Chapter 11: Rapture of the Deep

The next morning Lena awoke feeling refreshed and eager to continue her work, rousing her sleepy partner with a few sharp prods and encouraging him out of their sleeping pit. Once she had made a cup of MRE coffee and had eaten a breakfast of cereal bars, she was ready to face the day.

The more she learned about the Brokers and their odd behavior, the more intrigued she became. She had deciphered the Krell language, along with the history that was recorded in their murals, and she had even been able to interview someone who had actually lived through the war. Having uncovered the jealously guarded secret of the relationship between the two species, now one unanswered question stood out to her.

Why had the Brokers stopped their war in its tracks?

She was out of leads, and besides randomly scouring the swamps for more scholars, only one option remained. There was something at the bottom of the lake outside the village, some kind of structure that resembled the Broker installations that Rahee had described during his war story. Lena had seen it on her sonar when she had surveyed the waters. Was there some way to reach it? Could it hold further secrets that the Brokers had assumed to be out of her grasp? Arrogance seemed to be their greatest weakness, they had repeatedly underestimated her scientific and deductive abilities up to this point.

There was a rebreather in her duffel bag, another military issue device that she had scavenged from the surplus supplies before leaving the Pinwheel. It was a tool that was usually used to protect support personnel from the toxic gases often employed as weapons by the Bugs, the Marines being equipped with helmets that could accomplish the same task.

She rummaged in her bag and retrieved the device. It resembled the mask that a handyman might wear to protect from dust, or maybe the masks that the citizens of overcrowded cities tended to wear, but it was made primarily from hard plastic and it could seal over the wearer’s nose and mouth. There were two small cylinders that extended up past the cheeks, one containing a battery that powered the device, and another that contained a limited chemical oxygen generator to compensate for any leakage. It could recycle oxygen from her exhaled CO2 if it detected that there was none present in the atmosphere, but only for a limited time. It was designed for cases like fires and decompressions, where the oxygen content in the atmosphere might drop before the user was aware of the danger. It should also allow her to breathe underwater for a certain amount of time.

She was no diver however, and oxygen was the least of her concerns. While the lake was fairly warm at the surface, it would get progressively colder the deeper it got, and if the temperature dropped low enough then it could very quickly result in hypothermia. She had no diving suit, and the only reason she had a rebreather was to navigate environments that might potentially harbor dangerous gasses or plant spores. There was also the issue of pressure, and while the mysterious underwater structure had not appeared to be too far below the surface, it could still cause problems. Scuba divers breathed a special mixture of gases, usually oxygen, helium and nitrogen. She new that the ‘bends’, otherwise known as decompression sickness, was common at greater depths if the proper equipment and procedures were not observed.

She wouldn’t know her limits unless she tried, so perhaps a test dive was in order.

“Hey Sleethe, feel like taking a bath?”

Lena dipped her toes in the lake, the warmth of the morning suns beating down on her skin. She was starting to get a tan at this point, her porcelain complexion bronzing almost imperceptibly. There was a splash as Sleethe slid into the water on his belly, submerging himself and floating away from the shore. He rolled over, exposing his pale underside to the suns, seeking to warm his cold blood no doubt.

Lena had brought a few things down to the lake in her backpack, the soaps and shampoos that she had made part of her morning routine, and the rebreather with the intent to test it out. She slipped off her shorts after ensuring that they were alone, then waded into the lake to join Sleethe, pouring body wash into her hand from a plastic bottle as she went. One nice thing about this planet was that she could leave her belongings lying around without fear of them disappearing. The Krell were not overly curious, and so far none of them had interfered with her equipment. She stuck the bottle into the mud on the shore, and then proceeded to waist-height, lathering herself with the soap as she went.

The water was cooler than the humid air, and it was a great feeling to be able to clean all of the dirt and sweat from her skin, if only for a short while. She washed her hair as Sleethe circled her, swimming slowly with lazy, powerful strokes of his tail. When she was done bathing, she returned the bottles to her bag and retrieved the rebreather, securing it over her face with a strap and turning it on. Immediately the padded cushion around her mouth and nose sealed up, creating an airtight lock, and the stench of rotting vegetation that had been the norm since she had arrived was suddenly blocked out. She had almost grown used to the smell over time, and its absence was very noticeable.

