Chapter Text
07 December 1989
Logging data is, bluntly put, a fucking slog at the worst of times. Due to the unpredictability of Mother Nature, water conditions and currents can change at any point in time making any data collection near impossible without risking the hull integrity of Kaikō. Past a depth of 1,000 meters, species richness drops drastically.
Most Mer communities are situated within the twilight zone and have gradually migrated out to open sea due to a variety of factors such as human pollution, recreational activities, and animal behavioral changes due to climate change. From our limited conversations with various Mers, they knew little of the deep sea communities which preferred absolute secrecy. What they did know, they were unwilling to divulge. The only one with any knowledge is likely Tengen. Not that this is likely of any help. According to historical accounts, she has been active since the Nara period and sequesters herself away from humans and Merkind alike. We’ve had limited experiences with deep sea Mer that range from neutrality to outright hostility. Generally, they prefer not to interact with us. Knowing how difficult life must be down in the depths of the Marianas Trench, it’s likely an attitude that stems from a one-track mind focused on survival. They simply do not have time to interact with us.
Any attempts to reach her have been a complete failure, but after today, I really, really want to pick her brain about what we experienced today. This is why I so desperately wanted to be part of this team.
These last few expeditions, our primary focus has been collecting data to assist in the accurate mapping of the seafloor. The ROV is fitted with rudimentary cameras but visibility can be 0% on the worst of days. Fortunately today it was crystal clear. You would think that at this depth, the ocean would be completely silent, although it’s obviously quieter than the twilight zone. We’ll get an errant anglerfish if we’re lucky. Then, everything went completely silent for a moment and after a few minutes we witnessed mass migration of all varieties of species heading towards the deep. It was unlike anything I’d ever seen in my life and completely unprecedented. The excitement in the air was fucking tangible. Although we wanted to push farther, our dive for the day was only rated for 7,500 meters and we were at 7,500. We pushed further down to similar erratic activity and briefly sighted the tail fin of an unidentified sea creature: either a whale or some type of Mer.
With this data, hopefully we can get approval from the higher ups to sign off on an expedition that goes deeper. This feels game-changing and I don’t even know what the hell happened. Maybe Yaga will be open to discussing the irregular activity. My Mermish is fairly extensive, but as I learned it in an academic setting it can be outdated or incorrect. Every conversation has been extremely eye-opening. The use of sign language conveys additional context and emotion which is very helpful considering producing the same clicks or trills as Mers is near impossible for a human, let alone their siren calls. Machinery we’ve created to mimic it is so rudimentary, it’d probably be offensive if Mers didn’t find it so hilariously bad.
Luckily, Yaga dwells just off the shore of the Izu Archipelago which is a few hour trip from Tokyo. I’m going to run it by my superior and consult with him. When I was a complete greenie, I met Yaga a few years ago when logging data within the Yamato Basin. It was a fortuitous meeting as due to an engine failure, we’d been effectively moored at sea and waiting on rescue. We’d been waiting there miserably when a huge-ass whale shark Mer emerged from the sea, like an avenging angel. That was Yaga who’d been massive even as a fifteen-year-old. Despite looking super terrifying, he was just as much of a softie as his animal counterpart. He reminds me of my little cousin, all gruff and awkward and reluctant to admit feelings, but secretly very kind. Due to my minor being in Mermish, I was able to communicate our plight to him and he assisted with pulling us almost 30 kms to shore, without even laughing at my atrocious accent! Take that Mom and Dad, Mermish DID come in handy as a hopeful sea researcher. He’s 18 now and I’ll run into him every once in a while when heading out to the open sea. Thankfully, my pronunciation is much better now.
He has some unexplained connection to Tengen which he has been tight-lipped about, but he is very forthright about what he can and cannot divulge. Hopefully, he can give us an idea about what occurred on this December day, but regardless of that exact moment when everything went silent at 06:26 A.M. was electrifying: like the balance of the entire ocean had changed.