Aitch Two Oh

It might have been the dehydration, but Innis wasn’t surprised when a shape swelled out of the ocean.

The protrusion rose above the dingy’s inflated edge. The sunlight sparkled its way through the turquoise, diffracted a thousand different ways. At first, it was nothing but a smooth tendril, rounded and faceless. But as the seconds dripped by, features emerged from that liquid countenance.

A nose. Two eyes. A mouth. Ears too. Locks of curled hair, which cascaded over a shoulder and spilled over a clamshell bra. All that same shade of aquamarine, perfect and beautiful and translucent. The midriff dissolved into gelatinous obscurity and melted into the waves below.

“Behold, tiny human! It is I, your god, Muirgen! Bow down to me, and I shall save you!”

Innis squinted up at the shimmered vision. Her chapped lips cracked and bled in the relentless sun. Blisters bubbled over her skin, red and sore. “You’re not my god,” she said. Matter of fact. “Look nothing like the images in the textbooks.”

Muirgen looked taken aback. A frown crossed that blue brow. “What do you mean, I’m not—” it did air quotations “—your god. How am I not your god? I’ve appeared for you, haven’t I? During your time of need. Isn’t that enough?”

“Well, my god is a bit more… bright lights and halos. A deep booming voice. That sort of thing.”

The spirit adopted a subsonic affectation. “I CAN MAKE MY VOICE BOOM, TOO!” Muirgen’s chest puffed out, like a prizefighter.

Innis twitched. “Not quite the same, though, is it? You’re just putting that on. Helluva show, though.”

Muirgen deflated. “Well, what more do you want?”

Innis shrugged. Difficult to do, with the exhaustion. “Fluffy clouds. A choir of angels. Golden harps. Confusing riddles. That sort of thing. Honestly, have you never read the holy texts?”

The sea spirit gestured to the nebulas above. “I do not make the clouds, but I supply the sky with the necessary resources. Grist for the mill. As for the singing angels, what, I ask you, is a dolphin?”

Innis pulled a face. “An ocean-dwelling mammal.”

“No!” The indignation in Muirgen’s voice was palpable. “Vastly intelligent. Courageous and purely good. With songs to make grown men weep.” The spirit nodded, satisfied. “Angels.”

“If you say so.”

“…as for the harps, they’d corrode out here. The salt air and seawater would do them no good.”

Innis shrugged as if to repeat her If you say so.

“And if it’s a riddle you want…” Muirgen tapped her lip with a finger, deep in thought. Her eyes lit up, sparkled like gems. “I’m the child of water, but when you take me back to the water, I’ll die. What am—”

“Ice,” said Innis without hesitation.

“Humph.” Muirgen folded her liquid arms over her chest. Innis could imagine one watery foot as it tapped against the ocean’s floor. “Well, what now? Don’t you want to be saved, is that it?”

“I’d like very much to be saved. I’ve been out here for — ten? Twenty days?”

“Then why are you arguing with me? Bow down and accept me as your god!”

“You’re not my god.”

“But you’re 60 per cent water! I’m the god of water. By definition, that makes me your god!”

“But I’m not just water. I’ve also got bones and flesh and stuff.”

“Well, go find yourself a god of meat or an osteopathic god and I’ll say knock yourself out. But, for the time being, it’s just me.” The water spirit folded her arms. “Where is this God of yours, anyhow? Shouldn’t he be down here, y’know, saving you?”

Innis squinted up at the clouds. “Up there or so, I’d imagine.”

The spirit craned her neck and followed her line of sight. “Up there? What’s he doing all the way up there? Especially when you’re all the way down here? Bit of a disconnect between you and this god, isn’t there?”

Innis nodded. “Yeah.”

“So, why hold on to your connection to this god?”

“Dunno.”

“Dunno?” Muirgen couldn’t keep the exasperation out of her voice. “Dunno? I’m here offering you a drink of water. I’m here offering you a chance at life! And all you’ve got for me is Dunno?”

Innis shrugged again.

“So, why shouldn’t I just leave you here to die, huh? Why shouldn’t I just go back down to my underwater kingdom? And it is magical, by the way. Wonderful. Marvellous. Why am I wasting my time here with you?”

“I think you need me.”

“Need you?” Muirgen rose further into the air. The sea spirit towered over her. “How on Earth could I possibly need you?”

“Well, you’ve spent all this time talking to me. I figure you’d have buggered off in an instant if you didn’t need me.” She raised her eyebrows at the hallucination. “I take it business isn’t exactly booming out here, hm?”

Muirgen glared.

“See, that’s the thing with the big guy upstairs. You know, the one in the clouds?”

“You’ve mentioned him.” Her words could cut glass.

“He’s got the numbers. You’re just… an indie god, yeah? Beggars can’t be choosers and all that. You’ve got to take all the potential believers you can get. Out here in the middle of the ocean. Not many people come by very often. The ones that do are usually screaming, gripping their aeroplane seats as they spiral in a cloud of black smoke towards the ground. Not much time to bring ‘em aboard before they kick the bucket, ey? Whilst he—” Innis glanced upwards “—can be selective. Pick and choose.”

Muirgen’s shoulders sagged. “You’ve got me there.” She sighed. “So, what will it take to bring you over to my side, hm? If you don’t drink anything any time soon, you’ll die of sun exposure and dehydration. I would’ve thought that would have been enough, but apparently not. So, what can I give you to sweeten the deal?”

“Now that you mention it, I have always dreamed of my own island paradise…”