like a child than some brave protector of these ruins. "I've seen the magic in there hurt fish before. It can kill you, or... worse."

She shook her head once, pushing him gently back. "I know how to avoid it, thanks. I know magic too." 

An exaggeration. If Algaegard was missing one thing above all others, it was the resources for her to learn magic. Jemma could've gone back to Thetria to find those things, but... seeing what had happened to the city, she had clearly made the correct choice after all.

Jemma slipped over the edge, scanning the spell diagrams set into walls and every other flat surface. She could not read what most of this was meant to do, but she didn't have to. So long as she could see where there were active spells and kept her distance, she wouldn't end up a supernatural barbeque.

Jemma swam down, leaving the nervous goldfish behind. He watched her from the railing, obviously terrified. 

"Don't follow me," she whispered, while still close to him. "I'll be careful."

She didn't watch for his reply—she could already guess what he would want to say.

Jemma was no sorceress and needed all her focus to avoid blundering accidentally into a spell. This was magic more advanced than anything she'd ever considered—more than anything Kisten ever studied in their life before.

But Thetria had centuries of magical research since she left. Maybe goldfish had invented all of this.

Finally, she reached “ground” level, where a metal cube covered in runes and glowing glyphs sat on a narrow pedestal. The Inventor circled around it, her tattered tail trailing in the water behind her. A thin ring of gold wire wrapped around it near the tip, hastily soldered together. Bits of slime clung to it, trailing dirt into the water behind her.

She wasn't just half-starved, some of those bandages covered scorch marks on her scales and skin. You worked to exhaustion, didn't you?

She kept her distance at first, watching the goldfish work. There was an order to the madness—she circled around the room from notes to books to calculator, before finally taking her engraving tool to the artifact at the center. She was muttering to herself as she worked, entirely silent to Jemma's ears, yet impossible to miss as she got close enough to see.

"Has to work... has to work. Energy differential... acceptable threshold. Breach disqualified... have to check on the orphans." 

That was when she looked up, and finally noticed someone floating with her. Kisten reached up to her goggles, rubbing her dirty fingers against the dirty glass. The result was only more dirt, smeared haphazardly over both lenses. 

"You're not here," she said, a little more clearly. She shifted behind the table, poking out just far enough to peer at Jemma. "You're not real, not real, not real. Can't be real."

Jemma watched her in silence for the first few seconds, afraid to startle her. Kisten's lab had no safety mechanisms of any kind, nothing to prevent the goldfish from floating too far backward into the path of an arcing contact, or directly into a crystal capacitor.

"I am," she whispered. "It's me, Jemma."

The goldfish drew a cloth from her belt, wiping along the lenses. This time it worked, though she didn't seem particularly convinced by what she saw. 

"Hallucination. Vision. Projection, maybe." She floated around the cube, both gloved hands shaking. She extended one towards Jemma's chest, then pulled it back again before she could make contact. "Jemma isn't real. Jemma was never real. She's an imaginary number. The necessary origin. Causeless progenitor."

Jemma held still in the water, just as she might for some delicate crustacean that had decided to crawl its way into her hands. She froze, or else risk injuring the creature before her. Beautiful in all her damage, yet fragile as stained glass.

"I'm not imaginary," she said. "Maybe I was. I don't know... exactly how your time thing worked. But I think it must've been... a really long time. Longer than it's been for me."

Kisten retreated behind the table again, lifting her injured tail to block the space between them. Even so, some leftover instinct compelled her to move it aside, just enough for Jemma to still read her expression.

"Time. Time. Bending, bending, snapped. Too far. Wanted all the time to advance, took it. Changed. Farther than they ought to. Needed more time. Less. Took..." She rolled over in the water, trailing away into incomprehensibility. 

She floated around the table to the other side, lifting the goggles away from her face. She poked gently at Jemma's tail with one glove, then darted back around to the other side, still muttering to herself. 

"Can't be... consistent with observation… evaluation required. Progression of likely..." She gestured vaguely towards Jemma, and her stomach nearly tumbled out from inside her chest. The room bent and curved around her, as though a sudden current had torn the ocean open, flowing in some strange new direction. Jemma flowed with it, until she was... somewhere else?

