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They said the sea creature was Rhys’ most prized possession, even greater than the corporation that allowed him to influence the entire universe. They said Rhys captured him in the dead of night, the merman adding another scar to his collection as he fought to get free. They said Rhys still had the friction burn from where he wrapped his arm around the line to disengage his prosthetic, sacrificing it to prevent being dragged under and killed in the creature’s rage.
They also said a lot about the aquarium that supposedly kept this possession of his contained. That Rhys built it to show him off, that it spanned the entire 250 floors of Atlas HQ— that it didn’t keep the creature contained at all. No one questioned why this merman mattered so much to Rhys. It was a creature of myth. As breathtaking as he was dangerous. Those unlucky enough to lay eyes on him walked away grateful for the rocket-proof glass and distance between them.
They said the Atlas CEO got whatever he wanted. Risks be damned. Then did whatever necessary to keep it.
Rhys didn’t mean to capture him. The assumption was they had a security leak, and the quickest way to eliminate the problem was to do that literally. A clever bit of reprogramming and a sensor trip funneled water from that section of the deep-sea research facility into the nearby ballasts. This also submerged the structure and activated additional force fields, essentially locking the place down.
When they got around to emptying the tanks one by one into a nearby lab with direct access to the sea, Rhys had expected to find a corpse or the half-drowned jerk who’d been messing with his operations here. Not… something else entirely.
Later, when Rhys would look back on the moment, he would wish he could say the first thing he noticed was the scales or how his gills were silvered lines on the sides of his neck that sealed closed out of water. But it wasn’t. The first thing Rhys noticed was his eyes.
They were mismatched like Rhys’ own, except blue and green instead of brown and gold. And the way he looked at Rhys… his eyes were a storm; they looked like they contained the power of the sea. They probably did. It was only then that Rhys noticed his very human torso transitioned into a tail, which wasn’t just big. It was huge. Rhys’ ECHOeye measured him at almost nine feet from the top of his head to the tip of his tail.
There were fins where one would expect ears and small ones attached to the backs of his arms. He was broad-shouldered and muscular, tan skin shifting into pitch-black scales. His tail and dorsal fins appeared webbed with numerous spines stretching beyond that looked like they could kill with a single scratch. The deadliness in him was palpable.
Rhys was confident the creature would tear out his throat while staring into his eyes. That he wanted to. He didn’t even check to see if he could escape once deposited back into the sea. However, once the room was emptied of everyone but the two of them, the merman’s spines lowered somewhat.
“I guess it’s too much to hope you speak Basic,” Rhys said.
His ‘ears’ twitched, and his eyes narrowed.
Rhys smirked and glanced down at his boots. It had been a stretch, but the merman used facial expressions similar to those of humans. He also seemed to register that Rhys was in charge here. Going forward, Rhys just had to hope his instincts were right. But they usually were.
It was clear this place had sparked interest. Now, all Rhys had to do was hold onto it himself. Find a way into the creature’s mind so that he started to want more than what Rhys seemed willing to give.
It would be a hook. An opening.
A way to win.
Rhys set the precedent immediately. No return attempt to communicate was met with an abrupt dismissal as if the merman wasn’t worth the time or consideration. Based on the footage after Rhys had left the room, it was a precedent he clearly hated, proceeding to bitch in a language that sounded weirdly familiar yet totally alien. The reaction was no doubt fueled by the fact he was obviously not only intelligent but prideful.
Protocols were updated, and strict no-contact rules were implemented to lean into that. The lab the merman had been released into was shut down and clearance adjusted to secure the room and base. Rhys imagined an unrestricted access point without any unfortunate surprises would serve as an open invitation. Or, he could tamper with the facility again and enjoy a repeat experience of their initial encounter because Rhys wasn’t that forgiving.
He resigned himself to the inevitability of angering the merman no matter what happened. There was no way to inform him of any of this or that there could be a sizable delay in Rhys’ response. He could only attempt to apologize if and when the opportunity presented itself, which it did eight days later.
It was the second time the merman had visited the room to find it empty, but the first time Rhys was planetside to do anything about it. He dropped everything at HQ when the silent alarm went off to fly to the offshore base. It helped that the merman decided to investigate the holo-tablet Rhys had left near the water to hopefully buy him the time needed. What didn’t help was Rhys’ arrival startling him.
Instantly, sharp spines raised, and his scales seemed to darken. Rhys paused, lifting his hands to show they were empty, and only moved toward the stairs once the merman relaxed slightly. Though, Rhys stopped well out of reach from where he was half out of the water, propped up on his elbows. While Rhys was beyond interested, he wasn’t interested in dying over it. Differences in upper body strength aside, Rhys was pretty sure he still had the upper hand in the ‘running away and climbing stairs’ department if it came to it.
