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Carrying the Torch
A Guest Quarters story
By
David E. Hughes

Carl sat on locker room bench, too depressed to think about how tired he was. One and eight tenths, he thought. He'd never qualify for the Olympics finishing in fifth place, almost two full seconds behind Matt Thompson. Carl had been training his ass off, watching his diet, doing everything coach Anders said, but it hadn't paid off. With only one more qualifying meet left, it would take a miracle for Carl to fulfill his dream of making the USA Olympic Swim Team and taking home a gold medal.

 "You look more like a drowned rat than a swimmer," said a voice from the locker room doorway.

Carl jumped. He didn't think anyone else would be at the pool this late. He was hoping to leave without running into anybody so he wouldn't have to hear people's words of encouragement, which were no more than the statement "sucks to be you" phrased in a kinder, gentler way.

The man in the doorway wore a black leather jacket, motorcycle boots, and a blue bandana on his head. He was thin with a good swimmer's body, but he was obviously not a competitor. He looked about forty, and Carl guessed he was ten to fifteen pounds over competition weight. He had a dark scruff of stubble on his cheeks, and a grim smile that reminded Carl of a military man, or perhaps a butcher.

"Who are you?" asked Carl.

"Leo Walden."

Shock ran through Carl like he was diving into a cold outdoor pool. Walden? The mysterious coach of Frankie Meeks? In the 2004 Olympics, Meeks had come out of nowhere to win the 100- and 200-meter breast. He'd had a stroke like no one had other seen before?or since. Meeks had credited his coach for the victories, but Leo Walden was a mystery man. He refused interviews, even refused to have his picture taken. So what the hell was Walden doing here?

Carl stood. "Mr. Walden. Were you looking for someone? I'm afraid everyone else has gone."

"I was looking for you."

Carl felt a shiver run through him. Was it possible he was finally going to catch a break? It seemed almost too good to be true. "Why me?"

Walden walked farther into the locker room. "I watched you out there, Carl. I think you've got the stuff. You have great muscle tone, a good body shape for the water, and buckets of drive. But your stroke is a disaster. Who's your coach? Sam Anders?"

Carl nodded, hardly believing what he was hearing.

"Anders is a great guy, but he's old school. You not going to win shit swimming like he did in the sixties."

"You want to coach me?" said Carl.

Walden crossed his arms and smirked. "You catch on quick, fishboy. You interested?"

"Interested!" said Carl. "I'd be eternally grateful." Carl knew he sounded a little desperate, but the truth was he was a lot desperate.

"Good," said Walden. "Here are my terms. I charge a twenty thousand dollars flat fee, plus ten percent of your royalties for life. You can?"

"Twenty thousand! There's no way I can pay that."

"Hear me out. You can defer payment until after the Olympics. I waive the fee if you don't medal."

Waive the fee? Carl had never heard of any coach doing that. Of course, he'd never heard of a twenty grand fee plus royalties, either.

"But here's the most important part. Everything about my coaching technique must remain strictly confidential. You can't tell anyone about anything. Not how I coached you, not where I did my coaching, and nothing about my assistant. Sound fair?"

Carl frowned. He wanted to win bad, but he wasn't going down the path of no return. Some people called him a boy scout for refusing to consider performance enhancers, but the fact was he was scared of the stuff. He'd had a few friends that had really messed themselves up trying to get an edge. "I don't do steroids or doping."

"I know. If you did, we wouldn't be having this talk." Walden yanked a stack of papers from his jacket. "This is the contract and confidentiality agreement. Sign it, get it notarized, and bring it to the address you see on the envelope tomorrow at 10. We start right away."

Carl took the papers. "I'll do it. Thank you so much!"

Walden made a zipping motion across his lips. "Remember. Not a word."

***

Carl was late. How was he supposed to know that Walden's training complex would be so remote and isolated? "Training Complex" probably wasn't the right term. The address on the envelope led him to an isolated mansion at the top of a cliff, spitting distance from the ocean. Malden must do something besides coach swimming, thought Carl. Or else he inherited a bundle from his folks.

Walden met Carl at the door.

"Show me the papers," said Walden.

