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    The Farpool: Convergence
    The Farpool: Convergence
    The Farpool: Convergence
    Ebook454 pages6 hours

    The Farpool: Convergence

    By Philip Bosshardt

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    About this ebook

    In the early 22nd century, a new craze is sweeping the Earth. Humans in record numbers are being modified as amphibians, the better to confront the growing popularity of the Seomish (the Sea People) who emigrated to the oceans of Earth from a dying planet through the Farpool. Chase Meyer, already modified, and his new wife Angie Gilliam, recently modified, have their first child. But this idyllic state of affairs doesn’t last when the existential threat of the malevolent Coethi becomes apparent to all.
    Research conducted by the Chinese indicates the Coethi visited Earth millions of years ago, as well as other sites in the solar system. A mission is sent to explore an anomaly on Europa and Chase becomes part of the crew. But the mission fails to resolve the threat there and Chase returns, only to find that Angie has died in a car accident, and his daughter is gravely injured.
    When intelligence shows the Coethi may have modified early life on Earth by altering the genomes of ancient viruses, and that now all viruses today are descendants of these modified lifeforms, a more critical mission is proposed: use the Farpool to send crews back in time, to ancient Earth, Mars and Europa to stop the Coethi and to monitor the Chinese, who are attempting to cooperate with the enemy.
    Chase joins the Genesis 3 team, figuring to use the Farpool to go back in time before Angie’s accident and prevent it from happening. But the greater mission is to reconnoiter Earth three hundred million years ago. However, Chase and his crew don’t reckon on what the Coethi can do. They end up stranded on this ancient Earth but the crew manages to convince the Coethi invaders to help them escape. The Genesis 3 team is soon beset with even greater problems, though, when the Chinese try to take control of the alien jumpship and, through a critical navigation error, wind up on Seome just before the star-sun of that doomed world goes supernova.
    Encountering far future human time travelers also fighting the Coethi, Chase must convince his future descendants to cooperate and help the Genesis 3 team depart Seome before catastrophe occurs. They get away before the end comes, but once again, navigation errors place them in the wrong time. They land on Earth, but a thousand years in the future; now there are two suns in the sky and their ship is wrecked. Stranded in the future, they leave signs of their predicament in a cave in South Africa, signs that would be discovered a thousand years before by a curious paleontologist.
    Now a harrowing rescue mission must be completed to rescue the stranded travelers from a doomed future. Will the rescuers reach Chase and Angie in their new time stream? Can humans and amphibs and Seomish cooperate long enough to survive? Will the Genesis 3 team make it back home to their own time?
    Only time will tell.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherPhilip Bosshardt
    Release dateJun 29, 2018
    ISBN9780463568286
    The Farpool: Convergence
    Author

    Philip Bosshardt

    Philip Bosshardt is a native of Atlanta, Georgia. He works for a large company that makes products everyone uses...just check out the drinks aisle at your grocery store. He’s been happily married for over 20 years. He’s also a Georgia Tech graduate in Industrial Engineering. He loves water sports in any form and swims 3-4 miles a week in anything resembling water. He and his wife have no children. They do, however, have one terribly spoiled Keeshond dog named Kelsey.For details on his series Tales of the Quantum Corps, visit his blog at qcorpstimes.blogspot.com or his website at http://philbosshardt.wix.com/philip-bosshardt.

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      Book preview

      The Farpool - Philip Bosshardt

      The Farpool: Convergence

      Published by Philip Bosshardt at Smashwords

      Copyright 2018 Philip Bosshardt

      Smashwords Edition, License Notes

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      Chapter 1

      Woods Hole Oceanographic Institute

      Conicthyosis Lab

      Woods Hole, Massachusetts

      September 2, 2120

      Angie Gilliam and Chase Meyer arrived at the Conicthyosis lab early in the morning, to meet with Dr. Josey Holland prior to undergoing the amphib hybridization procedure. Angie was nervous. She knew that her mother was adamantly opposed to having this procedure done, for when it was done, Angie would be an amphib like Chase, modified like Chase, part Seomish, part human, and able to travel in and out of water, just like her boyfriend.