For a moment, they just stared at each other intently. The only sound in the room was the gentle lapping of water. Then Rhys placed a hand on his chest.
“Rhys,” he said, not bothering to talk slowly or loud or over-enunciate the word.
The merman studied Rhys with an expression he couldn’t place. It seemed as though he were reassessing the situation. Then he moved his chin slightly, perhaps in acknowledgment.
“Jack,” he replied, copying the gesture.
“Jack,” Rhys repeated, a half-smile finding its way onto his lips.
Technology prevented their attempts at communicating from being an absolute disaster.
Lingual analysis of the footage Rhys had didn’t come up with a match, but narrowing it down to a dialect of a long-dead language had been good enough. With additional audio, it would be possible to cross-reference it with Pronoia and encode translation protocols. For now, though, there existed some form of middle ground.
It was far from perfect, and when all else failed, Jack fell back on using some form of sign language. The first time Jack did it was out of frustration, and Rhys didn’t need to understand to know he had just been insulted.
“I’m trying,” Rhys told him in Pronoian.
Jack rolled his eyes. “Try better,” he said, then tapped the side of his head before pointing at Rhys’ earpiece. “Uneven. Not helping, genius.”
“Rude,” Rhys allowed, not even the slightest bit offended.
Jack grinned. It was the first time he had ever done so, and Rhys couldn’t keep from smiling back.
Their communication efforts were more uneven than Jack was aware of because Rhys also benefited from his cyberware. Translation protocols were being updated in real-time in his own head, but Jack had been right. Adding a second lingual source and direct input point would only expedite things.
It took the better part of two weeks to fine-tune the programming. Rhys brought the earpiece and new holo-tablet along when it was ready, only to stop in his tracks and stare when he got into the room. The idea of approaching Jack… This was the first time in a while Rhys was reminded that Jack was an apex predator.
Granted, Jack’s dorsal fin was folded down flat against his back. It was the most obvious indicator that he was at ease, unthreatened. Plus, Jack was not a monster. Not in the sense that people on base whispered among themselves. That he lacked emotion or empathy. Beautiful but had killed hundreds or thousands just because he wanted to and would do so again. Rhys frowned, realizing this was the same train of thought people used to categorize Rhys himself as a monster.
It was on that note that he sat down where he usually did, then reached for his boots. Rhys pulled off the first one and was removing his sock when Jack said his name. He looked up reflexively.
“What are you doing?”
“Uh, shoes,” Rhys answered in Basic, pointing, then continued in Pronoian. “Water will ruin.”
“What about your clothes?” Jack asked, shifting between the languages in reverse.
Rhys smiled to himself, knowing the question was innocent enough. Explaining clothes and why he always looked different had been an interesting conversation.
“They will dry,” Rhys told him.
Jack’s brow dipped down then he gestured out a couple of signs. Rhys hadn’t seen the last one before, but it was intuitive enough.
Can you swim?
“I’m going to sit close, but no. Not good. Only one arm,” Rhys told him.
Jack cocked an eyebrow and counted Rhys’ arms to show his confusion. Rhys just grinned and gestured for him to wait. It’d be easier to explain with the translator in place.
To his surprise, once Rhys was settled by the water’s edge, Jack pushed himself out of the ocean. Cold seawater sloshed up onto the floor, but Rhys was more alarmed by Jack being practically on top of him without warning than anything else.
The fins on his forearms each had a solitary spine, and his claws were as razor-sharp as his teeth. Still, Rhys couldn’t say with confidence that was why his heart rate had spiked. Jack was just… striking, and not only the human parts of him.
His scales weren’t just black. Shimmering yellow explosions were written into each one. It was subtle, only really perceptible when light played against the flexes and shifts of his movement. Jack sat at Rhys’ side with his tail partially in the water like this was perfectly normal. Jack hid it well if the position felt awkward or uncomfortable, but Rhys stopped worrying when a smirk found its way onto his lips.
It didn’t take long for Jack to grasp how the technology worked. He’d been using the other tablet long enough that the changes were probably intuitive. And as Rhys suspected, Jack’s ear canals were tucked behind the fins on either side of his head.
“Explain the arm thing,” Jack said once he appeared satisfied with it all.
“It’s called a prosthetic,” Rhys said, reaching for the disengagement latch. The shoulder couplings popped free, and the wire grouping was unplugged in seconds. “A replacement limb.”
Jack lifted the dead weight of his arm thoughtfully. “What happened to it?”
