Listen to the Water | FULL SERIES | Wattys 2022 Shortlist | ✔

(43) Taiki: Message-Fish

I listen helplessly as the song flows and pops in a singing voice I feel like I've heard before. Who do I know who knows the trade language? I run through all the Karu from Lix'i that I can remember, then wince as I rule out my entire tribe. It's not Sar, either; they have no voice to hear. Is it one of the Sandsingers? I'm having trouble remembering what any of their voices sound like. I'm not sure I've even heard some of them. With a Rashi-blessed leader and a camp in a dangerous location, they all use hand-language day-to-day.

Not to mention that the trade language has gone almost extinct ever since the Sami and Karu started fighting. There's no reason for anyone to still know it unless they're using it as a code. Even if this fish gets intercepted, it would be hard to find a translator.

Sar knows it, though.

I jet for our seamount cave. Only when I reach its entrance do I slow, as the weight of the conversation I left behind returns to me. This is important, but I'll also be changing the topic in a drastic way, and that's usually a bad thing in a conversation.

〈 Sar? 〉I say, out loud, as I peek into the cave. They and Ande both look up sharply. I can't sign without letting go of the fish, so I'll have to translate to Ande in a moment—or get Sar to. I lift the fish into view.〈 I found a message-carrier by a log at the surface. The message is in the trade language, I think. I don't know it. 〉

I can tell Sar was still crying a moment ago, but they sit up straight at that. I creep into the cave. When I reach them, they touch the fish near the gills, the most common anchor point for a message-song if the person sending it knows what they're doing. I stare intently at their hand before realizing their expression is probably the thing I want to see. I drag my gaze up again.

Sar's eyes are intent. The micro-expressions that flit across their face confirm they weren't lying when they told me they know the trade language. I try to determine their reaction to the message, but it's almost impossible. When it ends, Sar withdraws their hand. Only then do I realize they're shaking.

"Do you know the keysong?" they sign. That's the short sequence that will dispel the song clinging to the fish's scales, a quick way to finish what the slow fade of a moon or two would do anyway.

I shake my head.

"Then kill it."

That's the other way to dispel a message-song: cutting off the energy it feeds off of to stay alive. I murmur an apology to the fish for making its last moments more traumatic than they need to be, thank it for its life, then reposition my hands and twist sharply. Sar slumps back.

I lower the fish. "What did it say?"

Sar doesn't answer immediately. I take the moment to fill Ande in on what just happened. She nods once, then looks to Sar as they finally lift their hands.

"It was information on Karu movements," they sign. "What island the main fighting forces are stationed at, and their most recent movement. But almost nobody knows the trade language anymore. Most of the speakers that are left are in Rapal."

"Was it headed to Arcas, then?"

"I don't know."

"Who else could it be?"

"An Alliance-sympathetic scholar or... someone who's loyal to Arcas, or at least has something to do with the war. This isn't the first time we've intercepted messages like this, and they're all in the trade language. They also never identify themself, even in code? So I don't know if even the Alliance knows who they are." They pause. "We think there's... someone near the islands who's feeding information to the Alliance. Probably a group. They get everywhere."

"What's in the messages? Orders?"

"They don't give recommendations or orders. Just information."

I only know one group near the islands, but they're the one that jumps to mind far too quickly. If they were behind this, it would explain why the singing voice was familiar to me. I don't want to believe the Sandsingers would help the Alliance. But at the same time, I know they have a reason to wreak havoc in the surface waters. They also have networks of informants, some affiliated with the clans of their members, others not. Designated Sandsinger members act as liaisons with each of the groups they talk to, but the only ones who learn everything are Makeba and Neem.

Ande looks disturbed. "Is the information only going one way? Or is whoever's behind this telling the Karu things as well?"

Sar looks at her for a long time. Ande tips her head and crosses her arms.

"Why are you asking?" signs Sar at last.

"Why not? Am I not allowed to be curious about a potential double informant in the war that might end the rest of my people?"

I retreat to the caveside. Ande has a glint in her eye like she's ready to fight to get an answer. Sar might be stubborn, but so is she.

"Yes," signs Sar slowly, at last. "It's going both ways. Do you know who it might be?"

"That depends."

"On what?"

"The intent. Are they trying to deescalate both sides, or inflame them? Or, are they giving information strategically, so each side only thinks they have an accurate picture of the other, when they're really being directed to wherever the informant wants them to be?"

She signs this last part casually, but I know for sure now that we're thinking the same thing. Only I don't want to sign a word, and Ande is just going for it, fully willing to suggest that the Sandsingers might be behind this. Sar's look is unreadable. They know more than they're saying. I think Ande sees it, because she closes in for the kill.

"Because if it's the last one, then yes, I do know a group that might be behind it. But I want to know what you know first. We're all in this together, and if there's information going around that could push the war in one direction or another, it could have direct implications under the prophecy. What did the message say, and what sense did you get from it?"

Sar doesn't reply. Not in sign, at least. Something else passes between the two of them, like Ande sees something that I don't, or like they've talked about this before. Ande turns to me.

"You going to split that?" she signs. "I'm hungry."

I'm still holding the fish. Confusion makes me revert to automatic sharing, so I nod and hand it over. Sar tucks their hands away like they're trying to stay warm, though the water is already a little over my comfortable temperature. Maybe that's still cold for someone used to the surface. Or maybe they're not cold at all. Ande's look remains calm. I don't like being left out of whatever passed between them, but pushing feels like a bad idea when I can't even read the situation, so I keep my silence. I'll find out eventually. I hope.

We eat the fish in silence. Ande's tail flicks against the rocks the whole time, so it's not a surprise to me when we finish and she turns back to me.

"Can you go back outside for a bit?" she signs. "Sar and I want to talk."