Lena returned to the lake, this time submerging her head beneath the water. She was hesitant to open her eyes, worried that some native bacteria would make them their home, but she was equipped with ample medical supplies and so there should be no such issues. She blinked beneath the surface, her vision adjusting to the water, and eventually the scene came into view. Besides the silt and mud that she was kicking up, it was much clearer than it had initially appeared. She couldn’t see very far, but far enough.

Fighting against her every instinct, she took a breath, finding that the rebreather was doing its job. In the absence of oxygen that could be siphoned from the air, it would recycle her own breath, the CO2 scrubbers extracting as much oxygen from her exhalations as they could before feeding it back to her. The waste elements would be stored in a compartment for later disposal. It was a stopgap measure, intended only for emergencies, but it should buy her at least a few minutes in which she could be safely submerged. That was another thing that she wanted to test, how long she could last before she started to suffocate, and she rose briefly to the surface to use her wrist computer. She opened up the stopwatch function, giving the rebreather a moment to return to its normal filtering mode, and then activated the clock before diving down again.

She glanced at the orange glow of the timer on her forearm, watching the seconds tick past, and then began to swim deeper. There were all manner of shells lining the silt on the bottom of the lake, this must be where the females came to gather them when they made their necklaces. Lena had left her jewelry in her pack for fear of losing it during the dive. She let herself sink a little, walking along the bottom and examining it through the clouds of mud that her footsteps kicked up. She was quite buoyant, and so she had to make an effort to prevent herself from rising towards the surface.

There were a few small fish swimming back and forth, tiny, silvery creatures that darted out of her path as she swam by them. Before long a dark shadow loomed over her, and she looked up to see Sleethe coming to investigate. He seemed fascinated by her previously undisclosed ability to stay underwater for any length of time, and she tapped her mask with her finger as he examined her, her mane of blonde hair floating about her head like a straw-colored cloud.

He seemed to understand, and he spun on his axis, dancing gracefully in the water as she laughed at him. He was pleased with himself, apparently able to recognize her smile through her eyes, even with her face mostly covered. He was so fast and agile underwater, it was a stark contrast to how cumbersome he sometimes seemed on land.

Lena proceeded deeper, Sleethe hovering nearby as she swam, the water growing darker and cooler. It was a welcome reprieve from the heat of the surface, but she knew that prolonged exposure to cold temperatures would quickly become dangerous without protective gear. Still, it wasn’t as cold as she had anticipated. She should be able to go deeper than this without any immediate problems.

The bottom of the lake continued to slope downwards, the bare silt now giving way to plant life, forests of weeds and submerged grasses floating idly in the currents. There was more animal life here, shoals of larger fish weaving between the greenery, and Lena was reminded of the large blips that her sonar had picked up. Hopefully she wouldn’t encounter anything large and predatory...

Sleethe swam by her like a green torpedo, playfully scaring away the fish and sending the shoals scattering in all directions. This was his domain, and Lena was only a guest here. It was a fascinating look at a part of his life that, until now, she had never been able to experience first hand.

She waded into the forest of water weeds, their long, sinewy stalks rising ten or more feet above her. There were floating sacks attached to them to keep them upright, like kelp or seaweed, their fleshy leaves reaching for the surface in order to catch as much sunlight as they could.

Lena remembered being terrified of seaweed as a child. Her parents had taken her to a beach in Rügen when she had been very young, an island off the coast of Germany that was located in the Baltic sea. Initially entranced by the rolling waves and the frothing surf, little Lena had quickly been sent packing by the slimy, ghastly seaweed that the ocean deposited on the sands. Her father had carried the tearful girl back down to the water’s edge, showing her that the weeds were not alive and could not harm her, but despite his reassurances she had retained a fear of the stuff.

