The submarine was nothing special. It was fairly standard and neither Cormac nor Melusine had been expecting something grand like the Nautilus from the film adaptation of "20,000 Leagues Under the Sea" from six years prior. Submarines were submarines and they had very little variety in design. Even midget submarines looked a lot like their larger counterparts as if they had been shrunk in the wash. They did not expect anyone but Henslowe to be in the submarine, filming away at what he saw in his submarine and what he saw, what Cormac and Melusine saw, was simply breathtaking!
It was Pacifica and it was exactly as Melusine had thought it would be! Comely and coruscating and upon seeing it, the two Children of the Deep felt a feeling of calm and paramountcy that could only be described as churchly.
The architecture was vaguely familiar of some cultures of the Surface, such as East Asian and Mesoamerican architecture, and yet at the same time it was completely alien in appearance. Was the East Asian and Mesoamerican look a holdover from Pacifica's time on the surface? Had the more alien look of the architecture been introduced by the Profound Ones? No doubt, Cormac and Melusine would learn more soon enough.
Did Henslowe feel that same churchly feeling that Cormac and Melusine had? Alas, he did not. He was the head of an oil company a polluter and his only goal was to rape the natural world for the sake of profit. From where he sat in his submarine, filming what he saw, he could see people down below. People to be exploited, people to be locked up in aquariums and aquatic parts, people to be forced to perform… No, not people at all… Animals! They were animals and it was Henslowe's God-given mission to save Pacifica from the Pacificans!
To the surprise of Cormac, Melusine and Henslowe in his submarine, a figure came swimming up to the submarine, pale white and with eyes that were completely black. The figure was a Profound One, his head that of a dragonfish. Upon the Profound One's legs were some sort of armour with a deep-sea blue camouflage colouration, upon the right arm was an iron armguard called a manica, the Profound One's left arm was completely made of water and upon their torso was a breastplate, looking less Roman like the manica and more like the lamellar armour used in Ancient China. In the Profound One's right hand was a polearm, a dagger-axe to be precise.
In awe of the figure who had swam up to the submarine, Cormac asked Netaurefenrefen: "Is that Ronemun?"
Nodding, the Moustached-Mermaid answered: "It is, boy, and a better Profound One than many of his ancestors have been."
With wide eyes, Cormac and Melusine both watched as Ronemun stared into the submarine, stared at Henslowe sitting there, filming everything, arrogantly confident that he was untouchable, arrogantly confident that this individual that had swam up to his submarine would be among those spending the remainder of their lives locked up in aquariums and marine parks. People would be frightened of this one initially, but eventually the fear would fade and they would grow used to the pale white skin, the completely black eyes and the dragonfish-head of this creature.
Alas, the fact of the matter was that Henslowe was a fool. Ronemun was a hero descended from a procession of blackguards, both on the Surface and in the Deep, some of the most desperate people in Pacifican history and to some people on the Surface, the Sea King was every bit a desperate blackguard as his ancestors were, not that they had anyway of knowing anything about his genealogy. As far as those sailors and submariners were concerned, Ronemun was nothing more but a monster that came from a long line of monsters… Something that Henslowe should have been aware of. He had come in search of Pacifica and now Ronemun had come to greet him.
And still, Henslowe stared without fear. He was a fool, an old fool of seventy-three years. As far as he was concerned, the world was at his feet and he could do what he wished. He could sympathize with Katanga, an enemy state and get away with it. He could uproot entire communities for oil and get away with it, he could eradicate entire communities for oil and get away with it, he could destroy entire ecosystems with pollution and get away with it and now he could exploit these beasts and get away with it. They were not human therefore they had no rights and as far as Henslowe was concerned, some humans didn't even deserve rights. Women, blacks, Asians, homosexuals, those blasted leftists, Jews, the families descended from the Eoganchta, giving such people rights was a dangerous idea.
Ronemun had no delusions about the sort of man Henslowe was. The old man's very soul was upon his countenance and the Sea King could remember his first attempt to find Pacifica. He had been there, hiding in the darkness of the Deep, his black eyes watching as Henslowe had murdered his wife forty-six years prior. His own men had not even batted an eye. Ronemun had seen many such people in his over two centuries of life and Henslowe was just another.
Holding his dagger-axe aloft, Ronemun appeared within the submarine before Henslowe. Without even batting an eye, the old man reached for his cane, drew forth a sword from it and uttered: "I think you will be better off stuffed."
Suicidal overconfidence… Henslowe truly thought he would be fasted, but when all was over, Ronemun was pulling the blade of his dagger-axe from Henslowe's skull. The Sea King knew the subordinates of these types of men well. When they had found their leader's body, they would simply return to the Surface and bother his kingdom no more. That was how it always was. It was only the leaders who would dare return, not the subordinates and in some ways, Ronemun was thankful. He had grown less bloodthirsty than he had been in his youth.
Holding his dagger-axe aloft once more, Ronemun appeared outside of the submarine. Upon noticing Netaurefenrefen with two individuals not known to him, he swam over to them.
When Cormac saw the Sea King approach, he began to shake. He wasn't sure wherefore. What did he have to be nervous about? He was only about to meet one of the most powerful individuals in the Deep.
"Two new Children of the Storm, Netaurefenrefen?" inquired Ronemun, his voice deep and powerful. "It seems one is related to me."
Nodding, Cormac answered: "Yes, sir. My name is Cormac Egan. I come from Brigid in Ireland."
"Exactly where my father and his brother settled." Ronemun commented with a smile. "The latter would be your grandfather, I believe?"
"Was your father born in 1870 as Ahmed El-Baz?" asked Cormac.
"He was, Cormac." Ronemun answered, placing his watery left hand upon the boy's shoulder. "And he took the name Cormac Egan before his exploration of the Deep took him away from the Emerald Isle and he eventually found himself stepping back in time to meet my mother, the love of his life." Then looking to Melusine, who immediately gave a curtsy, Ronemun asked: "And I see you have a girlfriend. What is her name?"
Both of the redheads blushed, yet still Melusine answered: "Melusine Johns."
Smiling at her, Ronemun said: "I am pleased to meet you, Melusine. Now come, I will bring you to the palace and you can tell us everything about your adventures! You have reached Pacifica, my children! You are home at last!"