Erhalten Sie Zugang zu diesem und mehr als 300000 Büchern ab EUR 5,99 monatlich.
- Herausgeber: Orenda Books
- Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
- Sprache: Englisch
Lennox, Vonnie and Ava head to Greenland to meet up with Heather, Sandy and the Enceladons, commencing an epic showdown that will change everything … The emotive, devastating yet ultimately life-affirming conclusion to the bestselling Enceladons Trilogy… `An affecting and thought-provoking read. Johnstone's worldbuilding is top notch in this pacy eco-alien tale of peril and hope´ Tendai Huchu `Doug Johnstone has emerged as the unholy, octopoid lovechild of David Attenborough and Michael Crichton … a thrilling, action-packed adventure´ Callum McSorley `Surprising, compelling and out of this world´ Ann Morgan `A delight! We need more novels that take on human exceptionalism with such gusto´ Ever Dundas ______ It's been eighteen months since the Enceladons escaped the clutches of an American military determined to exterminate the peaceful alien creatures. Lennox and Vonnie have been lying low in the Scottish Highlands, Ava has been caring for her young daughter Chloe, and Heather is adjusting to her new life with Sandy and the other Enceladons in the Arctic Ocean, off the coast of Greenland. But fate is about to bring them together again for one last battle. When Lennox and Vonnie are visited by Karl Jensen, a Norwegian billionaire intent on making contact with the Encedalons again, they are wary of subjecting the aliens to further dangers. But when word arrives that Ava's daughter has suffered an attack and might die without urgent help, they reluctantly make the trip to Greenland, where they enlist the vital help of local woman Niviaq. It's not long before they're drawn into a complex web of lies, deceit and death. What is Karl's company really up to? Why are sea creatures attacking boats? Why is Sandy acting so strangely, and why are polar bears getting involved? Profound, ambitious and immensely moving, The Transcendent Tide is the epic conclusion to the Encedalons Trilogy – a final showdown between the best and worst of humanity, the animal kingdom and the Encedalons. The future of life on earth will be changed forever, but not everyone will survive to see it… ______ `A brilliant novel … a timely meditation on man's destructive nature´ Ambrose Parry `Wonderfully drawn … a serious critique of the state of the world today in a tense thriller anchored in the lives of ordinary people´ James Oswald `One of the best writers of his generation´ CrimeTime `The perfect end to the perfect trilogy´ Michael Wood `Powerful, profound, prescient and pacy´ Lyndsey Croal Praise for The Trilogy *Selected for BBC 2 Between the Covers 2023* *Longlisted for the McIlvanney Prize* `I loved it´ Sara Cox `A barnstorming thriller … a wonderful and radical sense of a greater, wider way of seeing life on our planet´ Martin MacInnes `Science fiction gains a new author´ Derek B. Miller `If you read one life-affirming book this year, make sure it's this one´ Nina Pottell, Prima `Prioritising pace, tension and high stakes … a plea for empathy, compassion and perspective´ Herald Scotland `An emotionally engaging read´ Guardian `A delicious, demanding departure´ Val McDermid
Sie lesen das E-Book in den Legimi-Apps auf:
Seitenzahl: 349
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025
Das E-Book (TTS) können Sie hören im Abo „Legimi Premium” in Legimi-Apps auf:
Ähnliche
i
THANK YOU FOR DOWNLOADING
THIS ORENDA BOOKS EBOOK!
Join our mailing list now, to get exclusive deals, special offers, subscriber-only content, recommended reads, updates on new releases, giveaways, and so much more!
CLICK HERE TO SIGN UP
Thanks for reading!