Now she was more than twenty feet beneath the surface of an alien lake, watching as the plants waved back and forth as if under the power of a slow and gentle breeze. She was becoming adept at suppressing her squeamishness, no longer would she be afraid of slimy weeds and mysterious creatures.

She felt more shells with her toes, the mud here cool and pleasant on her skin. She had half a mind to bring it back to the shore in handfuls and lather herself with it, wasn’t it supposed to be good for the skin? There were little crustaceans too, the original owners of the shells, like hermit crabs as they scuttled out of her way carrying their spiraling conchs on their backs.

There was a strong current as Sleethe shot past her, flying above her head and blowing through the weeds like a gust of wind. He was chasing the fish, making the large shoals split up into a spreading cloud before they reformed again in a silvery mass. At this depth there was still a fair amount of light, but the ground sloped continually downwards, the water beyond her field of view murky and dark.

She checked her wrist display, three minutes on the clock so far, and she felt fine. No shortness of breath or lightheadedness. The cold was starting to get more noticeable, but it was still tolerable, no worse than getting out of bed on a brisk morning.

Sleethe was having a riot, apparently full of energy after basking under the suns, darting in and out of the kelp forest playfully as she watched him. He vanished between the stalks, and then a moment later he was back, now with something long and angry clutched in his arms. Lena fought the instinct to swim away as he ‘landed’ in front of her, kicking up a cloud of silt as he settled. Held in his muscular arms was a large fish, almost as long as Lena was tall, struggling ardently as he wrestled with it. He had brought it to show her, and she quickly raised her wrist computer, turning on the camera function and taking some video. This time she was sure to keep the camera facing away from her. The last thing she needed was her naked, painted body showing up in slideshows at universities across UNN space.

It looked a little like a big catfish, its streamlined body coated in smooth scales. It was tinted grey, with camouflaged patterning on its fins and back, no doubt to protect it from predators who might be attacking from above. Rather than the large dorsal fin that was common on so many Earth fish, its back was almost smooth save for a fluke near the powerful tail. There was a cluster of long whiskers protruding from its face, no doubt sensory apparatus that perhaps detected prey or predators. It had two beady eyes, black and glassy like those of a shark.

Lena looked to Sleethe, the intuitive alien apparently guessing what she wanted from her eyes alone, and he drew a little closer to her. She reached out a hand and ran it along the smooth side of the fish, feeling its muscles twist and writhe beneath the surface. She laughed into her mask, smiling up at Sleethe as she stroked the animal. It was magnificent, a prize catch for any fisherman. It must have weighed at least eighty kilograms.

Sleethe turned away from her and ejected the creature, the alien fish powering its flared tail and shooting off into the safety of the weeds. Lena gave him two thumbs up, and he rose from the lakebed, putting on a show of spins and loops for her before swimming out of sight.

Five minutes on the clock, Lena noted, glancing at the orange hologram on her wrist. Good job all of this UNN gear was waterproof, she didn’t want to imagine what it must cost for a civilian to get their hands on tech like this.

A sound reached her ears suddenly, startling her at first, but then the harmonic tones entranced her. What was that? It sounded like whale song, if whales could actually write a decent ditty. Was it some lake monster? As if to answer her question, Sleethe emerged from the kelp, his attention focused away from Lena as he listened intently. He opened his jaws and gave a reply, and then Lena realized that the beautiful song was coming from the Krell.

It sounded like poetry being recited to the tune of a song, but in a language that she didn’t speak. She rapidly hit the record function on her computer, hoping that the microphone would be able to pick some of this up through the water. Whatever language they were speaking, it wasn’t Krell as she knew it, the translator didn’t even recognize it.

Lena had known that they communicated differently underwater, but what tests she had been able to conduct had not yielded any results like this. When she had submerged herself in the Pinwheel’s Olympic swimming pool and had instructed Sleethe to speak, all that he had done was loose some rumbling calls that were devoid of this artistry. Sound carried very far underwater, and it was the reason that the Krell had such powerful voices and were capable of such a large range of vocalizations. The mating call affected her so because it was designed to carry for miles beneath the water, the vibrations at such close ranges able to literally shake her in her boots. This was something else however, something new.

