Mr Remeo You Promise Me Chapter 19

Posted by admind, ? Views, Released on February 3, 2025

Chapter 19

He guides me to a large glass cylinder located in the middle of the room, the only thing marring the perfect view into the Marble. To my astonishment, Peter waves his ID badge in front of the cylinder, prompting an imperceptible doorway to open.

“An elevator?” I ask.

“It’s the best view in the house,” he replies.

The elevator is simple but beautifully complex, a glass tube that offers an unhindered 360–degree view straight through the center of the aquarium. I gasp in delight as I catch sight of Wake in the distance.

Then, I momentarily forget how to breathe altogether when Wake catches sight of me, his dark eyes locking onto mine and staying there. Like a heat–seeking missile, he begins to follow the elevator’s trajectory, watching. Hunting.

“Where does this elevator go?” I ask.

“To an observation deck that opens into the center of the Marble. It gives us access to the specimens when we need it,” Peter says.

“Is that how you got Wake into the tank?” I ask.

Peter adjusts his glasses. “He had legs at the time, but yes. He didn’t regain his tail until he was reintroduced to seawater.”

Meaning they had tossed Wake’s unconscious body into a pool the size of a lake and hoped for the best. “We don’t know how his metamorphosis works. What if he’d retained his human lungs and drowned?” I demand, my temper piqued.

“Then we would have learned a very important lesson about merfolk and their glaring evolutionary weaknesses,” Peter replies, unfazed by my temper.

The elevator comes to a stop and opens onto a large circular observation deck, the floor of which is translucent, allowing me a clear view of Wake as he trails me across the platform from below. My nose begins to twitch as I catch a faint scent of petrichor and brine. When Peter has his back turned, I lift an arm to sniff myself, but my shower had ensured I wasn’t the source of the smell.

“What is that smell?” I murmur.

“Did you say something?” Peter asks distractedly as he powers on the bank of monitors and begins tapping away at their screens.

But what would I say? That the scent of the sea was following me around when we were standing in the middle of the world’s largest saltwater fishtank? He’d think I was off my meds. Hell, I was beginning to wonder if I wasn’t myself.

“Never mind. What are you looking for?” I ask. Most of the screens show different angles of the inside of the tank and the creatures residing inside, including several different species of sharks, innumerable fish and crustaceans, and even a small pod of porpoises.

“This,” Peter says, bringing up an audio file and pressing play. “Listen.”

A baleful melody begins to play, filled with lilting, elongated chirps and calls that I recognize immediately. “It’s the siren’s song, the one that jump–started the search for merfolk five years ago,” I conclude.

“Well, not quite,” Peter corrects me. “This was only recorded a few nights ago,” he pauses, giving me a loaded look, “from the hydrophone located on your research trawler.”

I gasp. “The night we captured Wake.”

Peter gives me a solemn nod and brings up a video. “And this was recorded just this morning from inside the Marble.”

He presses play, and the screen comes to life showing a placid scene from the coral garden. Hundreds of tropical fish milling about the reef suddenly freeze in place as strands of the song become audible.

Only seconds later, Wake’s lithe form moves across the screen, just a flash, but as he does, the song gets louder. As soon as he’s gone and his song fades, it’s as if a switch is flipped, and the fish reanimate, continuing on as if they’d never been interrupted.

“It’s the same song,” I say, eyes glued to the screen.

Peter grins. “It’s the exact same song. And not just that,” Peter’s speech quickens with excitement as he lines all three recordings up and presses play at once. They all match, down to the slightest intonation. “We’ve analyzed these recordings backwards and forwards. They’re all Wake.”

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Chapter 19

My throat goes dry, my mind racing as I fight the urge not to be overwhelmed by the possibilities. “Can we really confirm that? It’s not like we have another siren’s vocals on record to compare it to,” I point out.

Peter hesitates, a peculiar look crossing his face for the most fleeting of moments. His expression is clear when he turns back to me. “Porpoises. And whales, of course. From what we’ve been able to get from Wake, their speech patterns aren’t all that different. The interesting thing is that Wake appears to use a combination of echolocation and subaquatic vocalization.”

