Chapter Text
When Dr Richard Nines had first read the report from the Marine Biology Department of Detroit, he had dismissed it as a childish intern playing a prank. It wasn't until his trusted mentor had followed the email up with the early notes of her research and a folder of photographic evidence that he had finally believed.
Detroit Marine had discovered a mermaid.
Well, to be more precise, they had discovered a previously undiscovered aquatic mammal with a humanoid torso and a piscine body mass - but as far as legends went, it was a pretty close match to the concept of a mermaid. Amanda had been studying the creature from a biological and anatomical stand-point but had reached out and asked Nines to contribute as a behavioural expert. As much as they could learn from its chemical make-up and physical form, there was still a lot they could discern from its social behaviours. If it was a social creature, that meant there were more mermaids, which meant a larger data pool. Always a promising prospect.
Smoothing out his shirt as he exited the taxi, Nines smiled a greeting to Amanda and accepted her affectionate embrace once she drew close. "I wasn't sure whether you'd come," she admitted, guiding him inside with a sweep of her arm.
"I wouldn't have, if you hadn't sent that file," he explained, following close at her heel as she guided him past labs and offices, into the restricted area of the building. "Is it alive?"
"Oh yes. Alive and kicking... More often than not, we have to keep it tranquilised to stop it destroying the holding tank."
"I don't imagine it's accustomed to small spaces," Nines reasoned, none too keen on her indifferent tone. Call him soft, but he had taken to studying marine biology because he cared for the creatures they found, as much as he was fascinated by them. He didn't believe in undue suffering in the name of science, though he knew Amanda's stance on Humanity vs. Scientific Advancement. It was a point they had butted heads on previously and they would no doubt do so again. But, given the unusual nature of their discovery, he supposed it wasn't unreasonable for her to be taking exeptional precautions.
As they approached a heavy steel door, bracketed on each side by security staff, Nines felt a shiver of anticipation. This was it. Time to come face to face with a centuries-old legend. Amanda pushed open the door and ushered him inside, closing it firmly behind them. Nines was stunned into awed silence by the sight.
The center of the large lab was taken up by a 30ft cylindical tank that reached to the ceiling, a steady filtration system creating a soft but constant current of clean water. Nines walked closer, eyes fixed on the creature held inside as it swam slow spirals along the outter edge of the tank, diving to the bottom and starting over once it reached the top. From the naval up, its anatomy was mostly humanoid, though its scaled skin was a pale shade of blue and a complex mesh of gills lined the curve of its ribs. Its face was masculine and uncannily human, though its eyes were pure black and he caught a glimpse of angler-like fangs when the creature gritted its teeth against the steady pressure of the current. Nines was amused to find that it was intentionally swimming against the pressure of the water, stubbornly choosing the hardest path to keep itself occupied.
But the real marvel was its tail... extending around 4 foot in length, the deep blues and whites running in bold verticle stripes down the length of the main tail muscle. The caudal fin was easily two foot wide, erupting from the base of the tail in spined, fan-like tendrils. A matching pair of smaller fans blossomed at its hips before the vibrant colouring faded into the subdued blues of its torso. When it turned in the tank, Nines saw that its back was much darker, consisting mainly of dark grey and navy blends. Fascinating... he suddenly understood why Amanda had called him.
"He has the characteristics of a Glaucus Atlanticus," he breathed, unable to stop himself from walking up to the tank.
He had barely touched his fingertips to the glass before the creature nose-dived and drove its shoulder hard into the glass, lips peeled back into an aggressive snarl - those large fangs displayed only inches from the doctor's face. Nines flinched and stepped back, watching the creature's expression twist a little... it was laughing. It was laughing at him for being afraid. Incredible... A sense of humour, no matter how cruel, was evidence of social behaviours, human-like thought processes and the ability to form emotional associations.
Nines smiled at the thought and stepped back to the glass, pressing his hand more firmly against it. Again, the creature dived and rammed its shoulder to the glass before snapping at him, but Nines held his ground - he knew the glass would hold and he knew what the creature would do, though he had to admit that there was still something unspeakably startling about having the unusual creature assaulting the barrier between them. Sensing that the trick wouldn't work a second time, the creature's eyes narrowed and it reared back, fanning its pelvic and caudal fin to full size before screeching; the sound was muffled at first by the water and the glass, coming through as something not dissimilar to a dolphin squeak, but as the monitoring system kicked in, the screech was transposed at a deafening volume through the lab. Nines dropped his hand in favour of covering his ears, a few more pieces clicking into place: it knew that the humans could hear it, and he knew that the sound would be discomforting, which showed awareness of tools and the ability to predict reactions... in other words, a kind of empathy.
"When you're done playing, Dr Nines, I have a few test results I'd like to go through with you," Amanda interrupted, bringing the doctor back to the task at hand; her mood not improved by the creature's vocal tricks.
"Of course... Sorry, it's just... incredible," he responded, forcing himself to walk away.
As he did, the creature looped tightly in a victory flip before letting its weight settle at the bottom of the tank. It watched the doctor turn his attention to the terminal at the edge of the lab, expression shifting and changing as it thought. moving back to the glass, it beat a webbed hand against the partition in an effort to catch Nines' attention, then fell back in a slow recline until it was laid prone on the floor of the tank. One of the technicians rolls his eyes slightly and gestured for Nines. "You've done it now, sir. It'll sulk like that for the next half hour."
"Because I disturbed it?" he asked, frowning slightly.
"No... it's just realised that playing with you is more fun than swimming circles," the technician laughed. "It did the same thing after Rupert tried to keep it active during a heart-rate test."
Then it was a social creature, relying on interaction with others for entertainment. Which meant that there would undoubtedly be more of them somewhere. But how had their species gone for centuries without discovery? How had they avoided modern radar and sonar scans? It didn't make any sense.
"Where did you find it?" Nines asked, turning his attention back to Amanda.
"That's the strangest part, we found it in Lake Erie... Our best theory is that it's seaborne, given its size and physionomy, so it must have gotten unbelievably lost during the high tide that followed this winter's heavy rainfall and kept swimming until it got to Erie."
Nines considered this, looking over the summarised reports that had been handed to him. At a brief glance, he was surprised to find that very little had been done to report on its behavioural habits - though he supposed that was why Amanda had called him. She was an expert in marine biology, so her research would undoubtly cover the creature's genetic structure, its anatomical proportions and functions. It's behaviour and responses to stimuli would be Nines' expert contribution.
"Do you mind if I keep a hold of this copy? I'd like to read it thoroughly when I'm at the hotel," he asked, closing the folder. "For now, I'd like to run some tests to see what we can determine about its behaviour. If we can determine its social habits, we might be able to locate a few more..."
The prospect seemed to please Amanda and she nodded, turning to glance at the creature. It had laid itself flat against the bottom of the tank, arms and webbed fingers splayed wide at its side; it was motionless, staring at the filter fan at the top of the tank, its fins occasionally rippling with the current. Nines followed her gaze and couldn't help the soundless laugh that settled in his chest. It was dangerous to anthropomorphise animals, to attribute their behaviour to human emotions - but if he didn't know better, he'd say that the creature really was sulking.
"Cheer up, we'll have something fun to keep you busy soon," he reassured, knowing full well it couldn't hear him.