TEAM ORENDA
ii
PRAISE FOR THE TRANSCENDENT TIDE
‘A barnstorming thriller … and a wonderful and radical sense of a greater, wider way of seeing life on our planet’ Martin MacInnes
‘Doug Johnstone has crash landed into the world of sci fi, emerging from the wreckage as the unholy, octopoid lovechild of David Attenborough and Michael Crichton. Through a thrilling, action-packed adventure in the breathtaking surrounds of Greenland, Johnstone howls his desperate message of climate change and human folly. But with his always wonderfully realised characters – human and otherwise – he gives us hope: maybe it’s not too late’ Callum McSorely
‘Such an affecting and thought-provoking read. Johnstone’s worldbuilding is top notch in this pacy eco-alien tale of peril and hope. I enjoyed every single sentence’ Tendai Huchu
‘A delight! We need more novels that take on human exceptionalism with such gusto’ Ever Dundas
‘The perfect end to the perfect trilogy’ Michael Wood
‘Equal parts powerful, profound, prescient and pacy, The Transcendent Tide explores big concepts with flair and ease. A brilliant near-future tale, told beautifully, and sure to appeal to sci fi and thriller fans alike’ Lyndsey Croal
‘A brilliant novel, handling complex themes with great skill, at once a breakneck thriller and a timely meditation on man’s destructive nature’ Ambrose Parry
‘As gripping as it is clever, The Transcendent Tide drives to a terrifying conclusion, and reveals the best and worst of humanity along the way. Johnstone fuses a scientist’s logic with a master storyteller’s art. Surprising, compelling and out of this world’ Ann Morgan
‘Doug wraps up a serious critique of the state of the world today in a tense thriller anchored in the lives of ordinary people. Excellent stuff!’ James Oswald
‘These books have totally taken me outside my comfort reading and I have loved them! … The characters are all brilliant and they will certainly find a place in your heart – especially Sandy’ Independent Book Reviews iii
PRAISE FOR THE ENCELADONS TRILOGY
**Selected for BBC Two Between the Covers 2023**
**Longlisted for the McIlvanney Prize for Scottish Crime Book of the Year**
‘A gateway book to sci fi … I loved it’ Sara Cox
‘So readable and accessible’ Alan Davies
‘If you read one life-affirming book this year, make sure it’s this one’ Prima
‘Prioritising pace, tension and high stakes … a plea for empathy, compassion and perspective’ Herald Scotland
‘An emotionally engaging read’ Guardian
‘Johnstone doesn’t shy away from complex themes and smartly leverages the lens of science fiction to cut deep into the human experience’ SciFi Now Book of the Month
‘A delicious, demanding departure’ Val McDermid
‘As moving as it is magical and mysterious’ Mark Billingham
‘A first-contact tale full of heart and high-octane action’ D.V. Bishop
‘Science fiction gains a new author’ Derek B. Miller
‘An adrenaline-filled ride of a novel, laced with empathy and understanding’ Rachelle Atalla
‘Pay attention, Steven Spielberg! This could be your next film’ Marnie Riches
‘Clever and unusual … I was on a journey with these characters, and completely transfixed’ Susi Holliday
‘A mesmerising tale of wonder and hope’ Marion Todd
‘Doug Johnstone’s fresh-take on sci fi was awesome’ Scott Tucker
‘Elements of the story are gut-wrenching … others are so heartwarming, showing that compassion and care can still persist even in the face of hatred, fear and selfishness’ Jen Med’s Book Reviews
iv
THE TRANSCENDENT TIDE
DOUG JOHNSTONE
vi
vii
For Triciaviii
CONTENTS
1
LENNOX
Lennox watched Greg lift the rifle and point it at the seal. The water was calm, their small RIB steady. Lennox looked at the young harbour seal basking on the shale beach of the headland. It raised its head, eyeing them in the boat. The bang of the gun made Lennox jump. Greg lowered the rifle and lifted his binoculars. ‘Bullseye.’
<Christ.> This was Vonnie’s voice in Lennox’s head, as familiar as breathing.
He looked past Greg to her, standing at the prow of the boat. <I know, right?>
He lifted his own binoculars and checked the seal, the tranquiliser dart stuck in its rump. It was squirming, staring at the dart, rolling in discomfort.
Greg started the engine and they kicked up some water as they approached. Lennox kept watching the seal. It was already slowing, and lowered its head on a rock, whiskers twitching, eyes blinking heavily.
<It never gets easier.>
He turned at Vonnie’s voice in his mind. Greg had no idea they could communicate like this, no one knew except a couple of people, friends they shared the gift with. Friends they hadn’t seen in eighteen months.
Lennox shook his head at Vonnie. She wore a grey beanie against the cold breeze, black hair tumbling to her shoulders, a SAMS hoodie and hiking shorts, black boots and thick socks. Her green eyes were full of conflict, a feeling Lennox shared.
What they were doing here was a good thing, right? He had to 2keep reminding himself, especially in that moment when Greg or one of the other post-doc researchers shot a defenceless seal. He had a flashback to standing on the shore of Loch Broom a year and a half ago, American marines firing into the water, trying to hit Sandy, the octopoid creature who’d travelled millions of miles to Earth, who’d connected with Lennox in a way that no one, not even Vonnie, had matched. Lennox and Vonnie had been held captive at an American military base outside Ullapool along with their friends Ava and Heather. The Americans were there to exterminate Sandy and the other Enceladons – intelligent octopus and giant jellyfish creatures who’d come to Earth from the under-ice ocean of Saturn’s moon Enceladus. Lennox and the others had originally saved Sandy, but the authorities saw these wonderful creatures as an existential threat and tried to wipe them out.
They were a few metres from the shore now where the seal still moved a little, drowsy and confused. The orange flight of the sedative dart was garish against its mottled grey fur, something artificial in this natural place. It made Lennox think how ridiculous the human race was. How they considered themselves above nature. Sandy, that octopoid creature, along with their fellow alien Enceladons, couldn’t understand how humanity worked. The way we tortured and killed each other in our millions, along with billions of animals, the environment, the planet. Human exceptionalism gave us licence to destroy our home and ourselves.