“Someone hurt me, and it couldn’t be saved.”
“Why?” he asked after a brief pause.
“People… a lot of people will do whatever they think is necessary to get ahead in the universe.”
Jack’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Rhys for several seconds. “Including you?”
Not for the first time, Rhys wondered why there was a perfect Vault symbol arced across his face. If it had been an accident, backlash from the key or the Vault itself like Rhys had experienced, or if someone had done it to him.
Rhys would be lying if he said the symbol wasn’t part of the initial draw, but he’d gotten his Vault. He’d paid his price. Luckily, Atlas had contributed to the advancements in tech and cybernetics before it happened, allowing them to fix his eye and stabilize the seizures with implants. So, he wasn’t interested in risking everything when he’d already gained so much.
“I built what I have from the ground up,” Rhys said. “I worked for it. Fought for it too, so I like to think that means I have limits. That I’d only do whatever is necessary when it comes to keeping what’s mine.”
After that day, sitting side by side became the standard. It took some getting used to because either merfolk’s concept of personal space was very different from humans, or Jack’s was. Rhys tried to not pay much attention to it. However, as the weeks progressed, it became increasingly apparent that there was motive behind it.
It felt more intimate in the way Jack would shift his body towards Rhys or partially encircle him with his tail as if to put a barrier between him and the water. Not to mention it was probably the most Rhys had ever talked with anyone.
They didn’t touch, though, and Rhys did not acknowledge how much he wanted to.
Not even to himself.
“I got you something,” Rhys told him.
Jack looked at him with a knowing glint in his eyes, and Rhys felt his cheeks warm. Of course, it had been too much to hope Jack wouldn’t notice Rhys cared more than he should. His friends had pointed out weeks ago that it was more than the academic curiosity he tried to shrug it off as, so it wasn’t really unexpected. Just… unfortunate.
Rhys lifted the wristband anyway. It was pure titanium, resistant to corrosion and rust, and waterproof up to 32,000 leagues. The power source should last at least a year before needing a charge. It wouldn’t do much underwater, but it didn’t necessarily need to.
“It’s a way to contact me,” Rhys explained. “Since neither one of us lives around here, I thought this would make things easier.”
“Where do you live?” Jack asked, eyeing Rhys carefully.
“In Meridian.”
“What does that mean?”
Rhys pulled up a picture of the city taken from the bay. It was prettier at night or under the shadows of Skywell, so that was what he chose. Looming up over the city was the central pillar of Atlas HQ, and beyond were its six subsequent towers. The smallest pairing still grossly overshadowed Meridian’s skyscrapers, a solid mass of concrete and colored lights rising above the city’s walls.
Jack tilted his head as he took in the photo. “This place is yours?”
“Yes.”
“All of it?”
As far as Rhys was concerned, this whole galactic sector was his, but all he did was smile and say, “All of it.”
Jack ran the metal of the wristband through his fingers. Then gestured. It was something Rhys knew he fell back on in his discomfort.
Show me.
Cautiously, Rhys took his hand and secured it to his wrist. Jack’s skin was surprisingly warm, and it felt almost human. It had a slight natural slick to it that made it unnaturally smooth. Rhys knew the scales were much rougher. Jack had shed a few out of the water; otherwise, he wouldn’t know.
He wouldn’t have one.
Rhys didn’t seem to be the only one curious. Whose touches were lingering.
He didn’t know what to make of it, however.
Something had changed between them, but before Rhys could figure it out, Jack disappeared.
He pretended not to miss the time they spent together or care that Jack had cut him off. Or worse, worry that something had happened to him. Rhys filled the days as he always did before they had crossed paths, but the quiet hours were an entirely different issue. Rhys thought of Jack, no matter how hard he tried not to.
After a month, a kind of sadness settled in Rhys’ chest, as though he had swallowed the sea and could feel the weight of it dragging him down.
Despite the days of silence, when Jack called, he answered. As soon as the connection was established, his head and shoulders appearing in the palm of Rhys’ hand, Jack grinned. If he wasn’t so relieved to hear from Jack, Rhys would tell him off, but it was clearly past that point.
“Hey, Jack,” Rhys said, letting the name linger on his tongue for the first time in too long. “It’s been a while.”
“Yeah, well, swimming isn’t nearly as fast as those ships of yours.”
Rhys blinked. “What does that mean?”
“Meridian. This… cee-tee of yours. I wanted to see it,” Jack said in Basic, looking inordinately pleased with himself. “I wouldn’t let anyone take this from me either.”
The memory of that conversation, of Jack’s hand brushing against his, reared its ugly head, and Rhys failed utterly at ignoring it.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Rhys asked. “I would have helped.”
