It’s a dream, I know that.

Mainly because I haven’t seen HER since I was much younger.

#40, the first of the Elder God’s Children, the first of the 40 Series.

The first to escape, though they told us she was killed in the process. It was like they were trying to scare us into compliance, and we all could feel they were lying.

But I was standing before #40 in a training room and I must have been six or seven at the time. She was 12 years older than me and not pregnant yet. She was tall, strong, her skin the black of a night sea, her eyes glowing silver moons. She was supposed to be training me on how to better use my tendrils to move up the rock wall in the training lab.

Could never figure out why they wanted me to learn it but anything was better than endurance tests. I’d take calculous over that and a chance to train with #40 was far from that dull.

We both had our tendrils out, released from the bags the researchers insist we wear outside of training or tests. She had three pairs, one set at the base of her skull, another mid back that had longer feelers on them and a third pair at the base of her spine. Nestled between the mid and lower back tendrils, her gills were bright red and weeping clear fluid, like they’d made her test chlorination levels. Again. Those tests hurt like fire.

“Another chlorine test?” My voice sounded small and quiet in the large room with cameras covering every inch of it.

She nodded. “Turns out I’m allergic to bromine. But better they test me than you littles. Come on, show me what you got. Scale that wall?”

We would spend hours going up, down, and across the walls with variously shaped hand holds, bars, grips and later on, sheer glass when my tendrils grew suckers. Training was the only time I got to see #40 and I’d always looked at her like a big sister. Technically we had the same father but I didn’t feel that way with the other 40’s except #49. #49.5 was never allowed near the rest of us.

In my dream, #40 turned to me and a frown creased her forehead. “You’re going to have to fight again, little #42.”

“It’s Gwen now,” I told her in the strange way of dreams. “I have a real name. Like the super hero.”

“Gwen, I like it,” she nodded. “Gwen, there’s trouble brewing.”

“That’s coffee.”

She laughed, eyes shining, and sighed. “Cute, you got jokes. But they’re going to send someone after you Gwen. They found you.”

“How?”

“I don’t-“ she was cut off as alarms started to scream, the lights flashing. She looked scared and then darted into the darkness gathering at in a corner of the room.

I woke up.

I was reathing fast, pulse racing as I reached for Star. Helix was resting with his tail curling along my back, facing into the current and Mal has his head on my shoulder at the same angle. The water was cool but full of life around me, vivid in ways the sterile air and chlorinated water of the place I was born and raised could never be.

Star woke at my mental reach, looking for trouble as he circled next to me, jaws gaping in a threat display. He glided past his brothers to slide past my leg, the touch reassuring me after the fear at the end of the dream. I had dreamed a variant of that dream for the last week, this was the sixth time I’d had it. It was the first time I’d been in the water during the dream and I had to work to calm Star.

I hit the “glow” button on my watch and internally groaned to see if was 3:30 in the morning but I was wide awake, the adrenaline from the dream’s end ensuring sleep was gone. I sprawled over my sleeping pups, forcing my body to slow down, breathing to a four count and my pulse lowered in kind after a few moments.

#40 had been killed in her escape attempt, that’s what the scientists and head of security had always told us. But I already knew that they lied, so she could have gotten out alive and evaded capture. I had and she was stronger. Or had been. Why would she contact me though? After all this time since my escape? Hell, could she even contact me?

More questions with no answers. Never an answers.

I sighed, gave up on sleeping and began to hunt along the sea bed near where Mal and Helix slept on, safe in my presence. Nothing would attack my pups as they slept, not even bigger whites. Star slid through the water behind me like a lethal shadow, his jaws slowly closing as I explained about the dream. He gave a snarl and asked me what could hurt me. Could he eat it?

“No, love, don’t worry,” I said, sliding hands along his strong side. He coiled around me like a cat for a moment, mouth open into the crosscurrent, letting it “breath” for him. Whites either have to move themselves or have water moving across their gills fast enough to maintain blood oxygenation levels. We typically slept at a cross current near the shore where I lived on land with Veronica. I was grateful to have found it because it meant I could find the boys when they were resting.