Lennox looked back at the cluster of low buildings on the shore, the Scottish Association for Marine Science campus. He and Vonnie had just finished their first year studying here, immersing themselves in the biology, chemistry and geology of marine life. Sitting in a classroom listening to lectures was frustrating, but the plus side was this place. The campus was in Dunstaffnage, a few miles north of Oban on the west coast of the Highlands, and their poky student residence was only two minutes from the beach. SAMS had kayaks and scuba gear they could use whenever they wanted, and they spent 3every possible moment in the water, watching crabs and lobsters scuttling along the bottom, seals playing in the surf, fish of all kinds, porpoises and dolphins further out.
And every now and then jellyfish and octopuses. Each time, the sight of them made Lennox’s heart thump, and he would shout out from his mind, as if he was back with the Enceladons in Loch Broom.
<Sandy?> He sent it out now for the millionth time, a message into the ether, hoping his friend would hear him and pop out of the water with that crazy light display of theirs.
Vonnie moved to him in the boat and touched his back. <It’s OK.>
She’d heard him and he felt embarrassed. But Vonnie missed Sandy too. Anyone who’d come into contact with those extraordinary creatures would feel lost without that connection. Lennox had chosen not to go with them to the Arctic Ocean when they fled human persecution in Scotland, but he couldn’t imagine his life stretching into the future without Sandy in it.
‘He’s gone over,’ Greg said, pointing at the seal.
They covered the last few metres to shore. Lennox and Vonnie jumped out and pulled the RIB onto the beach, splashing through the cold water.
The smell of the seal hit him – fish, ammonia and wet dog. But they’d been tagging seals for a month now, he was used to it.
Greg’s research was into migration patterns and feeding methods, so he was tagging as many local seals as possible. He’d needed help over the summer, and Lennox and Vonnie had nowhere else to go. They’d kept their heads down ever since the events at Loch Broom, so an obscure campus in a remote corner of the Scottish Highlands suited them fine.
Greg clambered out with a rucksack. He was over six feet, freckly and pale, spindly legs like a giant crab. He was earnest about his research, but Lennox thought it was kind of pointless. He and Vonnie had swum with telepathic creatures, a hundred times bigger than 4seals, that were part of an interconnected collective. Lennox had been down in the murky depths of Loch Ness with Sandy, and up into space with Xander, the giant jellyfish creature that was like a big brother to Sandy. Being stuck in a human body on the shore felt pitiful in comparison.
Lennox looked across the Firth of Lorn at the low shadow of Lismore Island in the distance, spotted the white lighthouse at the southern tip. In the firth, the ferry from Oban was chugging along, a speck dwarfed by the enormity of the landscape. Humans were insignificant, and being in the proximity of nature brought that home.
Greg unpacked his bag and they set about tagging the animal. The tracker was a small waterproof plastic pack that housed a chip and a battery, a short antenna sticking out from the top. Vonnie stroked the seal’s head as Lennox got out the glue and squirted a square onto the back of its neck. Greg fixed the device. The seal would moult its fur eventually and the tracker would be lost. Researchers always said the devices were unobtrusive and didn’t upset the seals, but Lennox wasn’t convinced. He wished he was telepathic with animals so he could know for sure. The plastic box looked ridiculous stuck to the poor animal’s scruff. Lennox reminded himself that this work was done to better understand and protect these animals. But maybe they should just be left alone.
Vonnie caught his eye. <It doesn’t do any harm.>
‘Are we sure?’ Lennox said.
Greg turned. ‘What?’
Lennox widened his eyes at Vonnie over the mistake of speaking out loud. ‘Are we sure he’s not going to wake up, I mean?’
Greg fiddled with his phone, synching the signal from the tracker with the monitoring app. ‘We have some time yet.’
Lennox looked at the seal, its eyes watering, whiskers drooped.
He heard a noise and turned. Saw something in the sky, a helicopter. Not one of the tourist ones you occasionally saw around here, faster and sleeker. 5
It was soon above them, the noise of the blades deafening. Lennox glanced at Vonnie, who shrugged. The helicopter descended as it reached the mainland, hovered over the field next to the SAMS campus. Lennox saw a logo on the side that made him tense up – a circle with tentacles coming from behind it, as if a giant octopus was attacking a planet or moon.
The helicopter landed and cut the engines, then the door opened and a man and woman got out. They looked across the bay to where Lennox, Vonnie and Greg stood with the seal. The man put a hand up to shade his eyes. Then they turned and walked towards the main SAMS building.
Lennox looked at Vonnie and saw the fear in her eyes. They both knew this was bad news.
2
AVA
‘I’ll never tire of this view,’ Freya said.
