Advanced Life In Lake Vancouver (1) I was in Vancouver, Whistler with my dad. All around us were vast, snowy mountains and at the foot of the city was a 37-mile long lake. The sky was dark with snow filled clouds and a small, faded disk of sun could just be seen as if it were shining through a translucent sheet with small, opaque blotches. Miniature snow crystals were beginning to spiral from a leak in the bulging clouds, blotting out what was left of the sun. Where bits of dirt showed through on the ski slopes, the newly falling snow was acting as whiteout, making the scenery entirely blank. We were there for a ski race and I had just finished my second run of slalom. The other racers were mingling around the refreshment table. Everyone had a chin guard, screwed into their helmet. The most popular kind came in two pieces; one piece was attached at about your chin level, the other was attached in front of the space between your eyes and your nose. Each piece was made out of a thin strip of metal covered with a transparent fabric that tinted the guard any color you wanted. The second most popular chin guard also came in two pieces of twisted metal that crossed in front of the tip of your nose. The end of each strip was attached at the crest and bottom of your helmet. Where they crossed, they looped around each other and made an intricate knot. This chin guard didn�t come in any colors other than the original pearly metal. I was wearing a single piece, white chin guard that was simply attached in front of my chin. The refreshment table was even more unusual than the chin guards. It was made out of swirling pink and gray granite that grew out of the ground. It was about three inches thick, ten feet long, and four feet wide. A dry spot in a star shape surrounded the refreshments table on the ground. Its five points stretched out, outlined with sugary snow. There wasn�t a single drop of water on the table but the chocolate chip cookies had a layer of powder that froze the chocolate and the pitchers of juice had lips crusted with ice. Out of the corner of my eye, a slight movement caught my eye. One of my teammates from the Snowbird ski team was moving briskly in his bright green ski boots towards the westward pointing tip of the star. He stopped at the tip and immediately his skis appeared in front of him. He clicked them on and skated away down the road and disappeared around the corner. I decided to follow him. I walked to the tip of the star where the boy had just been and dropped my skis into the snow. I put them on and pushed off with my ski poles. As soon as my skis started to pick up speed, they seemed to lift off from the ground. I felt as if I was soaring through the snow. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the amazing sensation. When I opened them again, I looked down and saw my tips floating in and out of the deep powder, carrying me out onto a steep slope that looked out over the lake. The glistening waves lapped lazily against the muddy shore, hollowing out a shallow cove into the bank. My dad�s figure reflected in the water showed him next to a tall object and I saw him standing next to a twisted tree on the shore. I skied quickly down to the road and popped off my skis, leaving them lying in the snow. They stuck out in the blank, snowy background like a male peacock in the midst of a flock of crows. Their red surface seeming to shine even in the absence of the sun. I walked over to my dad and put my arm around him, leaving a curved, wet mark on his back. We stood in silence for a long moment, just looking out over the lake. We watched as the silvery waves danced in unison, the fiery lights of the city dancing on the surface like a skipping stone, reflecting across the 37 miles until they died away at the edge of the little cove at our feet. The snowflakes melted into the watery depths and the leaves of the twisted tree rustled lightly. �Are you ready for the race?� I asked my dad. He had never been a good swimmer and he hated being in the water. I didn�t know how he would manage to swim in the 37-mile race across the lake. Even someone who enjoyed being in the water as much as I did would have a difficult time swimming 37 miles. I remembered the television show I had recently watched while I was still in Salt Lake City before coming to Vancouver. Two scuba divers were dropped off in the ocean, 21 miles from the shore, thinking they were just going for a short swim before their boat picked them up again. However, while they were swimming, the current pulled them farther and farther away from the boat, until it was no longer in sight. They were stranded in the ocean with no idea which way to go. With no other choice, they started swimming with the current. The current helped them swim faster, but it began pulling them apart and they both knew that they didn�t have much of a chance of surviving by themselves so far out in the ocean. The only solution to this problem was to hold onto each other, which made the swimming very difficult. Finally, after about 36 hours of being out in the ocean, they spotted land, but it was not what they had been hoping for. Jagged rocks blocked the way to the shore. There was no way to get through them, so they had to continue to stay out in the ocean. During that night, one of the divers saw a dorsal fin. Soon the shark was right next to them, an arms width away. They thought for sure that the shark had just found its