From the Deep

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Once Andersen had started singing, she simply did not stop. It was as if something had been released from her. Nearly everything she did now warranted a song, as long as somebody was there -- anybody -- to recieve it. It no longer mattered if the whole group was assembled or just one person. She no longer minded the microphone in her tank, and Sara was able to record hours of the music. The emotions she expressed ranged from happiness to boredom, from excitement to sleepiness. It simply did not stop.

And the odd thing was, with this floodgate opened, nobody really discussed the first incident any more. It wasn't like they pretended it didn't exist, it was just that they didn't talk about it, because talking about it would raise questions about it, and raising questions meant giving out answers about it, and giving out answers meant letting the world know. And somehow, it was just fine if the world knew about the rest of the singing. But not about that one time. 

The closest they ever got to mentioning it was in a single report Ian wrote on the discovery, in which he made a reference to "After the first incident."

But that didn't mean he didn't think about it. He spent hours at home, alone except for his pets, staring at the bubbles in his fishtank and thinking about it. 

And he thought he knew why it had been so different. Why Andersen had sung to them when they were all together. Why she had sung that song, the after - eating song, the full and complete and happy song. 

It had been to let them know she was full and complete and happy. To make them feel full and complete and happy, with her.

It was an I am comfortable now song.

It was a I have adjusted and I have finished learning and I understand this place now and I understand all of you song.

It was a You are my people now song.

It was a Thank you song.

It had all been such an intentional show, and she had meant it to be a once in a lifetime thing so that they would appreciate it, and so that they would know what she meant. It didn't matter any more what she was singing into Sara's microphone, because that wasn't bringing people together. It was just showing off. It wasn't for anyone.

But as greatful as Ian was for what she had said to them, there was something that bothered him as he sat for hours puzzling this out. If she had indeed thanked them for helping her and feeding her and being with her, then that meant she was thanking them for capturing her. Andersen had proved to be a hundred times more intelligent than they could have ever guessed, but she clearly had no concept yet of a cage.

If Andersen had been well - known before, she absolutely exploded with famousness now. Sara had, some time ago, created a YouTube channel for her, called The Andersen Project, and on it had posted many clips of the mermaid swimming and eating that had proved very popular at first but slowly died down, as sensations tended to do. But now, as she uploaded videos overlayed with sound from the underwater microphone, the story rose up again. 

The effect was only slightly diminished when the song was recorded and played back later. It was still clear, to everyone around the world, that a song was a sad song or happy song or playful song. Not so many people were driven irresistably to feel the same way, but for the scientists working with Andersen, every day at the lab turned into an emotional roller coaster taken over by the mermaid's whims. 

It became clear that she was doing it intentionally, to communicate with them. One day when Monica went into the lab, she found Andersen lying curled up on the floor of the tank. As she walked across the room, Andersen noticed her, swam up to the glass, and began singing. Immediately Monica felt stabbing hunger pains in her stomach. The song was short, but Andersen stayed up against the glass, huge black eyes watching Monica reproachfully until she caved in and put fish in the tank ahead of feeding schedule.