Something heavy hung in the silence between them, and Rhys couldn’t help but notice how Jack’s shoulders had tensed.
“You would have helped?” Jack asked.
“Yes,” Rhys answered without a moment’s hesitation.
“And if I didn’t need it? Or want it?”
Rhys shook his head. “Then you could have at least told me what you were doing,” he said. “You just disappeared, and I— thought something might have happened.”
“Well, nothing did,” Jack said. “So, what does it matter?”
“You’re right. It doesn’t,” Rhys said, and then Jack was gone.
He was gone because Rhys suddenly found himself wishing he had not heard from Jack at all.
Almost immediately, Rhys regretted it, but it wasn’t until the stillest part of the night, that quiet period between midnight and dawn, that his pride allowed him to do anything about it.
I’m sorry, Rhys sent in Pronoian. Then in Basic, he added. I’m glad you wanted to see the city. I hope you liked it.
The words only skimmed the surface, no matter how true they were. They could only say so much if Jack wouldn’t accept them anyway. He knew Jack kept the wristband off unless he wanted to contact Rhys, and after today, he couldn’t say with certainty Jack would ever power it back on again.
Rhys rolled onto his side and went back to waiting hopelessly for sleep to come.
When Rhys was finally tired enough to sleep, flickers of guilt lingered and drifted deeper into his mind. And when he woke, it felt as cold and bitter as seawater.
It took a moment to realize what had roused him wasn’t his systems shifting off of ‘do not disturb’ for the day. That it was an alert. That it was Jack.
“Hello?”
“Rhys? Why isn’t this working right?”
“There’s no video because I don’t have my arm,” Rhys told him, his voice still raspy from sleep. “My wristband only has basic functions. But, hey, can we try this again?”
“Yeah,” Jack said simply. “I called, didn’t I?”
The best Rhys could do for Jack was where the ocean cut into Atlas’ campus. The water was pulled up two stories to feed a fountain in the large courtyard above, then cascading down the massive seven-foot steps and back into the sea. He and Jack sat side by side on the lowest point of the retaining wall, almost level with the sea and well away from the gentle waterfall. The sun was hidden behind the stones of Skywell, and the city in front of them shined brightly.
“It’s incredible.” Jack said this more to himself than to Rhys, but he answered anyway.
“It is.”
Jack had his eyes on the horizon, just as Rhys’ had been a second before. It was the first time Rhys had seen Jack outside of the research base, and the scene around them seemed to pale in comparison. Jack’s scales were dark and shimmering, almost luminous under the light. Jack looked like the being of myth that he was.
“Where were you when I called?”
“In there,” Rhys answered, pointing up at HQ. “I live at the top of that building.”
“Figures,” Jack said, sounding displeased.
Rhys hummed and gently moved his leg, feeling the water beneath his feet. “I could try to do something about that, but I got the impression you don’t want or need my help.”
“I should shove you in the water.” Jack shifted his tail, lightly jolting Rhys where he was leaning against it, and Rhys snorted.
“Please don’t. My prosthetic would weigh me down, and drowning does not sound like a good time.”
“I wouldn’t kill you. I’d just watch you flail around a little to make me feel better before dragging you out.”
“You are such an ass,” Rhys said, then had the unfortunate privilege of explaining what an ass was and why he could call Jack that.
Jack laughed. The sound of it was as large as Jack himself, and soon enough, Rhys was laughing too.
A meeting reminder blinked across his HUD for a third time, and for a third time, Rhys cleared it. It had been well over a month since Rhys had made time for Jack, and he wasn’t going to cut this short when he didn’t know when they would talk again.
“So, now that you’ve seen the city, what are you going to do next?” Rhys asked him.
Jack made a face. “The plan was to bother you here for a while, but that doesn’t seem like it’s going to work out.”
“I have a villa— or, er, another building. One a lot smaller for just me,” Rhys said. “It’s not too far from here, but it is on the water. Like, right on it. It’s for when I want to get away from all this.”
“You want to get away from this?”
“Not often. I like it here, and I had the place built when I had someone to want to get away with.”
Jack nudged him with his tail again. “Real subtle.”
Rhys blushed. “That’s not—“
“Yeah, it is. Don’t know why you’d try to lie about it. You just said you like it here, and how long have you been flying out to the middle of nowhere to see me? You even gave me a way to contact you.”
Rhys drew in a breath and wanted nothing more than to disappear into the building. He wasn’t sure how he had fallen so helplessly into Jack’s orbit, but there he was.
“Forget I said anything,” Rhys sighed.
