Read Online Ocean: The Sea Warriors by Brian Herbert, Jan Herbert - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Brian Herbert, Jan Herbert
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day what he knew about the ocean, he just looked at her vacantly, as if he didn’t realize that life on the land depended on the sea. He often looked at her that way when she spoke to him. With her he had a certain coldness about him, an aloof demeanor he didn’t use with her siblings, or with her mother. It always made her feel odd, even stupid.
The teenager’s already-tenuous relationship with her parents and siblings had gone even more downhill after she went in the water by Portsmouth, and tried to swim out to sea, attempting to immerse herself in the ocean water and learn more about it and the creatures who lived in it, to help the aquatic ecosystem in some way. But she’d been unable to explain her reasoning, had totally failed when she tried to unravel her complex thoughts and emotions to justify her actions, and she’d ended up here, in this dreaded facility. This prison .
Gwyneth harbored a great deal of resentment over that, and over the fact that she had not seen or heard from her parents for the better part of a year.
Her mother was stout and severe, looking dour today, her thick black eyebrows forming scowls over her eyes. Katie McDevitt had never been as interested in the outdoors as Gwyneth’s father, and had always scolded him for spoiling the children. Not as much of a scholar as her husband, she was always complaining about people she knew—neighbors, shopkeepers, anyone, it seemed that she happened to encounter outside the house.
Too angry to look at her parents any longer, she turned away and tried to reconnect her thoughts with the sea, which was making a welcome appearance as the fog dispersed. She saw sections of water now, dark blue and mysterious through the gray mists.
“We don’t know what these Sea Warriors are all about or how your name got on a list,” her mother said, her presence and words intruding, just as the doctor had done earlier. “But joining them is completely impossible.”
Abruptly, Gwyneth spoke slowly but clearly, as she could on occasion. “Then why did you come here?”
“To tell you about the existence of the list, and the letter, and to try to explain to you why it is all out of the question.”
“I wish you’d never told me about it, then,” she said. “Now get out and don’t come back!”
In the depths of her mind, Gwyneth heard a terrible sound, and she sensed that it was a large gathering of sea creatures just offshore, numerous species crying out to her for help. She had never heard such horrendous, spine-jolting screeches before, but knew instantly—and for a certainty—what they were.
I can do nothing to help you , she thought.
For several awful minutes the sounds grew louder in her consciousness, hurting her head, and finally they faded away—giving her physical, but not emotional, relief.
Peripherally, Gwyneth saw her mother backing up, and heard her whispering to the girl’s father. Then she said to Gwyneth, “Very well, dear, we’ll leave you here to get better.”
As if in a strange dream, a disconnected reality, her parents came toward her and kissed her on the forehead, her father first and her mother last. But he said nothing, just looked at her in an odd way, reflecting on his lack of understanding of her, and his lack of compassion.
They took the letter from the windowsill, even though Gwyneth had not read it yet. She heard them walking toward the open doorway, going through and shutting the door behind them. It made the familiar locking noises, ominous metal clicks that Gwyneth did not like.
She could envision herself growing old and decrepit in here, never meeting the qualifications for release. The complex feelings associated with that realization swam in her mind, like piranhas eating away at any positive thoughts that tried to surface, making her feel dismal.
And she sensed something else out at sea, special people who wanted to see her. The Sea Warriors.
Gwyneth remembered the unfocused one-page letter she had
The teenager’s already-tenuous relationship with her parents and siblings had gone even more downhill after she went in the water by Portsmouth, and tried to swim out to sea, attempting to immerse herself in the ocean water and learn more about it and the creatures who lived in it, to help the aquatic ecosystem in some way. But she’d been unable to explain her reasoning, had totally failed when she tried to unravel her complex thoughts and emotions to justify her actions, and she’d ended up here, in this dreaded facility. This prison .
Gwyneth harbored a great deal of resentment over that, and over the fact that she had not seen or heard from her parents for the better part of a year.
Her mother was stout and severe, looking dour today, her thick black eyebrows forming scowls over her eyes. Katie McDevitt had never been as interested in the outdoors as Gwyneth’s father, and had always scolded him for spoiling the children. Not as much of a scholar as her husband, she was always complaining about people she knew—neighbors, shopkeepers, anyone, it seemed that she happened to encounter outside the house.
Too angry to look at her parents any longer, she turned away and tried to reconnect her thoughts with the sea, which was making a welcome appearance as the fog dispersed. She saw sections of water now, dark blue and mysterious through the gray mists.
“We don’t know what these Sea Warriors are all about or how your name got on a list,” her mother said, her presence and words intruding, just as the doctor had done earlier. “But joining them is completely impossible.”
Abruptly, Gwyneth spoke slowly but clearly, as she could on occasion. “Then why did you come here?”
“To tell you about the existence of the list, and the letter, and to try to explain to you why it is all out of the question.”
“I wish you’d never told me about it, then,” she said. “Now get out and don’t come back!”
In the depths of her mind, Gwyneth heard a terrible sound, and she sensed that it was a large gathering of sea creatures just offshore, numerous species crying out to her for help. She had never heard such horrendous, spine-jolting screeches before, but knew instantly—and for a certainty—what they were.
I can do nothing to help you , she thought.
For several awful minutes the sounds grew louder in her consciousness, hurting her head, and finally they faded away—giving her physical, but not emotional, relief.
Peripherally, Gwyneth saw her mother backing up, and heard her whispering to the girl’s father. Then she said to Gwyneth, “Very well, dear, we’ll leave you here to get better.”
As if in a strange dream, a disconnected reality, her parents came toward her and kissed her on the forehead, her father first and her mother last. But he said nothing, just looked at her in an odd way, reflecting on his lack of understanding of her, and his lack of compassion.
They took the letter from the windowsill, even though Gwyneth had not read it yet. She heard them walking toward the open doorway, going through and shutting the door behind them. It made the familiar locking noises, ominous metal clicks that Gwyneth did not like.
She could envision herself growing old and decrepit in here, never meeting the qualifications for release. The complex feelings associated with that realization swam in her mind, like piranhas eating away at any positive thoughts that tried to surface, making her feel dismal.
And she sensed something else out at sea, special people who wanted to see her. The Sea Warriors.
Gwyneth remembered the unfocused one-page letter she had
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