next meal when it swam away, leaving them alive. In the morning, a boat just happened to be driving by and the divers were rescued at last. I found myself wondering if this race was a good idea. After all, if those two people barely survived the 21-mile swim in the ocean, how would my dad and I survive the 37-mile swim in this lake in the middle of the winter? I was also worried about the idea of sharks. I knew they didn�t live in freshwater lakes, only in salt water like the ocean, but this didn�t seem like an ordinary city so far. There was a very large possibility that sharks had found a way to survive in this lake. It had finally stopped snowing but the temperature had probably dropped about 8 degrees and a thick layer of fog had settled over the lake. The scenery looked like something that would come out of a storybook that begins: It was a dark and stormy night... The only difference was that I could see a clear sky above me that was scattered with stars and a thick crescent moon sent its silvery rays down to try and penetrate the fog that now covered the lake like a thick layer of dull gray frosting. Looking down at my watch, I saw that it was 11:15 PM. The race was scheduled to start in 45 minutes and people were already starting to filter into the area next to the twisted tree where my dad and I had been standing and where the race was going to start. The first person to show up was a large man of about 6 feet and 7 inches who had black hair with flecks of silver that showed he was probably about 50 years old. He was wearing black dress pants and coat with a white shirt underneath, partially hidden by a thick turquoise tie decorated with a pattern that rippled as the tie moved and a miniature dorsal fin that moved around in circles as it chased a desperate rainbow trout. He carried in one hand a speakerphone and in the other he held a crudely written script that told him exactly what he would say and what questions the racers would ask. I quickly identified this man as the race announcer. 11:57 The race was about to begin and all of the racers were crowded around the announcer who was now sitting cross-legged while levitating 3 feet above the ground. He began to speak. �We gather here today to celebrate each of you as athletes and competitors. The race that will take place at midnight has never before been attempted...� He droned on and on in his monotone, sandpaper voice. He didn�t seem very excited about the race and he also sounded grumpy from having to be awake so late. His eyes seemed to be glued to the paper in front of his face and he seemed to be reading it word for word. When he got to the end of his speech where he asked if there were any questions, he answered himself. �Do any of you have any question? Are there sharks? I have no idea. As I said before, the race has never been attempted before and no one has ever swam in the lake before either.� He was talking very quickly now, �Are there any more questions? No? Okay, let the race begin!� He sounded an abrupt siren from his speaker phone that was obviously supposed to mean that the race had begun, but everyone was so shocked by the sudden beginning of the race, that for several moments we stood there just looking around, confused. Finally a girl from the Sun Valley ski team dove in the water and started swimming freestyle. That brought every one out of their trance and the scene was chaotic as 149 people all tried to jump into the water at once. The excitement calmed down as everyone began concentrating on the race and the only noises were that of the waves and of the racers swimming. The crowd also thinned out quickly and my dad and I were left at the rear of the pack with only about 5 people struggling behind us. We were swimming breaststroke, because it is the easiest stroke to do and you can keep up a fast pace longer than other strokes. It was surprisingly relaxing being in the water and all my fears of sharks disappeared. The water was even a comfortable temperature of about 78 degrees Fahrenheit and the fog kept all of the remaining warmth from the air trapped on the surface of the water. Suddenly a small, gray, pointed fin appeared in the water to my left. I took a sharp intake of breath as it came closer. A second one appeared to the right of my dad. They were closing in on us and just seconds later I saw my dad�s head disappear beneath the surface. The shark had grabbed him by the ankle and pulled him beneath the surface. The other shark did the same thing to me and I took a deep breath before being dragged underneath the water. I was never able to force my eyes open to see the progress of our short descent, but I could feel slippery underwater plants (mostly algae I thought) wrap around my wrists and brush against my face and neck. The sharks were probably only dragging us through the depths of the lake for about 15 seconds but it felt like hours. The fact that I still felt like we were moving could have been a factor in this sensation but the terrifying emotions surging through me were definitely the largest contributors. I felt the shark release his strong grip on me and I heard my dad stumble over to me and take in a deep breath that he let out as a sigh laced with confusion and relief. My eyelids felt like lead and my head throbbed in beat with my pulse. When I finally forced my eyes open and looked around, I gasped in amazement. I was standing at the entrance of an underwater city and it was covered with a giant bubble that made it possible for us to breathe. 