After examining Carl's signatures, Walden tucked the papers away. "Let's go."

Carl followed Walden through the polished marble corridors of the mansion to an elevator. Rooftop pool? thought Carl as Walden punched a series of numbers into a keypad inside the elevator. The doors closed, and Carl felt the elevator sink rapidly. What the hell? Could Carl really have a pool in his basement? Or maybe it wasn't a pool. Perhaps a lab of some sort?

Carl felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle as the elevator continued to descend. What did Carl really know about Walden? If it wasn't for Frankie Meeks' interviews at the 2004 Games?and all the rumors afterwards?Carl would have known nothing about Walden. Maybe Carl should have called Meeks before signing on. What had ever happened to Meeks, anyhow?

When the elevator finally opened, Carl was overwhelmed with the scent of the ocean, and he could hear the crash of waves in the distance. A huge rock cavern with no visible opening surrounded them. In the center was a huge pool, complete with lap lane markers. The edges of the pool were polished stone the same color brown as the stone forming the cavern.

"You've probably never trained in a saltwater pool," said Walden. His voice echoed in the chamber. How big was this cave? "I think you'll like it. Natural saltwater is easier on the skin than chlorine."

Carl nodded. He'd swim in a pool of horse piss if Walden told him it would get him a medal.

"You'll find I don't really do the hands-on coaching. I leave that up to my assistant."

Carl tried not to frown, but he didn't like the idea of paying twenty grand to work with some assistant he'd probably never heard of.

"You'll soon discover that she's unique, like no one you've ever met before. I hope you won't let that get in the way of your training."

What did "unique" mean? Was she crazy or something? "No, sir," said Carl.

"Nerin!" shouted Walden. His voice boomed throughout the cavern. He seemed to be shouting at the water. Could Nerin already been in the pool? It seemed unlikely. It was dark at the far end of the cavern, but Carl thought he could see the far edge of the pool. He hadn't noticed anyone treading water, and even the water seemed too still to indicate anyone swimming around.

Ripples began to appear in the water, then Carl spotted something under the surface, moving fast?faster than he'd ever seen anyone swim. A long, slender hand broke the surface and then a head. The figure reached the side of the pool and propped her elbows on the edge of the pool.

Suddenly, Carl couldn't speak. The woman staring back at him was more beautiful than anyone he'd ever seen. Long, wet ringlets of wet blonde hair flowed down her back. Sea green eyes starred back at him, challenging, questioning. And, unless Carl was sadly mistaken, she was naked. The tops of her perfectly rounded breasts were just visible beneath the edge of the pool; the water lapped at them, almost hungrily.

"Carl, this is Nerin, my assistant," said Walden. He smiled, probably catching the dumbfounded expression on Carl's face.  "Quite a looker, ain't she? I've tried to get her to wear a top, but she'll have none of it."

"They're uncomfortable." Nerin's face was open, with no trace of guile or pretence. "And they slow me down."

Walden laughed. "Well, I admit I didn't try that hard to get her to change." He shrugged. "Can't blame a healthy man for looking."

Carl took a deep breath, struggling with the storm of questions surrounding him. What was this beautiful, topless woman doing in Walden's basement? Where was she when they walked in the room?holding her breath under water? And just what kind of "assistant" was she supposed to be?

"Well," said Walden. "Now that the introductions are over, I'll leave you two to it. You have a lot of work ahead of you. Carl, I hope you still remember the confidentiality provisions of your contract?"

Carl nodded.

"And you remember our deal, Nerin?" There was a harsh, almost threatening tone to Walden's voice that Carl didn't like.

"Of course," said Nerin, her perfect lips forming a barely perceptible frown.

Walden headed back to the elevator. "I'll be timing Carl's two hundred one week from today. I trust I'll see some improvement over his time in the qualifiers." The elevator pinged, and Walden disappeared through the doors.

"Walden left the really hard part to me," said Nerin.

"Hard part?" asked Carl.

"Yes, the part where you really freak out."

"To be honest," said Carl. "I'm already a little freaked out."

"Well, then, let's get the rest of it over with." Nerin flung herself into back stroke, revealing more completely her perfect breasts, her flat, muscular stomach, and her sparkling green tail.