      You won’t feel a thing, Dr. Holland told her. We put you in here—it’s just like a hotel room, go ahead, take a look—and you stay there for several days while the procedure’s going on.

      Angie peered into the comfortably furnished quarters. Two rooms, a bedroom and kitchenette, with full bath and lots of screens, pads, tablets, TVs and other things to occupy her time. And it’s called a containment chamber?

      Holland shrugged, fiddled with some russet braids of hair on her shoulders. Unfortunate choice of words. I prefer to call this facility the ‘hotel.’ Sounds better. But yes, in here, the entire procedure will be conducted. It’s mostly automated. The only reminder that this is a lab is that bed over there…with the arms sticking out of the wall.

      Remote manipulators, Chase said. There were four articulating, tele-operated arms ‘parked’ in stowed position, hanging from a cabinet-like structure, with a bevy of cameras and instruments aimed down, themselves perched on arms.

      Exactly, Holland agreed. During the procedure, there will be times where you’ll be in that bed—fully anesthetized—while we perform certain steps. The medbot insertions, for example.

      Angie just shivered. You said this procedure has been done many times.

      Holland said, Here at Woods Hole, the Lab has done the amphib procedure around a hundred and fifty times. Haven’t lost anyone yet. She winced inside and realized she shouldn’t have said that. Not everyone had the same sense of humor as her assistants.

      It’s perfectly safe, then?

      Holland nodded. Yes, of course. But we do have some preliminary matters to attend to. I’ll have to have you and Chase sign some waivers before we start. Departmental…and Institute policy, you understand.

      Holland took them on a short tour of the interior of the containment quarters. It resembled a small apartment and was more extensive than either Chase or Angie realized, with a small bed, toilet, kitchenette with sink and fab and refrigerator, and some bookshelves. A vid screen dominated a small but cozy sitting area. Along one wall, near the bed, a separate counter had been placed with ports above the counter for remote manipulator and surgical extension gloves to reach inside the containment zone, for samples, blood tests and short-range examinations. Around the ceiling of the compartment, vid cameras were everywhere.

      First, you make yourself comfortable, right in that bed, Holland explained. The technology is largely based on use of genetically modified and programmed bacteria and microbial organisms. We begin with a genetic sequencing and a neural scan. After the sequencing and scans, the bacteria and microbes are selected and ‘tuned’ to match yours. Holland was sympathetic to Angie’s growing anxiety. It was normal; you could see it in their eyes, the way their lips tightened.

      Let’s go into my office—it’s just around the corner—and I’ll run through the tests and the basics of the procedure…what to expect over the next few days. Then there’ll be all the waivers and consent forms to sign.

      Later that afternoon, Angie announced she was ready. She was already clad in a light blue hospital gown. Looks like a grocery sack, Chase teased it. That didn’t help.

      She went into the containment quarters, gave Chase a quick peck, and watched with growing apprehension as the inner and outer doors cycled and locked themselves. Her ears popped with the pressure change.

      I’m a nurse now, for God’s sake. I put people under for procedures every day. Why does this bother me so?

      Maybe it wasn’t the procedure. Maybe it was the outcome…she could still hear Dr. Holland’s words, describing the new abilities she would have as an amphib: gill sacs, cutaneous respiration, melanocytic modifications in her skin cells, tissue changes in her hands and feet, with barely discernible webbing. I’ll look like a frog on steroids! she complained. I won’t be able to run laps with Gwen and the others—

      Don’t be ridiculous, Chase told her. You can still run and you can swim like a fish too. You couldn’t do that before.

      Angie seemed downcast the more she heard. I’m doing this for us, Chase. I hope you know that.

      They kissed and she disappeared into quarters.

      The first steps of the procedure would be conducted in a bed-like cocoon pod in the front room of the chamber.

      Holland’s voice came over a speaker on the wall. Open the pod by pressing on the side…you’ll feel a series of bumps—when they’re both open, lie down inside, face up. Fold your arms over your chest. Then relax…we’ll do the rest.

      Angie gingerly lay herself down inside the pod, shifting about to get comfortable. It was actually pretty cozy there, but she couldn’t stop the shakes.