1/4 end The city was probably about the size of a large neighborhood and was the shape of a full moon whose rays of light stretched out in all directions. At the center, a tall tower reached towards the surface of the lake and held up the tip of the bubble with its neon orange, cone shaped roof. A ball of light rested delicately on the surface of the bubble, acting as the city�s sun since the lake was so deep that the real sun�s rays could not penetrate the navy blue waters. Frosting the walls of the tower, shiny green scales shimmered with the reflecting light of the fake sun. Beneath the scales I could see a layer of aqua blue paint coating walls made of coral. Thin needle fish floated lazily in and out of the miniature holes in the coral walls and sea horses, averaging 2 inches tall, raced each other around the city. All of the other buildings looked exactly the same, adobe homes made out of a smooth, tan material, except for 12 that made up the rays of the full moon. These 12 buildings towered far above the adobe homes but were shorter than the main tower. Each had its own exotic color and texture. On the walls of each building was a life-sized Mural of some kind of sport. The type of sport was divided into pairs among the buildings. For example: two buildings had a swimmer, racing freestyle in place on the walls. Another two buildings had a soccer player kicking the ball into an imaginary goal. Four other sports, ski racing (cross-country and alpine, morphed into one), lacrosse, basketball, and football, were distributed among the other eight buildings. The city seemed relatively empty other than about a dozen citizens who were milling around, some carrying groceries or loaves of bread, others talking to the miniature sea horses. One man caught my attention. He was riding swiftly towards the main tower on a huge sea horse. It was probably about 11/2 meters tall, from the tip of his curved tail to the crest of his rounded head. His body was covered in gleaming, fluorescent red scales. He looked like a knight decked with armor and his long, slender nose resembled a short sword. Black, chalky circles masked his amber eyes and an elegant silver feather bowed over the back of his arched neck. The rider of the sea horse did not have the royal appearance of his �horse.� He looked more like a humorous king�s joker. If he had gotten off of his horse and stood as tall as he could, he would have come up to three inches above my head. I measured about 5 feet 4 inches so he was below the average male height. He held his chin high up in the air and rolled his eyes forward in order to see the ground. He looked like he was trying to see his nose and smell air at once, but he was likely trying to make up for his lack of height. His neon attire was the strangest ensemble I had ever seen. Yellow leather boots stretched up his calves, joining with fiery orange tights. Green �balloon� shorts enveloped his thighs and a studded, red belt snaked around his waist causing his rainbow poncho to flare out like a two-two over his horse�s haunches. All of this was topped off by a vibrant, pink sombrero. At last I peeled my eyes off the man and his sea horse as they disappeared into the tower�s courtyard. As I looked around, I noticed two guards standing behind my dad and I. They looked strangely familiar, with their sleek bald heads and pointed white teeth. (I found out later that they transformed into their true shark forms as soon as they left the oxygen filled bubble.) They introduced themselves as Bruce and Ralph before gripping us by our forearms and dragging us briskly up the street and into the open gates of the courtyard. Seaweed and coral flowers grew up from the moist sand that layered the uneven grounds of the courtyard. Small, copper benches were scattered at random along the edges of the gate, their legs turning blue-green from resting in the wet soil. Blossoming cherry trees, sprouted near each bench, dowsing the sunny seats with cool shade. The sea horse whom I had witnessed earlier was grazing near the base of a thick cottonwood (the only one in the area). He raised his eyes slightly in our direction as we walked passed him. Our presence didn�t appear to bother him so he looked down again and continued munching on the lush green grass. Bruce and Ralph shoved us through the back gates of the courtyard, into a narrow labyrinth. Dim oil lanterns lined the dark, cold walls, revealing six different paths that winded off in all directions. The guards didn�t even hesitate before prodding us down the path directly to our left. Next we came upon five possible paths and the guards lead us down the center. We continued in this fashion for hours and turned down so many paths, I lost track of how many turns we made and which direction we had come from. Finally we reached a spot in the labyrinth where the path we were on morphed into a circle. It was a dead end. When I turned around to go back down the path we had come from, thinking we had taken a wrong turn, the opening had disappeared. Solid gray brick walls seemed to laugh at us, taunting us, causing us to spin around in circles, looking for the lost passage way. The sharks had disappeared and the lanterns had gone out. My dad and I were alone in a world of darkness. Though we were in a small room, adrenaline rushed through my veins as if I were stranded in the middle of a vast forest, the last living animal in the world. Suddenly frantic, I groped in the darkness searching for the comforting touch of my dad�s warm skin. �Dad?