“Fascinating. But who is he speaking to?” I ask.

Peter shrugs. “That remains the billion–dollar question.”

I sigh. “You wouldn’t happen to have an echotranscriber, would you?” That would be too good to be true since only a handful of the devices were ever made. but the complicated technology would allow them to translate localized bio sonar into written speech.

“Sure, we do,” Peter replies simply.

1 spin to stare at him, jaw agape. “Seriously?”

“Of course. We’re the ones who developed it,” he says.

“Well?” I prompt. “Have you used it to speak with Wake?”

Peter rolls his eyes. “We’ve tried. But our finned frenemy has been frustratingly silent. If he speaks, it’s only to sing that song,” Peter picks up a device roughly the size and shape of a smartwatch and hands it to me. “That’s where you come in. Phoebe, we need you to convince him to change his tune.”

I take the transcriber and strap it onto my wrist, the device fitting snugly. I move to the edge of the viewing platform and kneel, my heart pounding. Like I knew he would, Wake appears just below the surface of the transparent deck, his dark form almost blending into the water. My eyes begin to burn as I sniff back unexpected tears.

“Wake,” I say in greeting, my voice shaky. “I’m really glad to see you. I…I wasn’t sure that I would ever be able to again.”

Wake emerges from the water, just enough for his head and shoulders to break through the surface, coming eye to eye with me. “Pho–ebe.”

Behind me, I hear Peter gasp. Wake’s shark–like gaze snaps to Peter, and he bares his fangs, a growl rumbling from deep in his chest. The growl is accompanied by a low clicking sound that I never would have noticed before, had I not known to listen for signs of echolocation.

Wake’s vocalizations are much deeper than a dolphin’s, but the transcriber around my wrist picks it up all the same: Enemy.

I whip around and glare at Peter. “Try not to move, Peter. Make yourself as small and non–threatening as possible.”

Peter, going pale, lowers himself into a crouch and averts his eyes. Satisfied that Peter won’t accidentally trigger Wake’s predatory instincts, I turn back to Wake and nearly jump out of my skin. He’s moved closer, very close, and he’s watching me with an uncanny intensity. I feel myself flush. “Safe,” I reassure him.

He continues to stare, and the longer he does, the warmer I become. I hurriedly raise the transcriber to give us both something safe to focus on. “Look. I, uh, I don’t really know the best way to explain this, but this device will help us communicate. At least, it will help me understand you a little better…”

I trail off as Wake frowns, looking irritated. Then, he lets out a rumbling series of whistles and clicks. The transcriber vibrates: Socialize.

I let out an excited laugh. “Socialize, yes!” I gesture to my mouth. “Communicate. You are talking to me.”

He gives me a slow, measured blink. “Wake…talk…to Pho–ebe.”

“Yes!” Grinning from ear to ear, I turn to look at Peter to see if he’s witnessing the same miracle I am.

As soon as I look at him, his wide eyes go even wider. I turn back to Wake to find him risen even higher from the water, his full attention on Peter. Wake hisses and the fins lining his forearms flare wide, along with a rigid, frilled collar that I had never witnessed before. It flares out around his head like a

dilophosaurus.

“Holy shit!” Peter’s eyes widen in terror, and I can see the sheer panic in his face.

“Peter, no!” I try to warn him, “Don’t move!”

But it’s too late. He’s already scrambling for a glowing red lever on the far side of the computer console. The air seems to thicken with tension as Wake begins to sing.

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Chapter 19

His song, the one that had mystified the world for years, the one that had changed the trajectory of my life and put all of this into murom, fills the glass sphere. It echoes off the top of the dome, the haunting melody reaching deep into the aquarium’s depths.

I don’t need to look at a wall of cameras to know that all movement in the Marble has come to a stop. My wrist buzzes, and the message there causes my

heart to skip a beat: Mate.

The implications are terrifyingly vast, but right now two things are abundantly clear–Wake is feeling territorial. And we are all in danger.

“Peter!” I call, trying to snap him out of his stupor. “Get to the elevator!”

But like everything else, Peter is frozen in place, ensnared by the siren’s song. His hand hovers over the glowing switch, his blank gaze fisert an Wate