Ava glanced at her little sister. Unruly red curls, hourglass figure in a Big Black T-shirt and shorts. Steam drifted from her coffee into the air. Ava looked at Chloe a few yards away on the beach, hunkered at a rockpool in just a babygro, a piece of brown seaweed stuck to her foot.
<Be careful,> Ava sent. Her daughter didn’t look round.
Sheba was sniffing around the rockpools, staying close to Chloe. Freya had picked the collie up from the local shelter a year ago, and the dog instantly bonded with Chloe in a way that made Ava suspicious. Her daughter was two and still hadn’t spoken out loud, and Ava wondered if it was to do with her telepathy. If you didn’t have to speak, why would you? Maybe Chloe didn’t understand yet that not everyone could do what she and Ava did. But the way the dog reacted to Chloe’s feelings made Ava think it could sense something. She tried not to worry about that. If her daughter could communicate with animals as well as humans, what kind of life would she have?
Ava turned to Freya. ‘Much on today?’
Freya sipped her coffee. ‘Couple of small jobs to finish off.’
Freya was a freelance graphic designer, which meant she could work from anywhere. And where better than Ratagan, the middle of nowhere on the empty side of Loch Duich?
Ava looked across calm water at the Kintail mountains. Freya’s house had been the perfect place to retreat to after the craziness of last year at Loch Broom, a backwater where Ava could concentrate on Chloe. 7
<Crab, Mummy.>
Ava’s heart swelled at her daughter’s voice in her mind. Most mothers had a deep understanding of their young daughters, but Ava had something special, could feel Chloe’s moods as strongly as her own and hear her voice in her head. Just before Chloe was born, Ava had panicked that there was something wrong with her daughter. Sandy intervened in a bathtub in the Highlands, connecting with both Ava and Chloe in utero, and reassuring Ava that the girl was OK. But that had connected Ava and Chloe in a deeper way than any humans had ever experienced before. They could feel each other’s feelings and it had changed their relationship forever. Imagine if everyone had this?
She’d explained it to Freya, who said she believed her, but Ava knew it sounded crazy. For now, Ava was taking each day as it came, happy that both of them were safe. They’d been through so much together already, every new day felt like a blessing.
She walked over to Chloe, on her knees and peering into the rockpool. The girl had lifted a stone and was trailing a finger in the clear water.
Ava loved bringing Chloe rockpooling, it reminded her of Sandy and the Enceladons. They were many times bigger than the tiny creatures on the beach, but since the Enceladons came to Earth they were all now part of the same ecosystem. Ava missed her connection with them, but her family was here. The only connection she needed was with Chloe.
<Yes, honey, that’s a shore crab, be gentle with it.>
Chloe had the crab between her thumb and forefinger, touching the shell delicately. Ava saw the green underbelly, brown on top. She remembered Sandy’s light displays, Xander and the other Enceladons too, the brilliance of it. But every creature was special, right?
Chloe held the crab up and grinned at Ava, who felt a shiver. One day this little girl would be a woman with her own life, but for now she was all Ava’s. Chloe put the crab back carefully. It was natural for 8toddlers to appreciate every life, but that somehow got drummed out of us along the way.
<Look.> Chloe pointed, and Ava saw two miniscule shrimp, almost transparent, tails flicking.
<See their little antennae?>
Sheba came over and stuck her nose in.
Chloe looked at the dog and it stepped back.
Ava stood and stretched, breathed deeply, widened her eyes.
‘You two are so funny,’ Freya said, coming over. ‘Obsessed with all the little things.’
‘Little things are important.’
Freya rolled her eyes. ‘And everything’s connected, yada, yada, yada. I get it.’
Ava laughed. She understood her sister’s cynicism. She would’ve been the same if she hadn’t experienced Sandy and the Enceladons. They’d shifted her mind at a fundamental level.
<Mummy?>
Ava turned and saw Chloe resting her head on a rock, as if it was too heavy for her. Her arms were trembling by her side. Ava sensed the girl’s anxiety. ‘What’s up, sweetheart?’
Sheba started barking, first at Chloe, as if an invisible demon was behind her, then at Ava and Freya.
Chloe sat down heavily on the stones and looked around with dazed eyes. She raised her shaking hands and frowned at them.
The barking filled the air as Ava crouched and held Chloe’s hands. <What’s the matter?>
<Sore.> The word was accompanied by a pounding pain that Ava felt in her own heart, distress from the girl swirling inside her as Ava tried to hide her rising concern.
‘Sheba.’ Freya grabbed the dog’s collar and pulled her away. ‘Shush now.’
<Mummy.> Confusion on Chloe’s face, tears in her eyes.
<Baby, it’s OK.> 9
Ava lifted Chloe in her arms just as the girl vomited. <Shit, Chloe.>
Freya’s eyes went wide as Ava looked around in panic.