� �I�m right here.� His voice was tight with worry, straining against the cloud of darkness that was pushing us down, forcing us to lay on our backs, our shoulders flattened against the cold floor, our eyes wide and our mouths sealed shut. I felt like a cockroach with a large boot being pressed against me, increasing its intensity with each passing second. Suddenly a wide chasm, shining as bright as the sun, appeared in the ceiling above our open eyes. An unknown, oozing creature was pulling itself out of the gap, its lumpy fingers resembled large stalks of cauliflower. Its entire mass was white, albino. The light aggrandized its bloodshot eyes. A scream began to force its way out of my dry throat then stopped abruptly as the monster�s form flashed through different shapes and animals. It was a chocolate lab, a crescent moon, a tree. The last shape I saw before the oozing animal disappeared was the same sea horse I had seen galloping with his humorous rider and grazing in the courtyard that led to the labyrinth. The room was dark again but the invisible force had gone and I sat up, my heart pounding in my chest, threatening to break free. I leaned back against the curved wall and closed my eyes and immediately opened them again when the cauliflower shape � shifter loomed against the backs of my eyelids. It would haunt my dreams for many weeks to come. I felt the wall at my back begin to move, becoming flat along with the rest of the room, completing a large square. A screen like a television shone out of focus against the wall opposite the one I was resting against. Near the bottom, a bright pink sombrero was moving around, bobbing up and down across the screen. Next a face was visible, then a rainbow poncho, followed by neon green shorts and leather boots. I recognized the man immediately. He was sitting in a dull gray throne with his feet up on a dull gray desk cluttered with dull gray papers and picture books. The whole room was made up of dull gray furniture and the walls, tile floor, and ceiling were painted with a matching coat of dull gray paint. Bruce was standing in front of the man, pointing at my dad and I through the screen and motioning with his hands as he talked. �I have brought them, Your Majesty. They are in the trap room of the labyrinth.� Pleasure rang in his accented voice. �Good. Turn on the screen so I may talk to them.� Bruce walked out of view of the screen and back to the colorful man�s feet. �It is already on, Your Majesty.� �Oh. Then get out of my way so I can have a clear view of them.� Bruce stepped to the side of his apparent master where only half of his figure was visible. The other man scooted his wheeled throne forward so that he was situated close in front of the screen and his gray � green eyes were staring straight at my dad and I. He spoke in his high, rasping voice with the same accent as Bruce. �Hello, I am King Charles of Lake Vancouver. I am pleased to make your acquaintance,� He spoke in a voice that someone who thought they ruled the world would use. �Don�t try to talk to me,� He commanded as he saw me open my mouth to ask what he wanted. �I won�t be able to hear you. Anyway, I know what you were going to ask me; why you were brought here. What do I want from two ordinary people? Listen and I will tell you. You were brought here to go on a quest for me. You will bring me ten competitors from the race you were participating in earlier today. Make sure that you bring them in pairs according to their weakest sport. There must five different sports; soccer, swimming, skiing (one cross-country, one alpine), lacrosse, basketball, and football. Yes, I know I mentioned six different sports. This is because, both of you will also be used for my . . . experiment. Since your weakest sports are swimming for the father and football the girl, you will only need to find one other person for each event. We will send you with a list of the people I want you to find in exactly one weeks time from tomorrow. In the meantime, my servants will be researching where you can find each individual person. You will not need to fly by plane or drive. I have a special transportation device you can use to get to each place. Now, I am sure you are both wondering why I want you to bring these people to me. What experiment? You will find out soon enough what the experiment is. I want to test it, because if it is successful, I will become very wealthy and powerful. I will now send Bruce to escort you to your rooms where you will be staying until the quest begins. Until then�� The screen slowly faded away and the square room became circular once again. The lanterns had magically been lit and they cast gloomy shadows across the floor. It was little better than being left in complete darkness. This didn�t bother me much though. I was too curious about what King Charles had said. What experiment was he going to conduct once we had brought him the ten people? What was the transportation device of which he spoke? Where were we going to be kept until the week had past? Would we be treated as wild animals or as honored guests? Questions flooded my mind, drowning out any thoughts of fear, blotting out my surroundings. � end Almost immediately after the screen had turned off, a chasm opened again in the ceiling, but