The Cistern (Work in Progress)

The chamber holding the cistern was cool, kept at a constant temperature by the surrounding stone walls. Natural light poured into the chamber through a trio of round glass windows set high into the eastern wall. The morning sun warmed the chamber while the western wall absorbed the heat and radiated it back out during the rest of the day. At the head of the shallow cistern, filtered water flowed in from an underground stream that also provided power as it flowed through a small water-powered generator located in another chamber.

Below the window at the foot of the cistern, a series of wooden pegs held a bathrobe and several towels. Vaal lay below the surface of the shallow pool sleeping soundly. She had missed the sunrise, which was not uncommon for her. The steady beat of the blade of an approaching helicopter echoed inside the chamber, disturbing the surface of the water and waking Vaal. It landed on a rocky ledge above the cavernous lodge. The pilot shut off the engine, disembarked, and secured the craft before Lt. Eldwin Parker climbed out. Making his way down the carved steps to the baffled entrance of the habitat, the lieutenant mentally reviewed his set of instructions.

Vaal didn’t look at all like the lieutenant had imagined, his expectations influenced by the depictions of mermaids in popular fiction. The blue terrycloth robe she was wearing covered most of her pale grey skin. Her dripping wet hair clung to her head like a silver helmet. Her feet were bare as usual. She stood holding a tray of freshly brewed coffee that she had brought from her galley. She placed the tray on a table and smiled at the lieutenant.

“Please, have a seat. I made some coffee.” She gestured to a nearby chair while taking a seat on a divan.

Her guest smiled awkwardly as he sat down. Uncertain how to broach the subject, he sat silently sipping his coffee. “Could you bring me that towel?” she gestured to a hand towel on the table next to his chair. She laughed as he juggled his coffee cup and saucer in his haste to bring her the towel. She took it from his outstretched arm and began to towel dry her hair. “Lieutenant Parker,” she asked, “do you have a first name? Or are you under orders to keep this call to duty strictly formal?”

“You know why I’m here?”

“I don’t know the details, but they wouldn’t have sent you if they didn’t need me to do them a solid. So, what’s the gig?” She opened the sealed envelope that the lieutenant handed to her and began reading the file. Sometime in the early morning hours, the DSRV Trilobite lost power and drifted off the continental shelf where it came to rest on the sea floor. The mission was simple. She needed to locate the submarine, assess the damage, and determine if the crew were still alive.