Sheba had shut up now and somehow the silence was worse than the barking.
Chloe closed her eyes and went limp in Ava’s arms.
Ava’s anxiety rose from her stomach to her throat and she struggled to breathe. <Chloe?> She didn’t feel anything in her mind. The emptiness was overwhelming. ‘Chloe? Shit.’
Freya shook her head. ‘We have to get her to a doctor.’
Ava lifted Chloe’s eyelid and her eye was rolled way back. ‘Christ.’
Freya was already walking up the beach to the road. ‘I’ll get the car.’
Ava was right behind, the smell of sick in her nostrils, fear in her mind. The pain she’d felt from Chloe a moment ago was the same pain she’d felt the first time she encountered Sandy, when she almost died of a stroke.
She hugged Chloe’s body to her chest as she scrambled up the stones, telling herself it was going to be OK, Chloe was going to be OK.
3
NIVIAQ
Niviaq steered the boat through patches of ice, heading for the mouth of the bay. She glanced back at the brightly painted houses of Tasiilaq, home for most of her life. It felt claustrophobic at times, but out here on the water, with the Arctic wind in her face, she felt free. A couple of months ago, she couldn’t have used the boat at all because of the thick sea ice. But now it had broken up just enough, and for this small window in the summer she was intent on making the most of the opportunity to get on the water.
She passed the derelict houses of Ittaajik then an old hunting hut, then headed northeast up Ammassalik Fjord. Larger chunks of ice here, some bergs from the summer glacier melt. Snowy mountains loomed to her left. The sun shone but the air was sharp, and she raised a hand to secure her wool headband, zipped her jacket tighter.
She tried to shake the dream from her mind. She’d been having these dreams for months, had never told anyone. Her mother would’ve fussed over them, claiming they were a warning sent by the spirits. Niviaq was torn about all that. She’d been raised on Inuit tradition, Greenlandic myths and legends, and respected that stuff. Her three years at university in Copenhagen had given her a wider perspective, but she’d been lonely on campus, her skin colour and Inuit tattoos making her stand out against the blonde hair and blue eyes of her fellow students.
When her mum called in deepest January to say that her sister Maliina had walked out onto the ice in the night and never come back, Niviaq sat alone in her student room and cried for three hours straight. Crying for her loss, but also because Maliina’s darkness 11meant it wasn’t completely unexpected. The next day she quit university and flew straight home to her mother’s arms, both of them lost in grief while they tried to take care of Maliina’s daughter, Pipaluk. When Maliina’s decomposed body washed up months later in the thaw, Niviaq felt none of the closure she’d read about in books.
The dreams spooked her. Strange octopuses and giant jellyfish beckoning her into the water, talking to her in her mind, enveloping her body within theirs, swimming faster than a narwhal or beluga, moving through each other’s bodies like they were ghosts.
Other strange things were happening around here. All up the east coast there had been many more sightings of marine mammals than usual, even some that were rarely found here like blue whales. And the northern lights, artsarniid, had been dancing for months, even in summer. Also, there had been sightings of underwater lights, creatures moving in the fog on the sea ice, glowing and shape-shifting. Niviaq would normally have ignored all that superstitious stuff but the dreams felt connected. They made her feel connected somehow.
To her right she could see a boat, it looked like the Maqe brothers, Aqqalu and Nuka. They would be hunting seal, or anything bigger if they stumbled on it. The seas were full of food right now. Niviaq had been brought up to hunt, knew how to use a rifle, but that wasn’t why she was out today.
She scanned the horizon, just land and sea and ice and snow in every direction, the blue sky painfully bright, the sun shining in a way it never did in Copenhagen. It wasn’t as strong here, but it was somehow purer.
She saw a harp seal on an ice floe nursing its baby and thought about her sister. Her mother insisted it was an accident, but Maliina always had a darkness that haunted her. The suicide rates in Greenland were so high it was a scandal. A YouTuber recently visited Tasiilaq, calling it ‘the most suicidal town in the world’ for his millions of followers, and only talked about alcoholism and domestic violence, none of the positive sides of their culture. But the numbers 12were undeniable, young people were killing themselves at a frightening rate. Niviaq had felt a little of that darkness in Copenhagen. Being separated from her home like that had frightened her more than she’d admitted to anyone.
She spotted something on an ice floe, a dark shape. Lifted the binoculars, presuming it was another seal. But it was a human shape, arm dangling in the water, face obscured. She swallowed hard, lowered the binoculars and frowned as she looked around. She lifted the glasses to check again, definitely a person. What the hell?
She steered towards them, cut the engine and brought the boat alongside. Bumped the ice and grabbed the man’s arm, held onto him with one hand and a hooked pole to turn the boat until the transom was alongside, then heaved him with a mighty effort onto the deck.