no monsters oozed out and the only light came from more oil lanterns in the narrow channel above. Bruce was standing at the edge of the hole, looking down on us as if we were the most insignificant beings in the entire world. He smirked at us as he began to lower a rickety, wooden ladder into our spherical room. I was nervous to climb the ladder out of the room. Bruce's facial expressions and the moans emanating from the contraption were enough to intimidate any twelve year old girl. I told my dad to go first but he insisted on standing at the bottom to catch me in case the ladder fell apart while I was climbing. It turned out there was nothing to be afraid of and when we got to the top, Bruce pulled out a steaming loaf of bread and some gouda cheese and told us we would stop there for a moment and eat before the bread became cold. When we finished eating the delicious bread, Bruce took us to our separate rooms. They were on opposite ends of a short hall and we were told we could visit each other whenever we wanted as long as we stayed in our rooms past 10:00 PM. Each room had a private bathroom with a large shower with walls made of quartz and a comfortable queen sized bed lounged in the center of the room. We stopped by my dad's room first and he said he would stop by my room later to make sure I was doing all right. Bruce then escorted me to my room, number 43. As I entered the room, a breathtaking view struck me like a football player had suddenly slammed into me. I stumbled backwards a crashed into Bruce who let out a grunt of surprise as he thudded to the ground with me on top of him. The expression on his face made me laugh out loud and as if the sound had scared him, he hopped to his feet and sprinted out of my room, slamming the door shut behind him. Once again I looked forward, this time managing to stay on my feet. The entire wall in front of me was constructed from a paper thin layer of transparent diamond. Opaque opals shimmered in the top right corner of the window. Through the diamond pane, I saw a field brimming with brilliant columbines. Each was a different shade of yellow, purple, blue, red, or orange and the tallest columbine that stood directly below my window. This columbine was white. It held itself like a magnificent swan, arching its long green neck and spreading its broad petals as if it were opening its wings, ready to soar with the wind. The light breeze outside ruffled the flower's petals causing an illusion that looked like a kaleidoscope. I peeled my eyes off of the entrancing flower and looked up to find a vast mountain range. Snowy peaks wheedled my thoughts to a steep slope, sprinkled with a thick layer of untouched powder. My twin tips raced through the fluffy snow. Delicate crystals flew into my face, fogging my goggles, giving me a frosty mustache. I sighed with content as I was pulled out of my day dream, back into reality. Dark gray storm clouds, bulging with stellar dendrites, loomed over the tallest peak. The summit was veiled out of view. Brightly colored butterflies flitted past my window, flying quickly to the safety of the tower's eaves. Mini sea horses twirled in the open meadow, catching flakes in their open mouths. One lime green sea horse was catching moist crystals in his mouth right in front of my window. I saw his scrunched snout open about the width of a thimble and his small pink tongue catch a snowflake as wide as his mouth. HIs head trembled with delight and his spiraled tail shivered with the cold. Flat, white teeth about the size of 1/4 my thumb nail lined the inside of his jaw. I came to love this sea horse and when the time came that I had to leave on my quest, he followed, invisible to the world as he floated in a bubble. My dad came to my room at around 7:30 PM that night. I jumped as his light knock echoed around my room. I opened the door and saw the same emotions I had experienced when I first walked in the room flash across his face but he handled it much better. "You have a spectacular view!" "I know. I fell over backwards into Bruce when I saw it." My following laugh had little humor. It felt like years since I had seen my dad instead of a few hours. He looked tired and confused. I felt sympathy for him, knowing how the past events of the day had rubbed off on me like walking through a mile long briar patch. My dad's eyes seemed to mirror mine, dark pools of exhaustion. I really hadn't felt tired until he walked into the room. I wasn't even scared or worried. No unwanted emotions raced through my head. I was just a little hungry but satisfied with the way certain events were playing out, especially the meeting with the small sea horse. All thoughts of the quest we would be sent on had been erased from my memory. Seeing my dad had brought them racing back like a hive of angry bees. "What do you think of the quest?" I asked him. "I don't know. They way the king explained it to us, it seems like he is going to use us to take over the world and then kill us when he no longer has a use for us." My dad's voice was laced with his usual sarcasm. "That's what I thought too," I said as a loud knock echoed through my room. Bruce walked in, accompanied by Ralph. Their faces were red and broad grins stretched across their faces as if they had recently shared a joke. "It's time for dinner." The dining hall was an extravagant room with one long table that stretched the length of the entire hall. Two hundred chairs lined