She recognized it instantly, the hallway leading down into Kisten's lab. Only now the goldfish was beside her, with the boy caught off to the side in bewildered confusion.

"Erik, do you see—is there a fish next to me?"

He shifted nervously in front of her, twisting one way, then the other. "Miss Inventor, if you're mad that I brought her, I didn't want to! I told her that you don't allow anyone in your lab, and she ignored me! I swear, if I had the choice..."

Kisten flicked her tail in annoyance. "I'm not mad at you, Erik. I just want you to tell me if you see her or not."

He dropped the spear, looking desperately towards Jemma and back. "Inventor? I... I don't understand what you're asking. There's a fish right there. Are you asking if she..."

Kisten wasn't looking at him though, which meant she wasn't listening. Instead, her attention was all on Jemma. She poked her shoulder again, her fingers so light in the glove that Jemma barely even felt it. "Real. Are you sure?"

"I..." Kisten jerked forward, this time gripping Jemma forcefully by the wrist. Water bent and curved again, but she was ready for it. Jemma forced out a mouthful of water, fighting to stay still. Until the awful moment passed, and they stopped moving.

"You can just... teleport now?" she asked, staring down at Kisten's gloved fingers. 

They were back in the central chamber, floating in the middle over the storage boxes. Little fish looked up from their hiding places, putting down their toys to stare. 

Auditory communication was a disadvantage here, in a world where every other fish signed.

Kisten released her, shifting nervously in the water. "Short distances. Not long enough to be useful. Just... occasionally grab things. Or p-people." She eyed Jemma sideways, before darting off down into the crowd of watching fish.

Jemma couldn't hear her, but she could watch her audience. Little faces crowded close to her, desperate for any sign of affection and stability in their world of darkness and desperation.

She approached more slowly, careful not to frighten the watching children.

She swam along the side, keeping to the shadows as much as she could. Until she could see Kisten again. "Let's get some snacks for everyone. I think I remember where to find something sweet. Rin, can you help me with the plates again?"

Rin—Erik's sister, nodded eagerly. "Course! I'll go get 'em!" She zipped off around the corner and returned with a stack of shallow trays.

Jemma watched from out of the way while Kisten prepared a meal for the waiting children. She wasn't very good at it—her fingers shook, her injuries were severe enough that she had a hard time floating flat in the water, and sometimes had to grab something to hold herself still.

Jemma waited to help, but whenever she got too close, the goldfish froze completely, and stayed that way until one of her children tried to interact with her. Erik came rushing down the hallway to help his sister, and plenty of the other older kids helped in small ways. There was a system here—they separated into groups.

Kisten didn't open the crates—she just gestured at them, and packages appeared in her hands, many wrapped in thin film and somehow dehydrated inside. What kind of machines could even make food like that?

Jemma kept her distance, until everyone had something to eat. Only then did she approach Kisten, where she floated surrounded by some of the youngest fish. She occasionally reached over to encourage them—in vain. Despite the fork that came with every package, most kids didn't touch it. Maybe they didn't know how to use it.

"I came from Algaegard," Jemma said, settling down opposite Kisten. Without prompting, the little girl from earlier zipped into her arms. She didn't seem to need much of anything, exactly. She just floated comfortably in place, rocking happily back and forth. "With a fleet. There were a dozen submarines in all. Escort swimmers, a few of our new drones. Everything we could spare. We're here to rescue you."

Her old girlfriend looked up. Old in more ways than one, now. She might be as young as Jemma remembered, yet somehow—there was a weight behind those eyes. Maybe it was the huge goggles, making it look like her stare went on forever.

"Rescue. You're asking for... smelled in the water. Orphans." She held up one hand, tracing along the tattoos on her arm. A little like Arlo's, except so faded under her pale skin that they were barely visible. Jemma wouldn't know they were there at all, except the runes lit up when she touched them. "Is that why you're here? Want to be one of them? How old?"

Can she— "Wait!" Jemma exclaimed, loud enough that the goldfish in her lap rolled over, then swam nervously away from her. A few of the other kids retreated as well, swimming over to hide behind Kisten. "Don't do whatever you're... thinking. I'm here to save you. I don't need rescuing."