      After you lie down inside, contractile fibers will unfurl and extend. It’s perfectly normal. They will envelop your body. The fibers have sharp tips. You won’t feel it but the tips will inject a potion. You will sleep. And when you wake up, the first phase will be done. If all goes well—

      Angie shuddered, wrapped her arms around her shoulders. "Ugh. If all goes well…I wish she hadn’t said that."

      Ready, Angie?

      As ready as I’ll ever be.

      Then, the cocoon began squeezing her slowly between its wall segments, like she was being excreted into the pod. The pod did look like a bed, a big oblong bed, encased in some kind of scaly outer covering. Chase decided they looked like gigantic watermelon halves, even down to the black seeds scattered around the interior. Those were part of the cushioning.

      Angie made a face. She lay back carefully inside the pod.

      For a long time, nothing happened. She dozed off, then awoke hearing a faint whistle. She sniffed something, it smelled like oranges. Then she noticed a faint mist issuing into the pod.

      This is like being in a coffin, she thought. She’d been wreck diving with Chase in tight spots like this, so she told herself she could get through it. But she wondered nonetheless. What will I really look like when this is over…some kind of mutant gator? The mist thickened. She didn’t know it but the mist contained the first wave of programmed bacteria. The bacteria would begin the process, penetrating into her nose, her mouth and eyes, burrowing into her skin, breaking down tissues and bone and cartilage, rebuilding structures to begin making her more compatible with amphibs.

      Of course, Angie didn’t understand all the details. Her wristpad had been programmed to describe the process in detail, but the voice was soft and staticky and she wasn’t really listening. Instead, she grew sleepy.

      That’s when the dreams came.

      As a child, Angie had always been a serious person, committed and dedicated to whatever task she was working on. She was extremely imaginative even as a very young child and often spent hours amusing herself with the VR slate (the oculus) and the holopod and 3d printer, creating and populating imaginary worlds. She showed abilities as a filmmaker and writer/storyteller that impressed her Mom a great deal.

      One of her favorite imaginary worlds was one she called Principia, full of kings and queens, fairy princesses and dragons and lots of horses. Angie always loved horses. Some of her own work with the oculus involved creating and animating all kinds of horses. She had two imaginary horses, Lucy and Lucky, that she used as imaginary creatures in her stories.

      When Angie was four, her father Horace abandoned the family for another woman. The family was living in Gainesville, Florida at the time, and Horace was a professor at the University of Florida. He taught American History and Political Science. The younger woman was named Cecilia Fortnoy and she worked as an assistant staff aide to the Florida Governor in Tallahassee. Horace became interested in her because he seemed to gravitate to woman who were important or doing important things in his eye. Being around powerful people or celebrities always fascinated Horace. Maggie, working in Gainesville as a waitress at a fast-food restaurant (Venetian Feast) couldn’t fill this need. They divorced in the summer of 2106 and Maggie had to take a second, later a third job, to make ends meet.

      Angie was devastated. She felt totally abandoned.

      Working so many jobs to put food on the table, Maggie Gilliam (she kept her married name) was always tired and irritable. Angie saw what this did to people. One of the effects of Maggie having to work so hard and being tired and cranky all the time, was that Mom no longer had time to play games or do puzzles with her kids. This made Angie feel lonesome and she retreated into her imaginary worlds even more. At the age of six, starting school and Net Tutor, she was already writing and illustrating her own Principia stories.

      But nothing she had imagined for Principia ever came close to what she saw when she woke up from the conicthyosis procedure.

      This time, Angie knew she wasn’t dreaming.

      The first day of waiting was the hardest for Chase. He sat for hours in the waiting room at the Lab, amusing himself with games and stuff on his pad, then for kicks programmed the pad to google articles and interviews about amphibs. Amphibs were the hottest thing now, even celebrities were doing it. It was global. It was a cultural phenomenon. Even Dr. Holland had gone through the procedure, though you had to look close to see it.

