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P IP FLOATED facedown.
He made sure to float at the surface, because he knew the Raft King wanted to see him, to see at least some of what he was doing. And anyway, Pip couldn’t sink more than ten or twelve feet deep without his head aching—like most people, he assumed, except that most people had to come up for air. And he didn’t.
And most people couldn’t talk with fish.
He also stayed at the surface because—just a little bit—he wanted to show off. After all, his ability with sea creatures was the only interesting thing about him, the only thing that he was especially good at. Kinchen, always protecting him, kept him away from people, so he’d never before had an audience. And it felt good to have an audience when he was doing something right.
He hung motionless in the water and sent out thoughts. For talking to fish, thinking wasn’t enough; you had to think with direction . Otherwise they couldn’t hear anything you said. It had taken him time to figure that out. Talking with fish wasn’t just something you did , no matter what people seemed to think. It might be a gift, but it wasn’t simply given; he’d had to practice it.
His thoughts flowed outward in rings. Hello? Who’s there? Eventually the fish began to arrive, returning the greeting and nudging one another as they congregated below him. Pip recognized some of them—those who swam back and forth from the bay near his house to this protected inland pond. Some of these fish he’d never seen before; but they’d all heard of him. Their thoughts swirled around him. The boy. The human who can talk. The fish jostled in the water.
As the sea creatures gathered, Pip studied them so he’d recognize them the next time he saw them. Fish were easy. They all looked like themselves. Individual and special, with their own markings and their own movements and their own quick way of flashing thoughts and their own sparkle.
Not like people, who—no matter how long Pip studied them—all looked the same to him. He could tell people apart by approximate age and size and length of hair and body shape, and sometimes by skin tone, if they were far enough off the medium-brown norm. But stand two average kids next to each other? Or two women? Or two old men? And it was over. Lucky for him Ren was so pale; and lucky too that Kinchen bleached the stripe in her hair for him. It was always a relief to see that hair and know that his recognizing work was done.
One of the fish he knew twitched upward to him, and Pip reached down to stroke her smooth, cool back. She was a young bass who called herself Flicker. We arrive here for a super-secret meeting of fishy minds and we still can’t escape you. She nipped his hand gently as she thought at him, and he grinned.
I’m a fish spy; it’s true.
Why the visit? Does this have to do with the giant raft? Flicker threaded herself through his dangling legs not unlike a cat. The other fish shivered into a pack, and he could hear their thoughts, wondering why he had come to the pond.
No, nothing is wrong. At least, I don’t think so. The Raft King—the human in charge of the giant raft—he thought it was interesting that I could talk to you all, and he wanted to see it. Pip struggled to keep his thoughts from sounding smug or bragging. He wanted to see me talk to fish.
Why? asked a minnow, and all the minnows echoed, Why? Why? Why? Their thin, wavery thoughts flashed through the water together.
The bass’s thoughts, deep and clear, drove through the clatter. Do the humans need something from us? What do they want?
I don’t know. There must be something the Raft King wanted—beyond just a simple show of Pip’s gift—but Pip didn’t know what it was. And he realized now, he’d been so excited to show his gift, so thrilled to be asked, that he hadn’t wondered what else the Raft King might want. I’ll find out when I go back up. Meanwhile...?
Fine, we’ll do a trick for your little human friends. If fish could roll their eyes, Flicker would be doing it now. Her thoughts had that fake-grumpy quality to them that Pip adored about her. What do you want?
Something happy. And impressive. Could you—could you all jump at the same time? Into the air?