He was in a black uniform with a dark life jacket on top. She turned him over. He looked Scandinavian, fair hair in a buzzcut, a few days of stubble. She checked his pulse, faint but still there. He was breathing but his body temperature was low.
She got a blanket from a cupboard in the cockpit and brought it over, then started to take his uniform off. Wet clothes were a sure way of getting hypothermia, even in summer. She eased his boots off, then the trousers. He had a logo on the upper arm of his jacket, a moon or planet surrounded by tentacles. She thought of her dreams, the otherworldly octopuses and jellyfish. She removed the jacket and his fleece, then wrapped him in the thermal blanket.
She went back to the helm and took a long look all around, first with the naked eye, then with the binoculars. She couldn’t see a boat anywhere, no signs of human activity. What was he doing out here?
She started the engine and headed back towards Tasiilaq, staring at the tentacles on the logo and thinking about her dreams. They were connected, but she couldn’t work out how.
4
HEATHER
She looked down at her tentacles propelling her through the water and wondered if she would ever get used to this. She wasn’t Enceladon but she wasn’t human anymore either. She looked across at Jodie as they looped around each other. Jodie was at the same stage of transformation as Heather, and Heather could see the remnants of her facial features beneath the surface of her octopoid head, the hands and feet that had morphed into tentacles as they’d slowly separated themselves from their Enceladon mentors.
They passed a school of Arctic char and Heather saw a wolffish below them. One of the millions of things that had amazed her in the last year and a half was how much life was in the ocean. Humans couldn’t comprehend the scale of the ecosystem down here, immeasurable numbers of flourishing creatures.
Jodie flickered blue light down her head to two tentacles, and Heather understood and followed her to a colony of harp seals near the surface, little arrows perfectly suited to their environment. As a human, Heather had only seen seals basking on the shore, where they seemed like vulnerable bags of blubber. But here they were skilful predators, chasing the char as Heather and Jodie followed.
Heather, Jodie and the other ten Outwithers who travelled with the Enceladons from Scotland to the Arctic Ocean had all had an insane eighteen months. To begin with they were each paired up with an Enceladon who wrapped their body around their human, protected them from the cold, allowed them to breathe, communicated with them. Heather had been paired with Sandy. As well as being wrapped in their octopus mentors, the humans spent 14time inside the larger jellyfish creatures, Xander in Heather’s case, while Jodie lived inside Yolanda. The names were arbitrary, for human use, the Enceladons didn’t understand individuality. Gradually, the humans’ bodies changed, they could breathe underwater, didn’t feel the cold. They shifted from human to octopoid, bones dissolving, limbs turning to tentacles, heads enlarging. For the last nine months they’d been able to swim on their own, adapting more every day, getting used to their new bodies. Their telepathy became stronger, so they could communicate with each other more clearly. But there was still a lot of psychological distance between them and the Enceladons because they’d evolved on different worlds, in different environments and cultures.
Heather knew that the distance would never be fully closed. She and the others would never be completely Enceladon, a naïve dream at the start of all this. She’d walked into the water with Sandy because she was fed up with being human, with humanity. She’d dreamed of being part of something, and she was. But the idea that she could become part of a completely alien society and mindset was a pipe dream.
She still had a lot of developing to do. She still didn’t think of herself as they, like Sandy and the other Enceladons did, but she certainly felt more multitudinous than the lonely human she had been. She was beginning to feel her tentacles think for themselves, collections of neurons sending signals to her brain.
And, like Jodie, she was beginning to use the light display on her skin, shift the shape and texture of her body. This was the most amazing journey into otherness, beyond anything she could’ve imagined, and she was grateful for it. But she wasn’t yet ready to give up some of being human.
The seals had stopped chasing the char and now slowed, floating to the surface to pop their heads up and breathe.
<They’re so beautiful.> Jodie’s voice was warm in Heather’s mind. Jodie still had a trace of her London accent, just as Heather had a 15trace of her East Lothian one. She had a brief shimmer of nostalgia, pictured Paul and Rosie in their garden. Then she remembered that her teenage daughter was dead and her marriage gone, and she shivered down her tentacles as she joined Jodie near the surface.
<They really are.>
The seals were used to the Enceladons, didn’t see them as a threat. A couple of older pups sniffed at Heather’s body, their whiskers shifting in the current. Heather could smell them, had begun to have a really strong sense of smell, could detect the difference between cod and halibut, crabs and shrimp. She reached out a tentacle to the nearest pup as Jodie swam around the colony.
Heather heard a distant pop and one of the seals at the surface jolted in the water, then blood began pouring from its head. As it rolled over in the water, the other seals scattered from it.
<What the hell?> Jodie sent.
Heather saw the bullet hole at the back of the seal’s neck, blood descending into the sea like a red veil, the animal’s eyes already blank.