      Chase’s wristpad chimed when a hit was made that matched his search criteria. But he barely heard the voice from his pad explaining Amphibs…

      Amphib stands for amphibious. The conicthyosis procedure creates an amphibious, bipedal terrestrial vertebrate form, with two legs, two arms, etc. However, the amphib retains some characteristics of an amphibious creature. An amphib has gill sacs in slightly protruding pouches under its arms. It has skin that supports cutaneous respiration and must be kept moist at all times. There is some residual webbing between fingers and toes. There are some additional skin folds around the eyes and an extra protective layer of tissue inside the eye socket, to help the amphib protect its eyes when submerged. Amphib eyes are notable for long periods of staring and fixation, as amphibians do not exhibit saccadic eye movements, but must ‘fix’ an object in their visual field to activate cognitive circuits to analyze and respond properly to the stimulus. Amphibs also have electroreceptors in their skin, which allows them to sense and locate objects nearby when they are submerged, by alteration of existent electrical fields….

      He’d dozed off on the sofa—how long he didn’t know-- and had to force his eyes open to catch the next vid the pad was bringing up. It was some kind of news item, something from Solnet, by the looks of it….

      SOLNET Special Report

      As a part of our continuing effort to bring the most compelling and newsworthy stories on the amphib phenomenon to you, Solnet Special Report sent correspondent Anika Radovich to Freeburg, Tennessee, to interview the citizens of this small town and get their views on what is happening. While every news source is unique, Special Report found that the views and opinions of the people of this mountain hamlet were particularly representative of the most commonly held views across our audience.

      "I’m standing here on the side of Main Street in Freeburg, Tennessee, with one of the more notable citizens of this lovely town, nestled in the foothills of the Smoky Mountains. Mr. Lanier Barnes has achieved a certain notice, some would say notoriety, for Freeburg as a result of his strongly-held opinions about amphibs. Mr. Barnes, welcome to Special Report and thanks for taking the time to be with us."

      Well, shoot, Anika, what’s a fellow going to do when a pretty young thing like yourself comes sashaying by. Where’d you say you were from?

      Thank you, Mr. Barnes. Actually, Germany. Mr. Barnes, could you explain what all these people have gathered for? I see you’ve got some kind of rally going.

      (COMMAND TO DRONECAM: Altitude 20 meters. Wide-angle establishing shot…be sure to center Barnes and get the Courthouse Square and those mountains in the background…I’ll add effects later)

      That’s right, young lady. Every day this week, we got a rally going right here on Main Street. Just look at ‘em, must be several hundred of these good folks today.

      What’s the purpose of your rally, sir?

      Well, we’ve been rallying and Net-blasting for some time now, trying to call attention to the gravest problem we face today.

      Which is--?

      Barnes’ face takes on a pained look, like something he had eaten didn’t agree with him. Those pointy-head bureaucrats at the UN won’t enforce the danged Sanctuary Laws. You know, all the Containment Laws. Hell, we already fought wars over that, didn’t we? All the friggin’ frogheads and fish people are taking over.

      Mr. Barnes, I am assuming you are referring to amphibs?

      Darn right, sweetie. Frogheads. They should be quarantined, like the scum they are. We need to stick the lot of ‘em into camps, like we did to the Japs back in the 20th century…you know: enemy aliens.

      (DRONECAM IMAGE FILE 223.832: Placards and signs wave in vigorous agreement with Barnes. Other members of the rally close in around the speaker. There is some good-natured shoving and shouts of Damn right! "Give it to ‘em straight, Barnes!) (AR Annotation File).

      Mr. Barnes, amphibs are just people, like you and me. Changed to allow them live in water and on land…surely you don’t think of these people as enemy aliens?

      They’re mutant frogs, all of them. I don’t think of dangerous viruses as enemy aliens either…but I don’t want ‘em around. All these frogs are eating our food, drinking our water, mating with our women…they need to be in camps.

      "Excuse me, Mr. Barnes…did you say mating with our women? I’m not aware of any amphibs accused of sexual engagements with normal—I should say, unmodified, humans."

      Oh, Missy, you don’t know the half of it. A middle-aged woman with short-cropped black hair squeezes out of the crowd and stands before Anika. The reporter whispers into her lip mike DRONECAM…get a close-up of this— These frogs have been defiling our daughters and sisters for years. I know it’s supposed to be illegal, but you know it goes on. What kind of offspring could possibly come from such infernal liaisons…monsters, half-bred freaks, that’s what.

