Daniel C
As we sit down in perfect desperation and the pristine morning rays come travelling from over the Mediterranean all the way to this dusty hallway, the apish and still unconscious American makes gurgling sounds and time is made of glass, as all of these impressions surround us I think this is the right point in the story for some emotional discharge.
"You never told me about your mother."
The French girl sighs in a melodramatic way, then responds. "When I was four years old, she ate a rotten codfish. The ambulance arrived too late due to all the roads being blocked because of a national fishermen's strike against the government. The food poisoning killed her. It took my dad years to get over it."
It seems a disproportional part of the girl's life has been marked by fish. Looking into the unfathomable eyes, I search for words to keep the conversation alive.
"I never knew codfish were so dangerous."
"They aren't, usually. Of course with salmon you've always got to be careful, but I never heard of any other codfish poisonings. Except my mother. Do you believe in fate, Daniel?"
I shake my head. The silence grows like a cancer. I search for something to say.
"Tell me a little more about fish."
She blinks with her eyes a few times. "Well... it's hard to explain. There are many types of fish. My father is - was primarily skilled in preparing haddock or mackerell. Though he also did lobster and cuttlefish. I sometimes went with our village's fishermen, they usually caught a lot of mackerell of course, also turbot, but mainly mackerell. Sometimes they caught a garfish, then we'd all gather on the village square to have a festival dinner. There were also some prawn boats, you need special nets for those, you see? When you use regular nets on prawn they escape through the meshes. My personal favourite fish was the thornback ray, they always seemed to wave to me, sometimes when the fisherman had caught a ray I'd secretly throw it back into the water. So... there's a lot more to tell fish, but I don't know..."
"No, maybe it's better if... uhm... I wonder... do you know... what exactly happened to your father?"
I immediately regret the question. Obviously this episode has been too recent for the girl to process yet. Her eyes fill with tears, reflecting their colours.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."
"No, it's alright. We were standing in the kitchen. He was arranging the ingredients, I was... I don't know... we were having..."
I can see the memory hurts, I want to pull her back but I don't know how. She continues.
"We were having a quarrel. I wanted to study in Paris, he said he wanted... since my mother died, he needed all help he could. In the restaurant. I went outside, for a walk along the port. Then they came."
If silence could be weighted, this one would equal tons of ballast. Still I can't speak.
"They were flying fish. One time before I had seen flying fish, but only in the distance... but these were different, their eyes were shining, their teeth... almost as if they were possessed or something. They landed on the buildings. On the streets. The air didn't stop them. I saw everyone running, into the hills, I saw... their teeth were so sharp. In desperation, I threw myself into the fish wall, I landed into a boat. It sailed away. I survived. But I don't know... I can't imagine how... Maybe if I wouldn't have... wouldn't have quarrelled with him..."
The tears discharge. I know that I am supposed to put an arm around her shoulder. I calculate the different ways in which I could do that, but before I'm finished she sniffs and sweeps away the tears. I notice how, even on her cheeks, the tears still have the colour of the eye they came from.
"I'm sorry," she says. "I don't... I don't understand. They were fish. How could they..."
I remember something. "Wait... Do you remember what Mark Zuckerberg said?"
"I... No, I was too surprised... I guess."
"About the fish. He reacted... astonished. He said something like he thought he could only command humans."
"You mean that Mark is responsible for..."
"I don't know. It could be. How long before had you... been in a relationship with him?"
She falls silent, again, but luckily not for long. "I don't know, exactly, but... no more than three weeks. Maybe... I could have know... That... that... salaud." And the tears come again. I am done calculating and stretch out my left arm first, so that I can put my right one behind it, and avoid any clumsy scenes. However, again I cannot finish my intention. The crystal orb starts emitting an aggresively white flash, attacking our eyes like a vicious animal. For some moments I cannot see anything, then slowly the light mutes and the room reappears, stained by disturbances in my retina. After some moments I realise there is a face in the orb.
"Thank the immortal gods I found you. You've done great so far. Listen to me, I know what to do next."