Tail! Nerin was right about the freaking out part. Carl's jaw dropped and his legs gave way beneath him. He sat down hard on the stony surface of the pool deck, wondering if he'd gone insane. "You're a . . . you're a . . ."

Nerin swam back to the edge of the pool. "You're probably going to say mermaid, but we prefer merfolk."

"But it's impossible."

"Not impossible.  We try to stay out of sight of humans, but we've been spotted by people all over the world for many years."

Carl was having trouble breathing. "But-- but those were myths. Sailors' tales."

Nerin sighed. "I tell you what. Let me know when you are over your freak out and we'll get to work."

A mermaid? Perhaps it was someone in costume, some sort of cruel practical joke. But deep down Carl knew Nerin was real. Her very presence was foreign and intoxicating. If she wasn't the real thing, then someone had put an awful lot of time and effort into making him think she was.

Then Carl thought about Walden. All his secrecy made sense. It wasn't, as Carl thought originally, that Walden had developed some special coaching technique he wanted to keep to himself. Nobody could know about Nerin. If the media found out about her, no place would be safe for her to hide. Could it be that this was how Meeks trained? Had Nerin been around that long?

Carl disengaged from his swirling thoughts long enough to look at the pool. Nerin was swimming laps. No, not just swimming, she was racing from one end of the pool to the other at a speed Carl couldn't believe. It looked as if she had a motor tied to her or she'd been shot out of an underwater cannon. If she could enter the games, she'd leave everyone in her wake, even the best of the best. Carl wished for just a quarter of her speed. Next thing he knew, he'd stripped down to his Speedo and jumped in the pool.

Nerin smiled at him. "That was faster than I thought you'd be."

Carl nodded. "You're the one that taught Meeks. That's what makes him so good."

Nerin's jaw stiffened, and she turned away from Carl. "Let's get to it."

***

Working with Nerin was strange, frustrating, and, at times, exhilarating. She'd forced him to unlearn everything he'd known about swimming. She began with the breath, explaining that humans breathed in swimming as if they were trying to run on water. The key was breathing like a sea mammal, a dolphin or a whale. Oxygenate fully, then wait until it was needed again.  Carl nearly drowned several times before he got the hang of it, but once he did, he felt like he had more energy in the water then he had dared to imagine.

Next Nerin worked on his stroke?his kick, his paddle, the way the held himself in the water, everything. With all the corrections she made, if felt as if he were a kid learning to swim the first time. She wouldn't let him time his laps, claiming she hated stopwatches, but he was sure he was going slower than before. It just felt so awkward.

When Walden showed up a week later with a whistle and a stopwatch, Carl was surprised. He'd been so focused on Nerin, he'd almost forgotten about Walden.

"All right, kid," said Walden. "Let's see what you've got. I want to see your best 200."

Why did Carl suddenly feel nervous? Was he afraid Walden would be disappointed?

Nerin swam up behind Carl and patted him on the shoulder. "Just remember what I've taught you. You'll do fine."

At Walden's whistle, Carl took off, determined to show Walden how hard he'd been working. He concentrated on everything Nerin taught him, tried to do everything perfectly. He pushed himself as hard as he could.

When he finished, Walden's face was red. "Nerin!" he shouted. "What the hell have you been doing? This boy's lost five seconds off his piss poor time at the qualifiers."

Five seconds? thought Carl. That's horrible.

"I tried to explain," said Nerin. She backed farther away from the pool deck, looking scared. "Leaning the new technique takes time?"

"Time!" shouted Walden. "Carl doesn't have time. The last qualifier is in two weeks. If he doesn't swim, he won't make to the Olympics. Get it?"

Her lips trembled, as if she were about to cry. "I'll do better. I promise."

Carl didn't know what was going on, but he didn't like it. He cleared his throat. "Isn't it me that needs to do better?"

Walden turned his burning eyes on Carl. "I was just getting to you, fishboy. I picked you for a reason, and, right now, you're making me look like a fool. Do you think just anyone gets this kind of opportunity? You'd better work your ass off, or you're going spend your life wondering why you pissed away a golden opportunity."