      Barnes cuts in. We’re rallying today to get the Town Council of Freeburg to take a stand. Here…get your friggin’ bird-camera down here and I’ll show you—

      Radovich sent the command and the dronecam wheeled about and descended slowly on its whirring quadrotors, hovering just over their heads. Its multiplex cameras zoomed in and Radovich adjusted the view she was getting on her SuperQuark glasses, pecking at a small wristpad. DRONECAM…hold there—

      You’re holding up a sign, Mr. Barnes. Would you mind reading it out loud and then explaining what it’s about.

      Surely. Barnes held the placard so the dronecam would get a clear close-up. "It says MAKE CHASTAIN HILL A FROG CAMP! We want the Town Council to designate the whole Chastain Hill area as a sort of re-settlement camp for frogheads…er, I mean amphibs. Keep ‘em separate from the rest of us, so they won’t contaminate everything in sight."

      Just enforce the damned Containment Laws! came a voice from the back of the crowd.

      There was a chorus of "Yeahs!" and a sea of fists waving and pumping up and down.

      Anika Radovich quietly instructed the dronecam to rise back to twenty meters and pan the crowd, which was getting more agitated.

      "Mr. Barnes, you have referred to your followers as Hellcats. Why this name? Isn’t the official name of your movement Sons of Adam?"

      Barnes sniffed, waved his hand expansively around the gathering. We think of ourselves as normalizers. We enforce normality. Frogheads ain’t normal. We call ourselves Sons of Adam ‘cause we intend to regain the way of life we used to have in this country. We plan to make life hell for these scumbugs…just like Senator Palette says.

      The black-haired lady with the placard vigorously agreed. SOA advocates for legislation and regulations that will preserve our original heritage, what God gave us in the Garden.

      Anika Radovich found it expedient to thank Barnes for the interview and back herself out of the crowd, which was closing in steadily, shouting, jeering, fist-pumping. She had started to feel smothered and hand-waved the dronecam to follow. Radovich retired to a street corner on the other side of Main Street, out in front of Collier’s Drug Store.

      While Barnes and his followers surged like an angry mob down the street toward the town hall, she decided to add some commentary to the footage they already had.

      "It should be noted that Lanier Barnes and the rallies he has been leading the last few days here in Freeburg are anything but exceptional. Similar rallies and protests exist in many countries and cities around the world, in Europe and Asia, even parts of Africa. The rallies and the demands sometimes take different forms. But the underlying animosity toward amphibs in general is the same. A deeply-felt sentiment is growing that amphibs need to be contained and even be gathered into concentration camps and isolated from society.

      "Followers of the Sons of Adam fear contamination by the Sea People and by the growing popularity of amphib culture. As of today, hundreds of people around the world have gone through the conicthyosis procedure and become Seomish-human hybrids, much to the displeasure of parents and politicians everywhere, especially Senator Ryan Palette, the ostensible founder of SOA. Amphib culture, the Amphib look, Amphib foods, traditions and beliefs are becoming all the rage. SOA views this as a grave threat to America and similar organizations are erupting around the world.

      "Solnet Special Report always strives to be fair and objective in our reporting. Before making our trip to Freeburg, this reporter spent some time at an Amphib rally, an ‘awakening’, as they call it, just outside of London. We interviewed conicthyosis volunteers in a queue at the Westfields Market, lined up to be registered… about just why they are doing this…."

      Chase’s attention was momentarily diverted by a voice…it was one of the nurses, poking her head into the waiting room.

      Mr. Meyer, the first phase is over…Dr. Holland wants to know if you’d like to speak to Angie…she’s just coming around now.

      Chase bounded to his feet. You bet I would. The nurse escorted him down several halls to a monitor and a small window that showed the interior of the containment quarters.

      That’s when Chase got his first view of Angie Gilliam…halfway through conicthyosis.

      He swallowed hard at the sight.

      She was clad in a yellow hospital gown, with extra padding around her neck and upper shoulders. Angie came to the window and smiled wanly.

      How do you feel? Chase asked. Doc says the procedure’s about half done.