As she watched, another Krell appeared from the direction of the shore. This one was male, his scales a little lighter than those of her partner, indicating that he must be younger. He might be investigating the unusual activity, perhaps assuming that some kind of fishing expedition was ongoing. He had no necklace, and he wasn’t mated judging by the absence of a red mark on his forehead. Beyond that she couldn’t read the runes that were inscribed on his pale underbelly.

He seemed very interested in Lena, which was unusual for the Krell, they had largely ignored her unless there was some kind of ceremony going on. Maybe he had assumed that she was some kind of new fish, and was surprised by her presence here. After giving her a thorough look over he turned to Sleeth, who was now floating nearby like a giant, scaly blimp. The two exchanged another series of musical calls. The best way that Lena could describe it was like two dolphins singing a cappella, alternating between high pitched whistles and resonating roars that made her feel as if the very water around her was trembling.

Did they have an entirely alternate language for use underwater, or was this something else?

After a brief exchange, the young male proceeded into the forest of weeds. As soon as his tail had vanished between the floating stalks, Lena noticed that a red light was beeping on her mask. The CO2 scrubber must have run its course, and it could no longer recycle enough oxygen to keep her healthy. She began to swim up towards the surface immediately, glancing at her wrist display and noting that nine minutes had passed on the holographic stopwatch. So she would have nine minutes before her oxygen supply became critical, would that be enough to investigate the sunken Broker facility?

The corners of her vision began to darken, and she was beginning to feel a little dizzy. Worse, using her muscles to swim expended more oxygen, compounding her problem as she struggled to reach safety. Had she made a deadly mistake? Her thoughts slowed, and she began to become confused, no longer sure of where she was or what she was trying to do.

Suddenly she felt something lift her, and in a moment she was propelled from the lake with a monumental splash. She pulled the mask from her face, taking in a desperate gulp of air, her mind and her vision clearing almost the second that she filled her lungs. She was floating in the water, Sleethe carrying her in his scaly arms and letting her float gently on the surface of the lake, nudging her with his snout. She patted his nose apologetically.

“Thanks big guy, let’s call that eight minutes...”

Sleethe returned her to the shore and deposited her gently on the mud. Despite her protests that she was perfectly capable of swimming back under her own power, the big lug had carried her all the way. She hadn’t realized how cold she had gotten until she felt the warm mud between her fingers, the twin suns beating down on her face as Sleethe flopped down beside her. He rolled in the mud like a giant dog, before lying with his belly exposed, basking to warm himself. Now that it was later in the morning, many of their Krell neighbors were also warming themselves on the shore, or else floating on the water. As cold-blooded reptiles, it was the only way for them to control their body temperature.

Lena returned the rebreather to her pack, confident now that she could survive for about eight minutes beneath the surface of the lake. She fiddled with her computer, bringing up the three dimensional sonar image that her probe had taken a couple of days prior. It showed a wire frame map of the lakebed, along with a few large blips that might be large fish or perhaps submerged Krell. Judging by how big the scholar had been, it was certainly possible that one might show up on her scan.

She zoomed in on the Broker structure, discernible from the surrounding terrain by its harsh angles and smooth lines, obviously artificial in origin. It was at about seventy feet below the surface, perched on a sort of rocky crag, the actual depth of the lake far exceeding that at its lowest point.

If Sleethe swam her down, then she would have eight minutes per visit to explore. Actually it might take a minute to get there and back, better make that six minutes.

Her calculations were disturbed as Sleethe nudged her with his snout, almost toppling her over in the process. She put out her hand to catch herself, and it sank deep into the muck all the way up to her wrist. As she turned her head to scold him, she felt his warm, wet tongue rake across her cheek. Giggling, she pushed him away, wiping off his sticky saliva with her clean hand as she made a futile attempt to clean off the other on her shorts.

