Work Text:
Fact: The Republic of the Maldives
has an average ground level elevation
of 1.5 meters above sea level,
and a natural highest point
of 2.4 meters, making it
the lowest country on Earth.
Fact: Global sea level is rising
at a rate of 3.5 millimeters per year,
and the rate is increasing,
with conservative estimates
between 0.8 and 2 meters by 2100
and more catastrophic estimates
of 7 meters or more.
Fact: President Mamadou Latheef
is responsible for keeping his country
alive, healthy, prosperous,
and preferably above water.
President Latheef sighs
and tries to rub away the small line
entrenching itself between his eyebrows.
His responsibilities slip through his fingers
as if he is trying to grasp dry sand.
He can see the problem quite clearly,
and an assortment of possible solutions,
but even his excellent skill at diplomacy
is limited by the resources at hand.
He does not have the money or the leverage
to pressure large countries like China
and Russia and the United States
into cutting out those activities
that cause climate change.
What he does have
is political control of a country
which happens to be
an utterly beautiful place to live.
Perhaps, he thinks,
I can use these resources
to entice the aid of more powerful allies.
Muriel Green is reading on the beach
when she comes across the ad:
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WANTED: People with superpowers
to assist the Maldives in withstanding
the ravages of climate change. Elementals
with Water or Earth especially solicited.
Offer includes citizenship, government seat,
picturesque lodging, and generous pay.
Must be willing to immigrate.
Visit our website for details.
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In the several years since the accident
that left her with superpowers,
she has taken on the role of Aquariana
and worked to protect the waters of the world.
But. People stare at her all the time,
because she is bald and has webbed hands.
She goes nude as often as possible since her skin --
which is beginning to turn a fine shade of aquamarine --
no longer tolerates the dry rasp of clothing very well.
Her enemies have figured out that her power
grows in proximity to any large body of water and
diminishes the farther she goes onto dry land.
Aquariana is tired of getting kidnapped
and dragged into the plains or mountains
or, worst of all, the heart of some desert.
She looks at the map.
The Republic of the Maldives
lies amidst the Indian Ocean.
About 99% of its territory is ocean,
with the other 1% consisting of
a necklace of coral islands.
She looks at the rest of the website.
This little island country has
come to her attention before,
given its vulnerability to rising water
and its interest in green energy, but
the cultural conditions are a concern.
Evidently the recent upheavals
have enabled some political changes:
the new constitution is more democratic,
and the requirement of Muslim faith
has been starred with a footnote
that superpowered immigrants
of other religions are only asked
to respect local traditions, not convert.
Muriel's webbed fingers stroke her tablet,
whose adaptive programming allows her
to navigate more easily through the album
of images that show sparkling turquoise water,
white sand dotted with cowrie shells, and
palm trees swaying in the tropical breeze.
Here it is early spring,
a good time for new beginnings.
Muriel opens the application form,
activates her voice recognition software,
and begins to fill in the blanks.
I think, she muses,
that I could learn to love that place.
The Republic wants her,
Muriel realizes, when she receives
a complimentary plane ticket
and a hotel room in Malé.
She doesn't give herself time
for second thoughts; she just
packs a suitcase and goes.
The air is warm and wet
and full of salt from the ocean
that she can feel surging all around.
The sheer immensity of the water
is intoxicating to her.
Muriel meets with President Latheef
to discuss what they might do for each other.
He is bemused by her nudity,
even warned about it in advance,
but he bows to the necessity.
Perhaps it helps that she has
a trim, muscular build with minimal curves
and doesn't look as mammalian as she used to.
The role in government
turns out to be a cabinet seat.
"I can appoint whatever people I need,"
he explains, "subject to approval
from the People's Majlis.
I want to establish a new cabinet
for our super-immigrants, who will
all come with their own unique qualifications."
Muriel admits that she doesn't know
much about politics, but is willing to learn
if it helps protect the ocean.
She has a hard time not looking
out the window at it every five minutes.
President Latheef offers her a house
and a whole island to put it on.
She doesn't want either.
They talk about that,
and agree on a houseboat.
The salary is half again what she made
as a professional swimmer,
and twice what she's making now
as a superpowered environmentalist.
"About the matter of Islam ..."
the President says delicately.
Muriel sighs.
She can't deny
that it's an issue for her.
"You probably know that Haboob
is a nemesis of mine," she says.
"He doesn't exactly make a good impression.
Last month he dumped me in the Arabian Desert.
I almost died before I dragged myself to an oasis.
Outside the office window,
she can just see the waves glinting
between the tall buildings of Male.
"Haboob is a disgrace of a Muslim,"
President Latheef says in an aggrieved tone.
"So many people think that we are all terrorists,
and fools like him only encourage them.
We hope you will give us a chance
to improve the impression."
"I'm not sure I can, but I'd like to try,"
Muriel says honestly. Something
about him makes her want to try.
"This entire development has been
pretty traumatic for me, and Haboob
has made everything a whole lot worse.
I don't want to be stuck in that mindset forever,
though, and I'm sick of getting kidnapped."
"It would be difficult for your adversaries
to reach you here, let alone extract you,"
the President points out. "Perhaps
additional security could be arranged,
given the pattern of past hazards."
"Maybe we could test it for a few months?"
Muriel suggests. "That would let us
get to know each other, and find out
how my power fits with this place."
President Latheef smiles then.
"We can test it right now, if you like," he says.
"I've seen you looking out my window,
and I'd like to see what you can do."
Muriel can think of nothing
but the water, calling and calling her,
even as the President leads her to the beach
kicks off his shoes, and rolls up his pants.
He walks beside her as she admires
the flawless white sand and the little bay
spreading out like riffled blue silk.
"Go on," he says.
"I know you want to."
It is Aquariana
who runs the last few steps
and dives into the warm, welcoming sea.
President Latheef stands on the beach
with a bodyguard holding his shoes,
wriggling his toes against the sand
as he watches the foreign woman
frolic like a dolphin in the bay.
She is nude, which is indecent,
but she is nearly the color of a dolphin
and hardly looks human anyhow.
It is still beautiful to watch.
Aquariana swims for hours
until the sun begins to set.
From time to time there are signs
of her power at work -- schools of fish
moving into and out of the bay,
waves rising and falling.
The President knows that she is one of
the strongest Water talents in the world;
he can well imagine what good she would be
for keeping his country in fresh water,
helping the coral reefs survive, and
buffering the effects of storms and tsunamis.
When she emerges from the ocean at last,
drops of water dripping from her like diamonds,
President Latheef takes one look at her face
and just knows that she will stay here,
however much she and his people may need
to stretch in order to accommodate each other.
In the world to come,
his country will have to sink or swim
on its own merits and on the strength
of the alliances it can make.
Looking at Aquariana,
he feels an upwelling of hope.