      She smiled sheepishly and shrugged. Tired. Wiped out. How do I look? There’s no mirror in here.

      Dr. Holland started to say something but refrained. In scores of amphib procedures before, she had learned it was best not to have a mirror nearby, at least not until the end. Patients sometimes freaked when they saw the intermediate look.

      Chase put on a brave smile. Actually, good. I can see changes around your head and neck— there were bony knobs of cartilage around the top of her head and ears…just like mine, huh? He tapped the side of his own head. Kind of makes you look like the Devil."

      She shook her head. Chase, you always knew how to compliment a girl. Dr. Holland, how much longer will this take? I’m kinda hungry.

      Holland came to the window. Another day or so in the pod. There are three more rounds of nanobotic intervention to come…skin reconstruction, integumentary upgrades, osteoderm scaffolding. Internal stuff too. You’re at a middle stage now…some things are closer to completion than others. For instance, those ‘bumps’ you feel under your armpit…those are mucous glands. They’ll help keep your skin moist in the air and the tissue structure’s mostly done. We still have work to do with your genome as well…much of the last few hours are devoted to re-writing and verifying that. All in all, you’re coming along fine. I just thought you two would like to visit for a time.

      Angie wrapped her arms around herself and noticed bony ridges along her forearms. Will these be like Chase’s?

      Chase pulled back his shirt sleeve to reveal his own armfins. Neat, huh? Helps your stroke in the water. I wish I’d had these when I was on the swim team.

      Holland nodded. Yours will be slightly less pronounced. Female skeletal understructure is less massive. But yes, they’ll be similar.

      Angie closed her eyes for a moment, swaying unsteadily. She grasped a counter edge to keep from falling. I’m tired. And a little scared.

      Holland was sympathetic. There’s nothing to be scared of, dear. You’re doing fine. We’ve seen no complications, no issues. Just some more work to be done, that’s all.

      Her eyes found Chase’s. I guess I won’t be your track star girl anymore. Do I look like a frog yet?

      You look like Angie, Chase tried sound positive. It was a little startling to see the change, especially in mid-stream.

      She had always had short dark brown hair, with lighter highlights. Angie kept her hair short, in a page-boy cut. One wave of hair dropped down over her right eyes. She had perky little curls at her ears. Chase liked to call her hair a bowl cut, which didn’t please Angie at all. But she had always liked her hair short.

      She had an angelic face, with deep-set, almost garnet eyes and fine features. Her lips were thin. Chase thought her face reminded him of a chocolate swirl cookie. He liked to call her Cookie just to annoy her. Together, they were Flip and Cookie. Angie had a longish nose, with a little button tweak at her nostrils, which embarrassed her. Chase knew better than to make fun of that. Her nostrils always flared visibly when she was mad or annoyed.

      She also had a mischievous smile, with cheek dimples. Her lips made a faint upward curl when she was amused, like a sliver of a crescent moon on the horizon. This accentuated her cheeks and dimples, which were faintly freckled. That little half-smile, almost a smirk, always drove Chase wild. She seemed to know much more than she let on, she seemed to know secrets that you could never guess and she was just waiting to spring them on you. Angie was always playful, a bit of a tease, and very athletic. She was tall and broad-shouldered, which seemed to conflict with such a pixie look on her face. She was a good swimmer, though not in Chase’s class, but her first love was track and field. She had tried every sport in that area and was an excellent distance runner and hurdler. She could never imagine herself as a cheerleader. She never liked to feel like she was on display. I’m not window dressing, she said. I’m the real deal.

      Now, studying the changes so far, Chase secretly rued the loss of the very things that had always attracted him. But she was doing this for him, for both of them, and that was something.

      Dr. Holland, can’t I get a mirror in here?

      Holland shook her head. It’s better to wait until we’re done, Angie. You’re at an intermediate stage. Things will still be changing a lot over the next day or so. Let’s wait on the mirror for now, okay?

      Okay.

      All right, you two, say goodbye. Angie, I want you to head back to the pod and climb in. I’ll be initiating Stage 2 in a few minutes. Just get comfortable in there. The rest is automatic.