“I’m fine, you goon. Stop fretting. I’m trying to do work here, go bask for a while.”

He gave her another lick, his smooth tongue glancing across her neck, a wave of distinctly erotic tingling making her shiver as it rolled down her spine. She wanted to ward him off and focus on her calculations, but he was insatiable sometimes, her ticklish nature making it hard to convey her disapproval. Her heart skipped in her chest as she noticed the tip of his azure blue erection peeking out from beneath its genital slit, leaking a strand of clear fluid in anticipation. It was true that they hadn’t fooled around in a while now, but he had picked a hell of a time to remind her of that fact.

She turned her head this way and that, looking about the muddy shore to see how many other Krell were nearby. There were three in view, one of them floating in the water a few hundred meters offshore, and two others who were basking nearby on the bank. Lena was suddenly very aware of her nakedness, the sexual urges that were rising up inside her giving it new context.

Sleethe’s long, flexible tongue glanced her nipple and slid down her belly, pausing at the waistband of her shorts as she loosed a stifled moan and arched her spine.

“Sleethe,” she grumbled, “we can’t do this here. People will see us!”

The natives might have no concept of modesty or privacy, but she certainly did. Lena might have foregone her clothing for convenience, but the idea of making love out in public like this was imbuing her with an odd blend of apprehension and excitement. Her mouth was dry, she could hear her heart pounding in her ears. What was happening to her?

She laughed giddily as he crawled closer, lapping at her neck and chest, his warm organ teasing her in all of the places that he knew were vulnerable. The giant reptile loomed over her, planting his massive hands to either side of her, and she fell backwards into the mud.

“I just got clean,” she complained, “we should do this later...” She was interrupted as he curled his tongue around her breast, engulfing it in what felt like wet velvet, squeezing her gently as her eyelashes fluttered. “Let’s go back up the temple, then we can ... we can...”

Her voice trailed off as she felt the warmth of his member pressing against her thigh, fully erect now, as long and as thick are her forearm. It was leaking fluids on her skin as it brushed against her crotch, Lena sensing its firmness through the thin fabric as it pressed against her lips through her shorts. Its length was still coated in the hand prints and smears of dye that she had left there after their last session in the temple, reds and yellows standing out against his blue flesh.

Her chest began to rise and fall more rapidly at the salacious sight, a sudden warmth overtaking her as his monstrous organ leaked on her belly. She shifted her weight, feeling the slimy mud beneath her hands. Thoughts swarmed in her head, some demanding that she push him away and insist that they not do this on the shore. Still others teased the possibility of throwing shame to the wind, of indulging in these lurid urges, fucking right here in the mud in full view of everyone.

She glanced to her right, swallowing hard as she noticed that their immediate neighbor was watching them, one yellow eye open as she lay on her back. It was a female, judging by the curve of her hips, a little older than Sleethe. She wasn’t leering at them, she was just observing with mild interest as she basked in the sunlight.

Lena was brought back into the moment as her partner’s mammoth erection pressed against her belly, almost as if he was trying to show her how deep it would go if he were to tear off her shorts and go for broke. She could feel it pulse as it lay there, the throb of hot blood making it bounce against her stomach. A drop of his saliva fell from his lipless jaws, splashing on her forehead and dribbling down her face, practically boiling on her red cheek as she bit her lip and turned her eyes up towards him.

His blue tongue snaked down towards her as if it had a mind of its own, parting her lips and pressing against her closed teeth. He seemed confused by her reluctance, smelling the excitement radiating from her, seeing the hardness of her nipples and feeling the spreading damp between her thighs. Her body was ready and willing, aching for him, but Lena was still clinging to her alien morality. The little devil whispering in her ear assured her that nobody would ever find out, that this kind of thing was normal and socially acceptable on Krell. In fact, it would be borderline anthropocentric to refuse him...