Carl almost regretted inviting Walden's wrath, but the grateful glace from Nerin made it all worth it.

"Well? What the hell are you waiting for, get to work!" Walden headed back for the elevator, mumbling to himself.

When the door closed, Carl turned to Nerin. "What was that all about?"

Nerin rubbed her eyes. "Nothing. I don't know why I got so . . . emotional."

"Bullshit."

"Just leave it alone, all right?" said Nerin.

"No," said Carl. "Not until you level with me."

Nerin swam to him, took his hand, and looked in his eyes. "Look, I can't blame you for being frustrated by all this. I realize I haven't been very forthcoming; I promise, if you go to the qualifier and make the team, I'll tell you everything."

Carl felt his heart rise up to his throat.  God! Nerin was so beautiful, so kind. Why did Walden act like such a dick around her? Just being near her made Carl feel better than he'd felt in a long time. She was special, and not just because she was a mermaid.

"Okay," said Carl. "Until after the qualifiers."

Nerin's smile was like the sun rising over the ocean.

***

Carl pressed the last few strokes, his lungs, arms, and legs were burning, but he did not relax until he touched the wall. He looked to either side of him in time to be certain that at least some of the swimmers touched after him. For some reason, the crowd was roaring. Carl looked up at the board, then looked again. He'd not only bested his time from the last qualifier. He'd crushed it. In fact, he'd crushed everyone else's times. He was two-tenths of a second from the world record!

Carl climbed from the pool, and everyone that had scorned him a month ago swarmed over him now. Walden was among them, shouting and screaming like a kid. Carl was going to the Olympics. No?he was not just going, he was going to win the gold for the United States! He'd never been so happy. This was what he had worked so hard for. This was what it was all about. He only wished his real coach, Nerin, had been here to share it with him.

***

Nerin's eyes sparkled when he told her the news. "That's wonderful, Carl," she said. "I'm so happy for you."

"I couldn't have done it without you."

Nerin shook her head. "You're the swimmer, not me. It amazes me what you can do without a tail, and I've never met anyone who worked as hard as you without complaint."

"You deserve credit for this," said Carl. He sat on the edge of the pool, dangling his feet in the water. "It's you, not Walden who should be getting the calls from NBC and Sports Illustrated."

Nerin shook her head. "I don't care about that stuff."

"What do you care about?" asked Carl. Even after a month of training with Nerin, Carl had not gotten over the shock of just how beautiful she was. Little things, like the shake of her head, a wink, a shrug, made him feel ga-ga all over again. And yet he still felt like he barely knew her. She'd barely opened up to him, turning all conversations back to swimming.

"Helping you to smash the world record." Nerin smiled.

"Bullshit."

Nerin was doing it again, trying to defer any serious conversation. She wasn't getting away with it this time.  "You have no reason to care what happens to me," said Carl. "If I kick butt at the Olympics, Walden will get a nice cut of my fame and fortune. On the other hand, I can't even talk about you. What gives?

Nerin paled and turned away from Carl. "I don't want to talk about it."

"It has something to do with Meeks, doesn't it? You promised me you'd tell me about Meeks after the qualifiers. It's after the qualifiers."

"Why don't you leave well enough alone?" Nerin's eyes flashed with anger. "You're getting what you came here for."

"No." Carl splashed into the pool and took Nerin by the elbows, forcing her to look at him. "If that's who you think I am, than you haven't been paying attention. Yes, I want to go the Olympics and I want to win. I want to make my country proud. But I've never been willing to win at any cost. I told Walden I wasn't willing to take drugs to win, and I'm not going to stay willfully ignorant, either. I appreciate what you've done for me, Nerin, I really do. But I'm not going on with this if you can't level with me."

Carl wondered if he truly believed his own words. He certainly hadn't planned a speech like that. Was knowing more about Nerin important enough to sacrifice his dreams? He hoped he didn't have to find out.

Translucent sea-green tears dripped from her eyes.  He'd never seen anything so beautiful, or painful, to watch.

"It's in my contract with Walden?I promised not to tell."

"You're contract is crap." I said. "There's no way he can take you to court if you break it. He'd have to reveal his secret weapon. Plus, its not like you have any assets he can take from you. You don't even own a bathing suit?not that I'm complaining."