      If you say so…. She put her palm against the window—already, the cartilage knobs for thin webbing were visible between her fingers—and Chase matched the gesture. They blew kisses at each other, then she tore herself away, wrapped her gown a little tighter and went to the pod, climbing in a bit awkwardly.

      Moments later, the pod closed and sealed.

      Chase took a deep breath and turned away. Holland was sympathetic and put a hand on his shoulder.

      Go take a walk, Chase. She’s doing fine. This middle part is always a bit traumatic for loved ones. Of course, you’ve already been through this.

      It’s easier when you’re doing it yourself. To see it, in someone else---

      Their eyes met.

      Chase decided a walk was a good idea. I’ll head down to the shore for a bit, he decided. You’ll call me if—"

      Nothing’s going to happen, trust me. Everything’s going just right. Go ahead--get some fresh air and sunshine. It’ll do you good.

      Yeah, that and about five beers.

      He left the Lab and walked down to Nobska Road. It was cool and breezy among the sand dunes, with white clouds scudding by across a deep blue sky. The Sound was choppy in the wind, with lines of whitecaps stretching from one end of the beach to the other. Overhead, sky surfers and drones flitted by overhead, while lunch time strollers with sack meals sauntered along the gravel walk above the beach, engrossed in their wristpads.

      It was a big step Angie was taking, he told himself. A big step they were both taking. Sure, Amphibs were all the rage but like the Solnet report said, not everybody was enamored with the rising popularity of them and Chase had to admit there were still times he encountered slights, insults, sideways glances and muttered curses on the streets around the UN and the Sea Council facilities in New York. People didn’t like change. People were frightened, even intimidated, by the suddenness of the amphib phenomenon, by the profound and very visible differences between normal Homo sapiens and those who had gone through conicthyosis. Sociologists called it ‘fear of the other,’ and there were papers and presentations about outsiders, tribes and clans and all the complex relationships that sprouted when one tribe encroached on another’s territory. Everybody had a pet theory. There were thousands of theories.

      But Chase knew that beyond any theory was one incontrovertible fact: the Seomish had come to Earth from a doomed world and they weren’t going back. Seomish were true marine creatures. They lived under the sea. Humans were land creatures. They lived in what the Seomish called Notwater. Two intelligent races existed on the planet now, where once, for millions of years, there had been only one.

      Somehow, some way, they had to find a way to get along. And that’s where Amphibs came in. The conicthyosis procedure that Josey Holland had developed and perfected made a link between the two races possible. Now, with Amphibs, people who had gone through the procedure could live and love in both worlds, marine and land. Tribes could intermix, even interbreed, though Holland had said that might take a little more work to prove out. Families could develop and connections could be forged across the boundary.

      The only trouble was that both Humans and Seomish often viewed the Amphibs with equal disdain and suspicion. When you could live and travel among both worlds, it was like you weren’t really a part of either world. Like Tulcheah, herself half-Ponkti and half-Omtorish, you were thought a half-breed, even a freak.

      Unwelcome and unwanted in both realms.

      Chase had stopped at a small line of benches just below the seawall and sat down. Without realizing it—maybe it was the lunch he’d wolfed down—he’d nodded off. A hand on his shoulder startled him awake.

      It was Renee, one of Dr. Holland’s techs. Renee was a cute redhead, with green eyes, shoulder-length tresses.

      Sorry, Mr. Meyer, I didn’t mean to startle you.

      Chase sat up and rubbed his eyes. Wow…I didn’t mean to fall asleep.

      Renee took a deep breath in the salt air. "Well, we’ll forgive you this time…it is a beautiful day, isn’t it?"

      What’s up?

      Dr. Holland says the procedure is over. Angie’s just coming around. She wants you back at the Lab.

      Chase sprinted over the seawall and was trotting through the glass doors fronting Oyster Pond Road almost before Renee could say another word.

      Angie was still in her hospital gown when he arrived, though this one was new, a light blue robe, with a sash around her waist.

      He smiled through the window and she smiled back. Her voice was noticeably stronger this time.