Lena caved, opening her mouth and welcoming his probing tongue as it bulged her cheeks. Her brain fizzed and popped in her skull. Sleethe’s wanton and unrestrained kisses always made her feel like she was melting. Her knees grew weak and her blood rushed in her ears, overpowered only by the lurid smacking of their embrace as she did her utmost to match his aggressive pace. Her tiny, pink organ was easily overcome, his slippery tongue gliding against her inner cheeks and lapping at the roof of her mouth, his bubbling saliva dripping from her chin and falling to her naked chest in fat ropes.

She dug her fingers into the soft mud as jolts of pleasure coursed through her nervous system like errant embers from a bonfire, packing the soil into her fists as Sleethe pinned her against the ground. He was being so dominant today, brutish, taking her on the beach like she was the only thing that mattered. To be wanted in that way, to be so desired that he couldn’t help himself ... it made her feel so ... sexy.

His open jaws were to either side of her face now, his sharp teeth a hair’s breadth from her cheeks, but she knew that he would never hurt her. He was really going deep, his slimy organ pushing into her throat, Lena’s eyes watering as her muscles spasmed around it. Despite the discomfort, she loved it when he kissed her like this. So deep, filling her head, a sex act in its own right. She closed her lips around the base and sucked affectionately, licking his length and tasting his metallic drool on her tongue.

Lena writhed beneath him, covering her body in mud and slime, her hands sinking into the wet soil and her heels sliding as they tried to find purchase. The cold of the lake was already a distant memory, now her body was burning up, sweat dripping her her pores to mingle with her lover’s fluids. She had felt so clean after her bath, so refreshed, and now she was being sullied on the ground. There was something exciting about that, the idea making some long repressed desire surface in the back of her mind. She wanted to be covered in mud and sweat, drool and come, filthy in a very literal sense.

Sleethe pulled out of her mouth and let her take a gasping breath, his tongue joined to her lips by sagging strands of saliva, Lena blinking away tears as he turned his attention to her shorts. The female was still watching them idly, her interest mounting it seemed. She was looking right at Lena as she lay beneath her alien lover, her pale skin covered in hand prints and mud, strings of drool that were not her own hanging from her pink lips. What did she think of Lena’s display? Was she jealous, disapproving? Did she drink in Sleethe’s muscular physique and his surging erection, wishing that it was her and not Lena who was pinned beneath him?

Lena yelped as her lover tore her shorts off in one smooth motion, exposing her, a sticky web of her juices linking her swollen sex to the fabric. His azure tongue slapped wetly between her breasts, sliding slowly down towards her loins, Lena twitching and trembling as he tormented her. In an instant his leathery hands were parting her thighs, his dull claws sinking into her yielding flesh, and his hot breath was washing over her.

She moaned as he began to lick her, the sound drawing the interest of their observer, the female blinking her nictating membrane at Lena as the human writhed in the mud. Lena didn’t care about being loud anymore, she wanted them to hear. It was liberating in a way.

He was so good at giving head that it sometimes made her feel like she was going to pass out from the pleasure, as if her brain might shut itself down to protect her from becoming overstimulated. This time was no exception, Sleethe delighting in exploring every inch of her vulva with his dexterous tongue, dragging his damp flesh across every fold and wrinkle as if her taste was the most wonderful thing in the world to him. He gave her is all every time, never holding anything back, having no reservations and not a hint of shame as he ate her out.

She lurched as he pushed into her opening, her juices mingling with his saliva as he slid deep into her reaches, his tongue alone thick enough to fill her. He could reach so far inside her, his organ roiling and undulating to sear her nerves with unbearable stimulation. Her walls clenched around him, squeezing and wringing as the contractions made her hips shake, but he remained undeterred. He licked her from within, his deft glances drawing shapes in her passage. He was teasing and gentle when he wanted to be, and then his pace would reach a cruel and wracking intensity, his blue flesh digging into her most sensitive spots as she bucked and shivered.

Sleethe withdrew, only priming her for what was to come it seemed, Lena squirming as his tongue slowly slid back out of her to lap dotingly at her thighs and belly. His large hands gripped her hips, his dull claws digging into her painted flesh, and with all the effort of playing with a toy he flipped her onto her belly.