each side of the table except for the head and foot. King Charles' throne boasted the most colorful, high, piece of furniture and was situated at the head of the table. Three cushioned seats lounged at the foot of the table and were reserved for the King's most honored guests. In this occasion, those guests were my dad and I. I sat on the left and my dad sat on the left. In between us hovered the small seahorse who had been playing outside of my window earlier that day. The plaque in front of his chair showed that his name was sparky. The clang of a fork on a glass goblet bounced around the room as KIng Charles made a very unexpected, short announcement in a child-like voice. "Bring in the food!" Men, women, and sea horses rushed through invisible doors from all around the room. There was one personal waiter for every one. The overgrown sea horse I had seen King Charles riding in his neon attire was mine. He carried a dish of dumplings and bread, balanced on his long nose. The flavors of basil along with other herbs, potatoes, and noodles mixed to create a unique and delicious appetizer. The bread was soft and even more wonderful than our quick lunch with Bruce. Small lumps of cheese fondu were weaved in the warm dough. Next came the main meal. The food decorated the plate in a firework pattern. Six-cheese macaroni made with shell noodles created the center of the firework and fresh, grilled King Salmon cut into thin, flaky strips curved around the macaroni as the sparks of the firework. An ornate crab cake sprinkled with poppy seeds sat delicately on top of the macaroni. I almost didn't want to eat it, since the design was so beautiful, but the moment I put a sliver of salmon in my mouth, my taste buds leaped with joy and asked for more. Finally the dessert was brought out. Of course I was expecting some fancy dish that was more delicious than anything I had ever tasted before. This was not what the sea horse carried out. A small, 1-inch squared lump of gooey, green, unknown combination sat in the center of a white china bowl. Everyone except my dad and I gasped in delight as they saw the strange dessert being brought in. They dug in their spoons as if they were eating a New York cheesecake topped with fresh raspberries and shaved white chocolate. Curious, I uneasily picked up my spoon and scooped out a delicate piece of the lumpy square. I brought it up to my mouth and, before I could change my mind, quickly put it onto my tongue. I don't know how to describe it other than different. It was salty, sweet, bitter, sour; every flavor at once. I tasted a strawberry pie, a salty, warm pretzel, melted dark chocolate, just ripe granny apples. Every flavor flashed across my tongue. Every dessert that had ever been invented was crammed into my taste buds. I hesitantly took another bite as the last of the first bite slowly died away. I saw a calming beach, a warm campfire. I was looking down from the top of a GS course as the raging wind thrashed through the gates. A hundred images sped across my imagination. The sensation of the green lump was entrancing. I felt myself being pulled into another world that belonged only to me. It was addicting. I found myself craving more and more until the unusual dessert had disappeared from my plate along with the craving, though I knew I would react as the others in the room had the next time I was introduced to the dish. My dad, however, did not have the same reaction to the wonderful dessert as I had. I saw him wrinkle his nose in disgust and dump it into a napkin to throw away later when the king wasn't watching him. He drained his glass of water and called on his waiter � a stout man of about 35 - for another. I was deeply confused and wondered if there was something wrong with him. As far as I could see, he and Sparky were the only two animals in the entire dining hall who did not have a strong appreciation for the dessert. After dinner, King Charles excused all in attendance to retire to their rooms. I walked with my dad in silence until we reached his room where he said, 'good night' and left me alone until the next morning. When I got to my room, I found myself exhausted as I was when my dad had visited at 7:30. I fell onto my wonderful, feathery mattress and pulled off my shoes. I swung my legs under the blankets and rested my heavy head on the goose-down pillows. My eyes closed and I immediately fell into a deep sleep, undisturbed by dreams. The next day was somewhat uneventful. After a breakfast of warm, sourdough roles with fresh butter and wildflower honey, I walked out into the courtyard. The large seahorse was grazing beneath the cottonwood tree again. He glanced up at me as I strolled by. His large eyes were filled with lazy thoughts of the warm sun and fresh greens. He drifted out of the shade of the tree and came up to me, gently nuzzling my hand. The seahorse followed me as I walked to a near-by bench and ate the leafy plants at my feet. Every minute, he gazed shyly at me and rubbed against my shins. He seemed to be prodding my thoughts, trying to find his way into my head. "My name is Pegs." A willowy voice flowed through my head, ringing in my ears. "Can you hear me?" He queried in a voice thickly laced with hope. I whispered a barely audible response, "Yes." Pegs seemed to cheer up a bit and he spoke with more enthusiasm in his voice. "Good, because I get very lonely without anyone to talk to. I haven't talked to any humans