Kisten scratched her chin, then lifted the goggles off her face. She rested them somewhere in her messy hair, and they clung like they might if her hair was covered in glue. From how stiff it looked; it might be.

Fish might not need to “shower” in the human sense. But personal cleanliness was still important, albeit in a modified form. To neglect it was to end up looking like Kisten—sickly, injured, and weak.

"I did save you," Kisten said. "Brought you. Someone who... reminded me of you. Wasn't sure. If I was wrong, would just make you like them, keep you safe." She flicked her tail at the nervous fish to either side. "Memory gets fried when you do that. No threat anymore."

"I'm not a threat," she said, a little louder. She reached for Kisten, taking her arm above the wrist. That didn't just mean they made contact—but more importantly, her fingers covered all those runes. "Kisten, I'm here to save you, and as many other survivors as we can find. Please don't fry my brain." She looked down, her eyes lingering on Kisten's many bandages. "Besides, you don't need another orphan. Looks like you can't care for the ones you have. You're a disaster."

Kisten's face changed. She tried to turn away to hide her tears, but she was much too weak. Jemma held on, keeping her in place. Sorry Kisten, you're not getting out of this one.

Her tears made no sound, of course. Underwater, they weren't even visible on her face. "Taking care of... too slow. Just waited until it got too bad, then use a spell before I die. Works... every time."

Before you die? Her mouth fell open. "Hold on. You're saying you... let yourself get like this, then use magic? Instead of eating? Treating your wounds, cleaning up..."

"No time," Kisten said. She tugged her arm free, a little more forcefully. "All those things—no fish with them. No fish in the lab. Have to get them across. Thetria—so close." She moved her arm up to the tattoos, and this time Jemma didn't try to stop her. Blue light pulsed through the water, combining into a complex pattern that left almost all of the runes on her arm glowing brilliantly.

Suddenly the cloud of nervous fish clinging to Kisten were swimming away from her, cowering behind boxes and back in their sheltered hammocks on the far end of the room. Jemma saw why a second later—light washed over her, filling the water with something foul. Dust fell away, revealing Kisten inside.

She looked almost the same, except—not. No more ribs, no more missing scales, and her hair was much shorter again, without any of the burned patches. Kisten tugged at the bandages, pulling those off one by one. No wounds remained. 

Jemma gasped. "How'd you learn to do that?"

Kisten shook out of her dirty gloves. "Time. Time time time time... time." She spun once in the water. That little burst of magic had done something else—instead of sagging, the goldfish's manic energy returned. "Gotta put these fish down to rest."

"Wait," Jemma called. "Not yet. You don't have to stay in here anymore. Give me back my radio—we need to talk to the fleet."

The fleet that was no longer echoing through the tunnel over their heads. Jemma heard no battle outside. There were still voices, but all were too faint to identify. 

Maybe they had won, or maybe they'd fled in defeat, leaving the predators to pick through the dead. Jemma could go up and look, but that might just be inviting something to eat her.

Kisten swam past her, over to the gathering of children near their beds.

That awful strategy had at least one positive outcome—Kisten wasn't dying anymore. Young or not, the goldfish could clearly see just how unhealthy she looked. Only now, all was well again.

Jemma kept out of the way while Kisten worked. The bedtime ritual was entirely silent, with only the occasional flash of her tail to mark her progress. For the older kids, there was only a few seconds to check on them, and she was moving again. The smaller ones needed a little more attention.

Jemma couldn't say how long it took. Eventually Kisten finished and reappeared beside her. She took her by the wrist, then they were somewhere else again.

At first the space was totally dark, other than the afterglow from Kisten's tattoo. The goldfish could say nothing without sight, so it was fortunate that it didn't stay there for long. A little blue crystal lit up overhead, illuminating somewhere Jemma only faintly remembered.

Kisten's bedroom, the one she built to copy the one they shared in another world.

Much had changed in here. The wood was all gone, rotted away to nothing. Coral grew from some of the surfaces, pointing towards an opening on the side of the room. The doorway to the balcony was gone now, replaced with another solid sheet of stone.