She wiped away a green tear. "Okay, I'll tell you, but please don't tell Walden. Just keep swimming like you have been."

"I can't make any promises," said Carl. "I don't know what you're going to tell me. But--" Carl wondered if he was about to go too far. Something about Nerin made him say more than he'd ever dared before with someone he cared for.

"But what?" asked Nerin.

Carl steeled himself. "But, the truth is, I care a lot about you Nerin. I know we barely know each other, but you're really special to me. I would never do anything to hurt you."

Nerin swam close to him. She touched his hair and caressed his arm.

Carl swallowed hard. Nerin's gesture sent his heart racing.

"I believe you," she said. "And I care about you, too. I never thought I'd say that about a human."

Carl considered putting his arms around her, trying to kiss her, but even more than he wanted her lips, he wanted the truth. "Tell me."

"The Merfolk are a proud and secretive people," Nerin began. "We hide ourselves from human eyes, for we know no good can come of a relationship between our races. Humans are hunters, savages that live only to kill and conquer--"

"Not all of us," interrupted Car.

Nerin smiled sadly. "So I've finally discovered. Until recently, the life of the Merfolk has been pleasant, peaceful. But, as Neptune said, as above, so below. When the cocaine trafficking began above, smugglers began throwing their stashes overboard to avoid getting caught. For a long time, we ignored it. But one day, a Merfolk named Addilus tried some. The addiction spread fast--"

Carl couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Wait a minute. You're saying that there are Merfolk junkies?"

Nerin nodded. "Sadly, yes. And I was one of them?one of the worst." She sighed deeply. "As much as I tried, I couldn't stop. I needed it. Finally, the King banished me from our society until I could overcome my addiction. I was so upset, I OD'd. I didn't care anymore. That's when Walden found me, near death. He nursed me back to health, helped me with my withdrawal. After that, I owed him."

"He did what any decent human being would do." said Carl. "You don't have to--"

"Let me finish. I entered a contract. I would say here and train a swimmer. If he broke the world record in the Olympic Games, I would be freed. If not, I'd have to do it again."

"That explains Meeks," said Carl.

"Yes. He was a very vain young man. He didn't really care about the world record, a couple of gold medals were enough. He didn't train as hard as he could have, and so my contract wasn't fulfilled."

"That's ridiculous. It was a stupid contract in the first place, and Meeks never could have won his medals without your help. Walden should have let you go."

"Well, he did renegotiate." Nerin fronted a false smile. "You only have to win the gold?not break the world record. Of course, I'm sure you could do both, if you really tried."

Maybe, thought Carl. Even probably. At the rate he was improving, he was very likely to smash the world record at the games. The real question was, should he?

***

Walden sat smirking behind a huge mahogany desk. Carl had never been in Walden's plush office on the top floor of the mansion. It had beautiful picture windows overlooking the ocean?the ocean where Nerin belonged.

"So what did you want to talk to me about, Carl?" The giant leather chair he sat in made Walden look small.

"It's about Nerin," said Carl.

"Go on."

"I?she told me about the deals she made with you. First with Meeks, then with me."

Walden's face reddened. "I knew that little eel couldn't keep her mouth shut."

"Walden, it's not fair. If I'd known that Nerin was working for nothing, I wouldn't have--"

Walden stood and ground his fists in to the desk. "Cut the bullshit, Carl. You wanted to go to the Olympics, win the gold, as much as I did. More. And now you're almost there. You should be thanking me."

"It's wrong. It's slavery, and I'm benefiting from it. That makes me culpable."

"Stop acting so high and mighty. We'll all get what we want if you go win that medal. Just kept your mouth shut like your contract says."

Carl shook his head. "It's not right. Maybe if you agreed to pay her, have her coach me on different terms . . ."

Walden laughed. "You're still pretty clueless, aren't you. She's not interested in money. The terms she's working under are the only ones that will work. There's nothing you can do about it."

"I can fire you."

Walden looked deadly serious. "That's a bad idea." Walden reached into a desk drawer, pulled out some documents and tossed them across the desk at Carl. "I bought myself some insurance against that. Take a look at those. They're drug test results. The IOC will see these if you fire me."