The other seals were agitated and swimming around the body, nudging it with their noses. Some of them poked their heads above the surface and Heather wanted to tell them to stop, to get far away from here.
She snuck her own head out the water and spotted a boat heading towards them, two men in it, one pointing a rifle.
<Hunters. They have to get out of here.>
Jodie flashed in response and they swam to the seals, still circling their dead friend. Heather and Jodie enlarged their bodies and heads as far as they could go, flashed a warning to them, eventually pushing them away from the corpse as the sound of the engine got louder.
Heather turned and saw the boat’s hull then shoved the nearest seal, which darted downward into the murk. The others followed, leaving the dead seal floating and leaking blood. Heather and Jodie swam in the opposite direction.
Jodie flashed red at her. <I hate that.> 16
Jodie was better at light displays than Heather. At a basic level their light displays were a mix of emotions and communication, but the Enceladons had a complexity to theirs that still dumbfounded Heather.
She felt a shrug flow through her body. <Me too, but at least it was locals. Part of the ecosystem.>
Jodie swam above her. <It’s still awful.>
They’d been over this before. One of the things they’d developed as they’d transformed was their EM detectors, which allowed them to tune into different wavelengths on the electromagnetic spectrum, including human communications. It had made Heather laugh when she first met Sandy, that they had access to the human internet. Imagine being exposed to all the insanity of social media when you had only ever lived as an oceanic collective on an alien moon. But the internet had been an anchor for Heather as she transformed, a last vestige of humanity to hold on to. She’d used it to research the Greenlandic people, their relationship to the land and sea. The Inuit idea of reciprocity, take only what you need, give thanks to the creature who gave its life for you. She was as shocked as Jodie to see it in action, but she found it hard to condemn the Greenlandic hunters and fishers.
She heard a noise and wondered if the hunters were on their trail.
Jodie flashed. <What’s that?>
Heather spun round, spotted a light in the distance. It got closer, the light spreading ahead of it. Gradually it resolved into a small vehicle with a torch on the front. It moved fast, a trail of bubbles from a propeller at the back.
Heather waved at Jodie. <Underwater drone.>
<What’s it doing here? We should go.>
They should, but Heather thought about the harp seal, then she thought of the giant fish-processing ships she’d seen from a distance, scooping up every living thing in the ocean, despite the fact it was banned here by international treaty. She thought about how terribly humans treated the world. 17
She arrowed her head and swam under the drone.
Jodie hesitated. <Where are you going?>
<Fuck this.> When the drone’s light was above her, Heather launched herself upward. The beam caught Jodie in its glare and she darted away, as Heather grabbed the vehicle in her tentacles, ripping the light from the front, buckling the metal body, tearing at the camera until it came free. She ripped the rear thruster from its casing and squeezed again until the drone was a crumpled piece of human garbage that had no place here.
5
LENNOX
Rebecca was waiting impatiently at the shore. Professor Rivera was associate director of SAMS but insisted everyone call her Rebecca, it was that kind of place.
Greg landed the RIB on the beach and the three of them jumped out. Lennox looked at the helicopter on the grass. It was very sleek, a uniformed pilot stretching his legs round the back. The logo was clear, tentacles and a cratered moon.
‘Come on,’ Rebecca said. She was short and lean, black hair tied up, Mexican accent. Saving the oceans was an international task. She pointed at Lennox and Vonnie. ‘He’s waiting for you two.’
Vonnie frowned. ‘Who?’
‘Karl Jensen, that’s who.’
Lennox knew the name, of course. Norwegian billionaire who’d made his money in tech, a handful of apps that caught fire. But the overarching company, KJI, had branched out into other fields, growing exponentially. Everyone at SAMS knew of him because he’d spent years and millions helping ocean conservation projects. He’d developed a non-intrusive way of cleaning up the Great Pacific Garbage Patch using bioengineered algae, and made more billions doing it.
Lennox glanced at Vonnie. <What the hell?>
‘Why does he want to speak to us?’ Vonnie said.
‘Just come on.’ Rebecca glanced at their scruffy clothes and wet boots as she ushered them towards the building. ‘He recently donated a large sum to the running of SAMS. Very large, you understand? So whatever he wants, the answer is yes.’
<Fuck that,> Lennox sent. Jensen buying his way into SAMS was 19suspicious. Why would someone embedded in late-stage capitalism suddenly be interested in a tiny research project like this?
Vonnie looked at him. <This stinks.>
Rebecca opened the door to her office and shoved them inside.
Karl Jensen was standing next to a blonde woman, both of them looking at a large bathymetric map of the sea floor on the wall, which covered the area from Loch Linnhe up through The Minch. Lennox spotted Loch Broom at the top of the map and felt a little queasy.