Once there had been paintings in this room, showing scenes of Earth and even some attempts capturing Jemma. Nothing so soft had lasted in here—no clothing, no blankets, no curtains. Only corroding metal, rock, and sheets of coral. 

"I thought you left the aquarium," she said. "A long time ago. When you met... Arlo." She struggled with his name, like the syllables were foreign to her. "Did you find a way to cheat? Take him out into the dry world, give him legs. Bet he got into one of those fancy schools."

Jemma shook her head weakly. "Arlo—no. He was on the submarine that brought me here. Not sure what happened to it after that barracuda attacked us. Probably tore it in half with magic and went right back to fighting."

Jemma swam past her, over to where the balcony had once been. She touched her hand up against it, then pushed the sheet of artificial rock. It didn't so much as jostle under the pressure, like she was trying to move a mountain with her arms.

Kisten was beside her again, with no sign of whether she'd swam across the distance, or just teleported there. "Arlo? He can't still be alive, Jemma. That was... so long ago." She lowered her goggles back over her face, tapping one hand against her chest several times. "Centuries and centuries and... I didn't know how to make fish into different fish but the same fish but—" She wobbled unsteadily in the water, until Jemma caught her by the arm, and held on.

It wasn't just the injuries. She's barely holding herself together. "He can't be alive," she finished. "Otherwise, I would still have them. But I don't have any fish left. Just me, and the ones I can reach in the water." She gestured with one hand, and the water lit up, illuminating ghostly shapes like goldfish swimming. 

The illusion didn't last for long, light bending and twisting together into a misshapen blob. Mouths stretched and distorted, as though wailing in agony. Then they were gone.

"What happened to Thetria, Kisten? It was so perfect last time I was here."

The goldfish gestured in front of her, drawing a few more symbols. Runes that Jemma didn't know. Finally, she got frustrated, and spoke in simpler words. "We got tired of sending little expeditions through the Worldgate and decided to send the whole city. Well—most of it, anyway. Not everyone wanted to go. Luddites, and..." She looked down, fins falling limp. "Old fools. Didn't want to move on."

"World...gate," Jemma repeated. "That's why you're so good at teleporting now, isn't it? You..."

She nodded. "Lots of research. Sick of living in someone's aquarium, wouldn’t you be?" She looked Jemma over, prodding at her chest, then her tail. "Okay, you are a little older. Simple fix."

Her stomach turned again, and this time it came with the added pain of searing heat rippling across her body. It burned, but somehow backwards. She got a little lower, until she was shorter than Kisten again. Even with both their tails floating in about the same place.

"I said—"

"Energy," Kisten supplied, unbidden. "I remembered when we were younger—staying up all night, surviving on chips and pure caffeine for days and never feeling sick." Kisten flexed both arms, and almost smiled. Her face still looked insane. More importantly, she'd just hit Jemma with magic, and hadn't even asked for her permission!

"Don't do that again," Jemma said, a little louder. Her voice was different—but not that much. At least the Inventor hadn't completely deep fried her. Yet. 

She gripped her by both arms this time and held. That fish was not going to cast anything else on her now, no matter how much practice she had. "Kisty, listen to me. I don't know how long the navy is going to be here. But we have ships, and we can bring your survivors back to Algaegard with us. We can rescue anyone else hiding in the city too."

"Don't need help," she said, squirming under Jemma's grip. Even as the bigger fish again, Kisten couldn't overpower her. Or maybe she didn't want to fight. "I'm close. I'll get the gate open again. Get through to Thetria, get everyone home. Safe.

"No, you won't," Jemma said. "Because you're losing your damn mind down here, Kisten. And those kids... they're not doing great either. Instead of working yourself to death, you can pack up all your research, load it onto a submarine—and take those fish somewhere safe."

The goldfish kept squirming, her fins struggling to wiggle her away. She gave up, in the end. Jemma held on too tight.

Finally, her strength failed her, and Kisten collapsed into Jemma's arms. She said nothing at all—Jemma didn't even know how long. She wasn't counting the minutes. "Will I have to... do it alone?"

"No, stupid," Jemma said, lifting those silly goggles away from her face. "Course not. I've got a big house. My workshop is... mostly empty now. Plenty of room for whatever magical stuff you wanna do. If you want it."