I had no idea what the dreams meant. Life was busy and I had a human family in addition to my family of the deeps to take care of. If anyone came for me, I’d handle them face to face.

Veronica, Mauricio and Annabella all continued with their work, and were busy putting together a paper for the regional government. Maria and I worked on her physical state in the mornings on week days, because I wouldn’t teach her to swim in open water until she had more stamina in her underfed frame. Though she was beginning to lose that gaunt look after weeks of Annabella’s cooking. In the afternoons we worked on her academics, following along a home school program Annabella set up. She applied herself to what we were learning, even having me start teaching her conversational English while we worked out. There was drive, intellect and a fierce desire for independence in that tiny sixteen year old girl.

She reminded me of #49 in some ways, though I’d never admit that out loud. By the gods, I’d only made the connection in the conscious part of my mind after the dreams started. #49 was the second to youngest of the 40 series and #40’s daughter. It hadn’t been a willing thing, that pregnancy and #40 had used the lull in security during her labor to escape after birthing a child she never wanted.

I pushed away the thoughts of my sister and niece, they were not a part of my life here and now. I had to focus on Maria and was doing so when Annabella interrupted us one afternoon.

“Ninas,” she called, rushing into the dining room (there were three of them) that we’d chosen to set up our school in. “There’s a squall blowing in from the Pacific and I can’t reach the research boat. They’re not answering their radio, they’re probably in the water.”

“Oh no,” I whispered, setting down the book we’d been using to learn phonics. “They’re out near the birthing cove, there’s protection from a storm surge there if they know to get to it.”

“I’m going to take the Astar out after them,” Annabella told me. It was the private boat of the businessman who owned the house and was never used unless his butt was on it.

“No, if there’s a squall, you need to be here with Maria,” I told her, already starting to braid my hair in rapid movements. I’d started letting it hang lose in the afternoons because Veronica liked it down. My hands tightened for a moment before my tendrils took over, the limbs creating quick plaits in my waist-length hair faster than my hands ever could. “I’ll go, if I get pushed underwater, I can breath just fine. Veronica’s car is here, I’ll head out to the cliff that over looks the cove and help them bring the boat ashore. I’ll radio in or call you when I find them.”

Veronica looked at me and then at Maria, clearly torn between staying with her ward and finding her husband. She turned an expectant look at me. “You’ll bring them in?”

“Or move the entire Sea trying,” I swore to her.

Once outside, keys to the quirky Beatle that Veronica loved for reasons beyond me in hand, I could feel the change in the air from just a few hours ago. The weather forecast had said nothing of a squall or even its potential this morning. The morning’s tranquil chill had bled to a snapping cold with clouds a furious grey rolling in. I could see the distant flash of lightning over the waters where the Sea of Cortez met with the Pacific Ocean.

This was going to be one hell of a squall, if the charge I felt in the atmosphere was any indication. There was an almost familiar quality to the air, like something was calling to me. I brushed the feeling aside and focused on the complicated dance between clutch, stick, gas and breaks in the ancient car. It ran smoothly enough, if one was adept at the dance.

For me, it stalled at every other stop but was faster than running would have been. Rain fell like a tap opened overhead, fat drops splattering on the windshield as I came to a gravely stop near a low cliff. Looking into the bay, I could see the bobbing dive boat but no one was on it. They were still in the water.

Heart in my throat, I threw my clothing into the car and keys into the car. Taking one last look at the dive boat, I took a running leap off the cliff and into the water crashing thirty feet below. I hit the water like a knife, slicing into the surf and deeper. The water crashed against me even twenty feet below the surface as I threw myself forward, tendrils helping speed and stabilize my swimming.

I surfaced to get a visual on the boat as it was swamped with a large wave, obviously pulling at its anchor. I adjusted my trajectory and dove back down, eyes scanning the water as I looked for my lover and friend. They met me at about forty feet deep, eyes wide behind their dive masks. Twin tanks on their backs told me they’d planned on a long dive, but when I signaled for air checks the answer said they’d already been down for an hour and more. There was precious little in those tanks now.