"But that's crazy. I've never taken drugs."

Walden smirked. "They're the best forgeries money can buy. Plus, I have some extra pull with the IOC. Face it, Carl. I own you."

Carl's blood boiled. "I could refuse to swim."

Walden shrugged at sat back down in his chair. "You could, but it would be a wasted gesture. I'll just go find another loser like you, one that may not have as many silly moral qualms. Of course, that would mean Nerin's in my pool another four years, since she won't have fulfilled her end of the contract."

"You're a heartless prick," said Carl.

"And you're a loser whose only hope is me. Now, get back in the damn pool!"

***

When Carl arrived the next day at the pool, Nerin was waiting for him as always, greeting him with a flash of her tail and a seawater-moistened smile. Walden had put him in an impossible bind: swim at the Games or let Nerin suffer even more. Carl had to admit to himself that something besides Walden's demands was pushing him to swim. He'd dreamed of the glory of being an Olympic champion since he was a kid. But as he looked at her, he felt he saw her for the first time as she truly was. She was a slave shackled in chains that were invisible but every bit as effective as cold iron.  He felt tears come to his eyes as he remembered a piece of the Olympic Charter: Olympism seeks to create a way of life based on the joy found in effort, the educational value of good example and respect for universal fundamental ethical principles.

What kind of torch would he be carrying to the Olympic Games if his presence was due to the efforts of an imprisoned slave? Even if he won the Gold, he wouldn't be a true Olympian. The test of a true Olympian was not the medals around his neck, but what he carried in his heart. Looking at it that way, the decision was easy. He would be a true Olympian.

Carl pulled a stopwatch from his gym bag and handed it to Nerin.

She wrinkled her brow. "What's this? Walden's the stopwatch guy. I don't believe in them."

"I know. Just time me in a two-hundred. Then I'll explain."

Nerin gave the signal and Carl surged through the water, using every skill she had taught him, giving it everything he had. At times like this, he almost felt like a Merfolk himself, more of the water than of the land. It was incredible feeling, a gift Nerin had given him that he would always have.  He would treasure the gift more than anything he would ever own because it would be the best reminder he had of Nerin. Her beauty, her strength, her courage. The thought of letting her go was almost too much to bear.

Carl touched up and Nerin let out a little shriek.

"I don't believe it," shouted Nerin. "That was two seconds under the world record?you did it!" Nerin hugged him. "We should tell Walden."

"I don't think so," said Carl. He wasn't surprised at his record-breaking time. He knew he had it in him now. If he went to the games, he would win it all. He would be famous, a swimming legend. But Walden would never let that happen, not after what Carl was going to do.

"Why, what's going on?" asked Nerin.

"That was my last swim with you."

Nerin's face went white. "You're leaving?"

"No, you are. You're going home."

"What? How?"

Carl swam to her and picked her up in his arms. Her body was warm, smooth, and firm. "It shouldn't be hard. I'll carry you to my car, put a towel around your tail, drive you to the beach, and then carry you to the water. I'm assuming you can take over from there." Carl tried to force a smile, but it was hard. He kept thinking about how much he would miss her.

Nerin's green tears started to flow. "But what about your gold medal? Walden will never let you compete if you do this."

Carl wiped a tear from her cheek. "Lots of things are more important than medals."

She searched his eyes. "When I get home, I'm going to tell the other merfolk that some humans are kind and wise."

Carl raised his eyebrow. "Will they believe you?"

She laughed. "No, they'll probably think I'm still on drugs."

END

David E. Hughes has been published in Fusion Fragment, Flash Me Magazine, and Quantum Muse, and others. His short fiction has won honorable mention awards from Writers of the Future, SpecFic World's Annual Short Story Contest, Writer's Digest Annual Story Contest, and the S.E.A.K. Legal Fiction Writing Contest, among others. He's a co-founder and co-editor of Electric Spec magazine and a member of Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers. He's currently looking for a publisher for his second novel, a science fiction/legal thriller.

Story by David E. Hughes, Copyright 2009
Image by Rory Clark, Stopped Motion Photograph, Copyright 2009