***
Ordinarily, like most of the water-alts—that engineered strain of human designed to work in and maintain the Haven's water system—Iionii accessed the Lake by simply stepping out of her front door and diving in. But not tonight. Tonight the water was the last thing on her mind. Tonight, her heart ached for something different.
Her bare feet padded softly upon the worn, wet stone of the footpath. Carved untold ages ago, the pathway followed the curvature of the inlet. The vaulted stone ceiling of the cavern tapered downward to the pathway and the rank of domiciles that joined the two. The water-reflected light danced in undulating ribbons upon the cavern's every surface.
She passed from Diver's Row where the water-alts lived and into the nearby neighborhood of Sil'berg. A "norm" district, like 90% of all districts in Haven, Sil'berg thrummed with activity. It was much like Egan, the district neighborhood where Paul had been raised.
People moved up and down the thoroughfares and side streets, passing in and out of shops, and restaurants, and clubs. But it was to the street performers that Iionii was drawn. She cared little for the entertainment they provided. Instead, her focus was upon the spectators.
A small throng of people drew her attention to a man in their midst, hopping on one foot while juggling four silver balls. Iionii pulled the hood of her cloak a bit more forward, to better conceal her more distinguishing features. As ridiculous as the belief that the Alts were somehow responsible for the strange disease that was wreaking havoc in some communities, there was nothing ridiculous about violent reactions that some norms had toward alts these days.
Iionii inched closer, confining her movements to the shadowed building faces, until she could almost touch the nearest in the crowd. From there she observed them. Her dark eyes scanning the onlookers until, at last, she saw what she had been looking for.
A baby.
A pang of maternal desire pulsed through Iionii's heart. Aside from Paul, there was nothing in Haven she wanted more than to be a mother. Fate and science had conspired to bless her with abilities that normal humans could never truly know. Yet, fate and science had also cursed her; deprived her by design of the ability to procreate. Most cruelly of all, however, though she had been genetically purged of the ability to bear a child, she had not been purged of the desire to be a mother.
She felt cold tears of envy brimming in her black eyes as she watched the young mother (happily fussing) over her baby.
She looked away, wondering why she tortured herself so. She pitied herself. She sometimes imagined that Paul had fallen in love with her because she broke his heart. It wasn't true, of course. She knew it.
She turned back to watch the baby a while longer. She gave a silent start when she saw the infant staring directly at her. So too was the child's mother.
The woman clutched her child to her breast. "It's an alt!" she cried.
The crowd turned as one and Iionii saw the fear and panic in their eyes. Someone yelled "Get it!" Half the crowd scattered, but those who remained surged toward her.
Iionii turned and bolted. The lightweight folds of her dark cloak billowed around her like the great black wings of the angel of death that the "norms" believed her to be.
She ran, but not blindly. She had to get to the Lake. She had to get home, but she was not foolish enough to lead the mob there. She darted down a side street in the general direction of the Lake.
Other people, alerted by the uproar, appeared in doors and windows and on the surrounding streets, forcing Iionii to change course more than once until she wasn't sure in which direction lay her watery refuge.
Then she saw it, the glimmering reflection of light on water, playing upon a building face at the end of the lane. Without stopping, she peeled off the cloak and tucked it into the dry-bag belted around her slender waist. She sealed it just as she reached the end of the pavement.
The mob was still in pursuit, hurling curses, insults and anything else they could throw at her. She rushed toward a low guard rail and dove over it without breaking stride.
She slipped cleanly through the placid surface of the inlet, creating little more than a ripple of disturbance. The welcoming water enveloped her, body and soul. This was her world. She swam with long, fluid strokes, descending ever further into a realm of wavering light and deepening shadow. Profusions of brightly colored plants clung to most every outcropping of the black, porous stone that comprised the lakebed.
Finally, a dozen meters deep, she stopped to get her bearings. She was close to home. She just needed to orient herself if only to save time in getting back before Paul began to worry. She shut her eyes, hyperextended her delicate gills, and breathed deeply, tasting the waters around her. The slightly elevated saline levels told her that she was somewhere on the wrong side of the Grayling Partition. No big deal. She would simply track east until she came to the first lock, where she could slip though easily enough.
She opened her eyes and retracted her gills until she could breathe normally. Then, keeping well below the surface, beyond the reach of any probing eyes, Iionii set out at a strong, though somewhat leisurely, clip. She should reach the lock in a matter of minutes. Hopefully, it would be time enough to clear her heart and mind of her heavy thoughts.
Iionii's course took her out of the inlet. Although the bottom was still discernible, it had dropped away a steeply as she entered the open water. She angled to her left. She entered a forest of towering columns of craggy stone, natural formations connecting the cavern floor to the ceiling.
For a time, Iionii tracked along the great duct lines that snaked along the lakebed, each of which was large enough for a hyperloop capsule to pass though. Like a system of blood vessels, some lines delivered oxygen and other life supporting elements to all parts of the Lake; some lines carried off waste materials from the network of subsurface filtering stations.
Reasonably sure of her surroundings, and with a little time to spare, Iionii altered course, weaving in and out among the stone giants. Shoals of iridescent fish scattered before her, only to reform in her wake.
She had Paul. She had the Lake. She should be satisfied, she told herself, but she wasn't. And there was noting that could be done about it. Genetics and the Law were against her.
Suddenly, the creeping wave of self-pity withdrew to the corners of her mind, as something in the depths beneath her caught her eye. She drew herself to stop and stared into the gloom below.
There was something there alright, nearly obscured by depth, the stone columns and, most especially, by the billowing plumes of bubbles rising from a pair of the Lakes' enormous oxygenating vents that were part of the Lake's circulatory system.
Her skin tingled with an unaccustomed wariness. There were predators here about to be sure, but this was no predator… at least as she knew them. No, this was something different, an obvious fact even from high above, and it was that very "differentness" that alarmed her. After all, as big as the Lake and all of the lesser bodies of water throughout Haven were, there was never anything "different" to be found in them.
Iionii tightened the dry-bag around her waist. She hesitated for a moment before slipping her diver's knife from the sheath on her belt: predator or not, a bit of caution wasn't unmerited until she knew for sure what the thing below was.