I could hear lightning crashing overhead as I led them to the boat, calling my power to me. The water around my eyes began to shimmer as I felt my eyes glow with power. I screamed at the storm, fighting to hold it at bay in a small local area like I’d done other times before.

It didn’t work.

Frustration and worry filled me as I pushed upward, keeping a one eye on the divers and the other for debris. Twice I intercepted a piece of Heaven knows what to keep it from slamming into Veronica or Mauricio. The blows were jarring and I heard a snap from my left arm on the second one. I tucked the injured limb against my stomach and kept swimming. There was no time to stop.

The boat was nearly flooded by the time I physically dragged Veronica and Mauricio on board. I left them to sort that out and cut the anchor loose. I’d find it later. I wanted to get the boat and my gasping family into shore and away from the water. I saw three shapes glide beneath me for a second, could feel Star, Malcolm and Helix in the water nearby. I knew they’d help if it came to it.

Veronica had to help me start the engine, my obviously broken left arm useless for the purpose. Mauricio was still unbuckling himself from the heavy tanks but V had slid out faster. She coaxed the engine to life and we turned our nose to shore.

I calmed what I could, lessening the swell to ten feet but even that had me sweating, the heat startling against my skin before the icy rain drove it away. There was no stopping the rain or anything else. I couldn’t stop the sudden rush of water out of the cove and I don’t believe any force or being could have stopped the fifty-foot wave that slammed into us all. Star and Malcolm had time to get deep enough to avoid being thrown ashore, but Helix was on the same wild ride we were and I had to chose between my pup and my lover and friend.

God help me.

I grabbed Veronica with one tendril, Mauricio with another and held us all to the boat, every bit of power I could muster keeping us at the top of the wave as it rose and rose and rose.

Until it crested and crashed into the rocky beach, slamming us all onto the floorboards of the boat. I felt Helix slide back out into the cove with the water as we were flung to land behind a cluster of knobby trees. The water tried to pull the boat back out but it crashed into the trees. My head slammed into the metal gear locker and stars filled my vision before things went black.

There were voices, strangers.

The crunch of gravel under the feet of many when I could feel Veronica in one tendril, Mauricio in another, both catching their breath, too exhausted to move. My arm complained loudly to tell me it was for real broken as I tried to push myself up, to see what was going on.

There were humans closer to the water and probably couldn’t see the boat. Most likely hadn’t even looked.

There was a commotion among them, the words “shark” and “get him” prominent in their rapid chatter. I forced myself up and saw a team of people wearing bright blue shirts with white words stating they were from Oceana Rescue Team, whoever the heck that was. They were wading into the water, a large stretcher slung between them.

The length of canvas had holes cut out, like ones they’d use to transport an injured dolphin or orca.

Or… no…

I saw a woman walk out of the water and talk to a man in a black suit that looked so out of place that for a moment I wondered if he was real. They conferred for a moment before his voice grew louder.

“I don’t care if it hasn’t been done before,” he yelled at her over the surf. The storm seemed to be past, the skies filled with fluffy bits of cloud and a bit of wind. “I want that animal on a the transport boat that will be here in ten minutes and I want it at the aquarium ASAP. Make it happen, its what I pay you for.”

As he turned away, I got a look at him. Strong features in bronze skin, dark brown eyes and a scar that ran along the side of his jaw on the right side. He was handsome in a rugged way that his suit didn’t detract from, though I didn’t realize it then. He said something else to the woman who’d walked out of the water to talk to him, then pulled out his phone and climbed into the back seat of a waiting SUV. The large black thing started moving as soon as he closed the door.

I tried to get up. To move. To stop them. Tried to scream, to call the water to keep the boat away and drown the humans.

But none of it worked and they loaded Helix, my baby, my boy, they loaded him onto the stretcher and onto a boat.

He was stunned from the storm-tossing, breathing but not much more and couldn’t fight against so many hands in a weakened state.

The “rescue” team loaded him onto a boat, packed up and left, all with me struggling to get free from equipment and ropes. I was weak, the fight with the storm and wave having drained me in a way I’d never felt before.

They took my baby. I was going to get him back. Then I was going to kill the man in the suit.

Girl’s gotta have a plan, right?