before, only to the other sea-horses and most of them won't talk to me. I don't really know why. It's probably because they're jealous that I got chosen to be the King's horse. It's considered a great honor. Sorry, I tend to talk a lot when I haven't talked to anyone in over a week. Well, I guess it could have been a month. I lost track of time after the first two days." "Can all sea-horses talk?" "Not the way you think of and technically I'm not really talking to you either. We're talking with each other through our minds, kind of like telepathy. No, not all sea-horses can speak to humans. Even I can't talk to all humans. You're the only one." "Why can you only talk to me? Does this mean I can talk to other sea-horses too? LIke Sparky?" I was becoming very excited. I had always wanted to talk to animals before, but I had never even dreamed of it happening, especially not to an overgrown seahorse. "The answer to your first question is, again, I don't know. You should be able to talk to some other sea-horses but only if they want to talk to you. You can't start a conversation on your own. And for your last question, I can tell Sparky that you want to talk to him. He's one of my only friends so he probably won't mind starting a conversation with you. If I don't see him today though, you can tell him out loud that you want to talk to him and, if he's paying attention, he will most likely acknowledge your request." "This is awesome! How did you know you could talk to me if you couldn't talk to any other humans?"" I looked up as I found myself staring into my upturned palms. Pegs had disappeared. I sighed as I pushed myself off of the bench. It couldn't have happened in my imagination, so where had he gone so quickly? I strongly hoped that I had not unintentionally offended him or changed his mind about wanting to talk to humans. A throbbing headache was building in my head as my brain relentlessly worked through the recent events. My stomach gurgled hungrily causing me to look down at my watch. 3:30! Time had flown, catching a ride in the current outside of the bubble that surrounded the city. It seemed like 15 minutes previous that I had been sitting at the vast table in the dining hall, eating steaming rolls and honey, but that had been at 8:30 AM. Pushing myself off the bench, I dashed inside the gates that lead to the inner tower. First I went to my dad's room, but when I knocked, no one came to the door, so I went to the dining hall. I peered through the heavy doors and saw the table crowded with people. My dad was sitting at the end of the table where we sat the night before. He caught my eye and beckoned for me to go eat lunch. I sat down on the cushioned chair adjacent my dad's and helped myself to some lemonade. A large christmas ham sat on a decorated plate in front of me. I took a huge fork full of the crispy meat and shoveled some mashed potatoes onto my plate. I took a hot roll from a picnic basket and began my gorging. I gulped down my lemonade which was ice cold and fresh squeezed with a little bit of peach and blackberry flavoring mixed into the tangy liquid. Next, creamy mashed potatoes were sliding down my throat, their salt and pepper flavors skidding across my tongue. I paused momentarily and made my usual sandwich when similar food was served: a clump of mashed potatoes layered on the roll, blanketed by a thick chunk of ham, topped with another clump of mashed potatoes and finally closed with the roof of the roll. Once this sandwich was made, I took large bites from the delicious substance until the last of the creamy, crispy, sweet and salty flavors had subsided on my joyful taste buds. Finishing my lunch, I leaned back in my seat, comfortable and content. I leaned my head on my dad's shoulder and as I was about to dose off, another course was set on the table. This time the dessert was more normal than the last one, although the cakes themselves were far from normal in their intricate frostings, textures, and shapes. One cake, a lemon pound cake with sour lemon icing, was in the shape of a snow leopard's head. Holes in the cake marked the eyes and blackberries indicated the dappled fur. Frosting traced the whiskers and formed the leopard's nose. Another cake, a New York cheesecake, had a fashionable simplicity that the other lacked. It was rounded with graceful indentations marked evenly around the edges. The smooth, snow white body sat in the palms of a moist gram cracker crust. Splendid cup-shaped raspberries outlined the top edge of the cake, placed tightly together, so that there was not a dot of white peaking through the red sea. In the center of the cake, a strand of shaved white chocolate rested delicately on the cheesecake's surface like a fragile queen guarded by her loyal servants. I took a slice of each cake and though I was regretful at first to ruin the designs, each bite of each slice of cake was well worth their destruction. Six days had gone by since my dad and I had arrived at the underwater city at the bottom of Lake Vancouver. Already the day was passing, taking with it the easy, carefree life the past days had carried. Thoughts of the upcoming quest pushed to the surface of my mind like an unwanted burden. Soon, my dad and I would be sent on our way to retrieve the requested ten people. And for what purpose? So they could be used as test subjects for the benefit of a greedy king.
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