Karl turned. He looked younger than forty-five, tall and lean, short and messy brown hair, a light beard, bright-blue eyes. He wore a chunky, ribbed polo neck and jeans, like someone pretending to be an old sea dog. The woman was a little shorter and younger, impeccably put together in an understated suit, hair in a neat ponytail, professional smile, holding an iPad.
She turned to Rebecca. ‘Thank you, Professor Rivera.’
Rebecca flushed. ‘I was hoping —’
‘Thank you.’
Rebecca gave them a warning stare as she left the room – Don’t fuck this up.
Karl walked over and grinned, shook Lennox and Vonnie by the hand, holding on too long, examining their faces.
‘My name is Karl Jensen.’ He held out a hand to the blonde woman. ‘And this is Britt Pedersen, my right-hand woman.’ His Norwegian accent had an American twang to it. ‘Please, sit.’
Vonnie returned his smile. ‘I think I’ll stand.’
Karl angled his head in acquiescence and walked to the window, looked over the bay.
<What is this?> Lennox asked Vonnie.
She pressed her lips together. <Nothing good.>
Britt was watching them, and Lennox knew that he had to make an effort not to look at Vonnie when he communicated with her.
Karl turned back to the room. ‘Do you miss them?’ His voice was light and airy. 20
Lennox’s stomach tightened. ‘Miss who?’
Karl pointed out of the window at the sea. ‘The Enceladons, of course.’
Lennox swallowed and didn’t look at Vonnie. <Fuck.>
‘Who?’ he said.
Karl looked from Lennox to Vonnie and back again. ‘I’m very jealous. To have had such an experience must have been mind-blowing.’
Vonnie rubbed at her wrist. ‘I think you’ve got the wrong people.’
Britt woke her iPad up and read from it. ‘Vonnie Macallan, aged nineteen, grew up in Ardmair. Lennox Hunt, eighteen years old, grew up in a children’s home in Edinburgh. Both passed first year of marine science with distinction. Met each other at the New Broom military and research facility at Rhue Point eighteen months ago. Were involved in the Enceladon assault on New Broom which ended with twelve dead and sixteen injured.’
Karl sat on Rebecca’s desk, trying to be casual.
‘I have friends very high up in the US administration,’ he said. ‘One of my companies was involved in the clean-up at New Broom. That was quite a job. I was given access to all the files. Everything. I know all about the Enceladons, about you.’
Lennox shook his head. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ <What the fuck do we do?>
<How the hell should I know?>
Karl smiled. ‘I know about Sandy, the Enceladon you both connected with telepathically. I know about the others who connected, Ava Gallacher and Heather Banks. I know about Fellowes and Carson and all the madness.’
Vonnie looked at the door. ‘I really think there’s been a mix-up.’
Karl put his hands out. ‘It’s a disgrace, the way you were treated. The way the Enceladons were treated. I don’t blame you or them for what happened. If I’d been in your shoes, I would have done exactly the same.’ He pushed himself away from the desk and went to the 21map, tapped at Loch Broom. ‘And if I’d been in charge, things would’ve gone very differently.’
Lennox looked around. ‘Is this a joke? I keep waiting for the cameras to be revealed. We don’t know anything about this, we’re just students here.’
Karl nodded then glanced at Britt. ‘You want to protect them, I understand. Especially given your experience. Humans are terrible creatures, we all know that. The worst instincts of humanity were on show at New Broom, and I’m disgusted to be from the same species that perpetrated that. To treat our first extraterrestrial visitors like vermin makes me feel sick.’ He sucked his teeth and sighed. ‘But we have a second chance.’
Lennox looked at Britt, watching impassively.
‘I’ve spent the last eighteen months looking for them,’ Karl said. ‘With the intention of communicating, helping if I can. I’ve dreamed of first contact all my life, since I was a little kid in Tromsø. A few months ago we detected some signs off the east coast of Greenland, just below the Arctic Circle. But the sea ice was too thick to get close. So we concentrated on building our research facility while we waited for the melt. Now we have a state-of-the-art research centre on the coast, and are sending out drones and boats. We think we know roughly where they are, but they will be understandably cautious, given last time.’ He glanced at Britt, then at Lennox and Vonnie. ‘Which is where you come in.’
Lennox shook his head.
<We need to get out of here,> Vonnie sent to him.
‘Being connected like that must be profound,’ Karl said. ‘It must change the way you think. I’ve read all the notes a hundred times, the Enceladons are extraordinary, intertwined in a way I can’t begin to imagine.’ He nodded at Lennox. ‘But you can. You miss them, I know you do. Wouldn’t you both like to see Sandy again?’
‘This is nonsense,’ Vonnie said.
‘I can make it happen,’ Karl said. 22
Britt showed them her iPad screen. A map of east Greenland, then a spread of buildings in a snowy landscape, mountains in the background, frozen sea nearby.