      Chase, I just saw myself in a mirror. I do look like a frog.’ Her face was tears and smiles at the same time. No more cute butt. No more track star legs. Now I belong…. She choked back more tears… in a pond somewhere…on a lily pad— she covered her face with her hands. "I’ve even got these— she held up the underside of her arms, …can you believe it? Freakin’ warts, for God’s sake!"

      Chase turned to Holland. Can I go in? Can I be with her?

      Of course.

      Holland motioned to Renee and another technician to cycle the lock. Door seals hissed and the massive containment hatch swung open slowly. Chase rushed inside.

      They hugged for a long time.

      Chase…Chase--?

      It’s okay. It’s okay. You’re doing fine. Doc says you’re doing fine.

      She buried her face, now ridged with bony projections around her neck, into his shoulders. I’m not so sure about this—is there any way to…to--?

      Chase put fingers to her mouth. Shhh…shhh. Don’t say it. You did this for me, for both of us. Now, once you’re out of recovery, we can go see all our friends at Keenomsh’pont. We can stay with them, roam with them, live with them if we want. You don’t need a suit anymore. Or dive gear. We can visit them, come back here, visit them again. This is great, don’t you think?

      Angie pulled her head out of his shoulders and blinked up a him. She was still getting used to the extra eyelid. What about my friends? Gwen and the others. And my job…nobody wants a frog on steroids for a nurse at Creekside Med.

      We’ll work it out, Angie. We’ll figure it out. Dr. Holland, how long does she need to stay here?

      Holland drummed a finger on her lips. Well, we need to do some more tests. Pretty comprehensive exams are coming up. The recommended recovery and rehab time is three weeks. After that, we’ll see. But that’s normal for conicthyosis patients. Plus there will be some medications she’ll have to take…anti-inflammatory stuff. Her immune system will be trying to reject some of the changes. The underlying genetic mods we made will support the changes, but there are almost always residual effects. We want to be sure.

      Angie started to cry again. That’s when Chase decided to do something he’d been thinking about for quite some time. He’d always wanted to do this somewhere more romantic, maybe some tropical island somewhere, with palm trees and coconuts and Margueritas and all, but a strong premonition told him that now was the time, don’t wait any longer, this is the moment.

      He held Angie out at arm’s length, held her face up with one hand, and kissed her hard. She didn’t resist and in time, gave in and kissed him back.

      The words came out, not quite like he intended them, but still recognizable, though he almost choked on them getting through.

      Angie Gilliam, will you marry me?

      His words had the effect of a time machine, almost freezing time in the containment room. All motion stopped for what seemed like eternity, maybe longer. No words were spoken. No breaths were taken. Nothing moved. Then, with a catch in her voice, Angie twisted out of his grip and stared back at his face, puzzled.

      What?

      Chase blinked and repeated what he said. I want you to marry me, Angie. I’ve been thinking about it a long time…longer than you realize. I— he kept stumbling and rambling on, trying to describe all the feelings he couldn’t put words to, all the fears he had, the hopes…never realizing that Angie’s face had undergone another transformation and this one couldn’t be explained by conicthyosis.

      You want to get married…did I hear you right, Chase?

      Now, he felt his face flush red and he stammered. Uh, yeah…you did— no, this wasn’t quite how he imagined the scene, this wasn’t the way her response always went in his mind when he replayed the scene over and over again…and what the hell was that queer look on her face anyway?

      Oh, Chase— her words didn’t quite match what he had imagined they would be but she fell into his arms again and they hugged, harder than ever. Chase…it’s…I don’t know what to say…this is so—

      Dr. Josey Holland stood behind them at the hatch and tried a brave smile she didn’t quite feel. She had seen lots of reactions in her dozens and dozens of procedures, everything from speechless shock to giggles and people fainting dead away onto the floor.

      But never this. A marriage proposal, for Chrissakes, right in front of her eyes. She’d always thought Chase was cute, unique, really a special kind of person. Some kind of blond, well-built surfer guy caught up into intergalactic intrigue, refreshingly honest, painfully sincere, a boy just out of high school forced by circumstance to grow up way too fast.

      Getting to know him, there had been times…even a fantasy or two, but now—

      She barely heard Angie’s whispered response.

      Chase….yes…yeah, let’s do this. I— she blinked hard, laughed,

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