“Not a chance,” Jack said, then there was a hand on Rhys’ arm. A hand with sharp claws that engulfed a significant portion of his forearm, and his heart began to race. It wasn’t that the action was intimidating or that Jack could overpower him without trying— in fact, he towered over Rhys in a way that just felt right.
But that was also the problem.
Jack knew it too because suddenly, he grinned, hooking his other hand underneath Rhys’ armpit and dragging him close. Jack’s mouth was on his, tongue pushing in slow and deep, a pleased rumble vibrating into Rhys’ mouth. His saliva tasted harsher than he’d expected and salty but still good.
His knees were splayed on either side of Jack’s tail. Rhys rested his hands on Jack’s shoulders, running one along his jaw and back into his hair. As his palm grazed Jack’s skin, he pressed his face against it for a moment.
He seemed so starved for touch.
Rhys didn’t think anything of it, though, because he felt starved for it too.
After that, going to the island was a given.
It was small, taking about half a day to walk across it, but the most Rhys ever did was land his ship and take the suspended walkway out to the house.
Anchored in place by a series of stilts and piers pinned deep in the earth, the structure provided a sense that one was floating above the sea. There were stone steps from the terrace descending directly into the water. Inside, it had one large open room with a separate bathroom, skylights, and oversized doors and windows that allowed the building to breathe. Rhys got rid of most of the furniture to make it easier for Jack. He didn’t care about getting water in the place; why would he.
They had so much privacy there that it was absurd. More than enough to indulge in the full weight of Jack’s desire. He kissed Rhys with an almost single-minded focus like it was his sole purpose, and even when their mouths didn’t quite line up, Rhys still walked away unharmed. His teeth and claws seemed to never touch Rhys unless Jack wanted them to, and even then, he was achingly intentional about it. Dragging them across Rhys’ skin and making him shiver.
Eventually, they tested the waters enough to discover they were compatible. That their exploration of one another didn’t have a limit, extending out until Rhys moved over him like a wave as he rolled up and against Jack.
Getting rid of the bed frame felt like the next logical step.
It took a year to build the massive saltwater tanks and lock system that spanned the entire east side of Atlas HQ so Jack could bother Rhys where he lived.
Rhys didn’t tell him about it. Just enjoyed breaking the news when the time came.
Their relationship worked out better than Rhys could have ever predicted. Jack came and went as he pleased, but he never stayed away for long. Of course, the island still had its place in their lives, but Rhys suspected Jack not only enjoyed Meridian but fueling the rumors and speculation surrounding the two of them.
Rhys had heard all sorts of things about himself over the years. Some of them were more flattering than others, but none of it really mattered. Any good Rhys did in the universe was almost instantly negated by who he was alone. He wasn’t the worst of CEOs by far, but Rhys was still one of them, and so he was happily the monster they all thought him to be.
Jack was as well.
There was a large thump on the glass, and the scientist Rhys was talking to jumped in surprise. Rhys turned his head in time to see Jack with his teeth bared. He loved doing that, scaring anyone he could while in the building, which was hilariously easy.
Backdropped against Promethea’s sky, his darker color scheme made how dangerous Jack was out in the open sea more than apparent. Without light to reflect off his scales, anything in Jack’s crosshairs would be torn to shreds without knowing what hit it. Anything that managed to get away wouldn’t get very far with his claws and speed. Little did everyone know Jack preferred certain fish, and when he was there, he ate a lot of steak and sushi up in the penthouse with Rhys.
Given it was late enough for dinner and it had been several days since they’d seen one another, Rhys excused himself to the obvious relief of the scientist. However, before either of them could go anywhere, Jack winked, and there was no stopping Rhys’ smile.
People said a lot of things about the two of them, but there was usually a grain of truth to it. Like, sure, Jack’s tail was torn, but it was already like that when they met, and Rhys’ prosthetic fell into the sea because they were being idiots and knocked it off the dock. Rhys imagined this moment would spark another rumor, but they seemed to have their place.
No one asked questions, and no one tried to bother Jack, not that Rhys would allow it. And no one, including Rhys’ friends who knew the truth of everything, bothered him about it. It was weirdly normal for someone who lived his life in the public’s eye. It made it almost funny, considering how unconventional it was.
Upstairs, Jack wrapped himself around Rhys and looked at him with eyes that were deadly and possessive. He was more like the dragons in children’s stories than the merfolk. Jack did not share. He didn’t live in a group of his kind. There was no moderation in the way Jack hoarded things he cared about, especially when it came to Rhys.
People thought Jack was his most prized possession, but in reality, it was the opposite that was true.