AQUIFER ~ 0 / ONSET –
Jeske & Eduard Meinema
‘Onset’ is a short
story. An introduction to the AQUIFER series: A mysterious diary
confuses marine biologist Jerry Allen. The meeting with strange
sea creatures which Priscilla Blextone describes in her ancient diary
looks lifelike. Her drawings and description agree with beings
that are also known as mermaids. As a scientist Jerry Allen
knows that's not possible. Mermaids do not exist. Or…?
Allen’s leave is interrupted. The Navy urgently needs his
help. At a location close to the Great Barrier Reef Allen
watches secret images of unknown beings filmed by the Navy. Unknown
creatures that look suspiciously like the mermaids Priscilla Blextone
had described two centuries earlier. Could it be...? →Start
0 / ONSET
already undressed and neatly folded and placed my dress on the bench
of the boat. A dinghy. The boat, I mean; the dress is
of Beau Brummel, the
designer of 1815. In fact, a designer of men’s clothing, but I
am far ahead of my time. And I just know that everyone in London
will be jealous of me. But out here; in Australia there are
hardly any women that I can compare myself with. Or women who
can keep up with me. Though, considering my length, I could
quite go on for an aborigine.
there are no envious looks of other women around here. And
today, out here on the high seas, no looks at all. Finally I
succeeded to go out on my own. And believe me; I am all on my
own out here on the Great
Barrier Reef. All
I have to do is take off my corset. Bloody misshapen
thing. Great to hide my love handles. But the way it
oppresses me! My waist is totally gone, completely squeezed.
Constricted so bad that my breasts are just about to be pushed up to
my ears. No, women do not look at me; the men will. But
I’m already married. To the tallest man on the
island. Governor Patrick Blextone is one of the most important
men of the fifth continent. Or the sixth. Arithmetic is not
my thing. Well, at least it is the largest island in the
world. A beautiful country, but hot! And dry... At times it
is unbearable. In the summer frogs, even lung fish, dig deep in
the ground to survive the heat. But today I’m on the
water. I'm going to have a look at something completely else; on
my own. I have succeeded in avoiding the guards and now I am
ready to see the beautiful underwater reef.
I have to take off that wretched corset. Subconsciously I have a
quick look around me to make sure that no one can see me here. No
sign of a boat. A clear blue horizon with a sweltering sun high
in the sky. I must be careful I do not get burned or tanned;
white is the beauty ideal. Convinced that I’m all alone, I
dive into the ocean, all naked. The water is lovely warm and
clear. I have never had such a clear view in Holland. Yes,
hubby may be a perfect English gentleman; this lady really comes
from Holland. Priscilla de With, daughter of a wealthy
patrician. Ah that was in the good old days. The Golden Age
my parents call it. But since then the famous VOC, the
Oostindische Compagnie got
you didn’t get that name, did you? The VOC or Dutch East India
Company got bankrupt and we were overruled by the English. All
over the world our colonies were conquered. Freed said the
English. Australia; Cape Town ... even some hamlet that we
bought from the Native American Indians. New Amsterdam we had
named it. How do those Englishmen call it again? New York or
something like that. Shitty, little town, absolutely no
charisma; totally no shops... I digress, huh? Yep,
Priscilla de With, sorry, Blextone is sometimes chaotic. Family
habit, I inherited it from my mother. My head is always full of
important questions such as "How on Earth do I get the latest
designs of Beau Brummel all the way over here?" I often have to
wait months before the latest fashion finally arrives here. Yes,
well; and by that time it is not hot anymore. Crazy stuff.
hold my breath and go under. The colored fish are
breathtaking. Corals friendly wave with their hand fan polyps. I
feel like the queen of the reef. Until... A gray-green shade
shoots along behind me. Hiding behind the immense staghorn coral
branches. I have no idea if it is really called staghorn, but I
think that calcareous skeletons resemble antlers. I can feel my
heart beating in my throat. A shark? Oh
my god. And
Patrick had warned me so many times. I see my life flashing
by. Priscilla Blextone, born in Holland, Haarlem to be exact,
under. Ha! Down
under water here. My gravestone will soon tell anybody: ‘the
victim of a shark attack.’ All that remains of me are a
few gnawed bones. And my collection of designer clothes, of
course. Closets filled with clothes. OMG!
is going to wear all those pretty things? Not that bitch Stefani
Germanotta? My neighbor? Cute woman, but she has a strange
taste of dressing.
on Priscilla, get yourself together. Why would anyone who has
seen the world, like I did, be afraid of a little shark? It’s
only a fish. Like a guppy. When I surface, I look straight into the
cold eyes of a horrible big shark. Some kind of rag; a big white
bitch. The same time it squeezes its eyes, its mouth opens
I think, “Seems Stefani Germanotta is going to get my clothes
after all.” It all goes very fast. In a final attempt to
survive this attack, I take a big, deep breath of air. Ready to
go under water and avoid the big mouth, I feel how something suddenly
pulls me at my feet. Another shark? I am dragged down and
rapidly pulled away from the shark. Terrified I let all the air
escape from my lungs. Bubbles of air are swarming and dancing
into the sunlight at the surface. I see a few gray-green shadows
chasing the shark. They are jabbing it with pieces of coral. The
large, white lout who wanted to eat me as a starter, or perhaps as an
appetizer, I’m just not that big you know, goes away. It swims
into the unknown ocean with an empty stomach. I gasp for
breath. Foolish of course. My lungs fill with seawater.
Yikes, salt water! Then two soggy lips are pressed against
mine. Yuck! Something, or someone, I cannot think clearly
anymore, is blowing air into my lungs. Stuck closely together, like
two kissing fish, we slowly rise. Just below the surface the
gray-green shade lets go of me. I look around. The shark is
gone and I’m back at my little boat.
I hear someone on the other side of the dinghy screaming upset. Yes,
women can be hysterical, but men in panic can be worse!
I swim, still naked, around my boat; to starboard. Or is it
larboard? Who cares; I’m not on
which is currently the most important thing. On, um...
the other side
of the jolly-boat is another larger boat with my screaming husband
and some bodyguards on board.
are you out of your mind? There are deadly sharks around these
waters. You have to come out right away!”
yeah. I am floating naked in the water, you know. “Let
the men turn around,” I say while I hide my breasts with my
arms. The clear water is wonderful, but a little uncomfortable
at the moment.
turn around. Other side. Now!” commands my tall
husband who suddenly regained his bravery.
the six men turn around, get to the other side of the rickety boat so
they almost fall overboard themselves. Just in time they manage
to restore the balance. Satisfied Patrick looks at me.
hello-oh,” I say. “Turn around! You too!”
sweetheart... I’ve seen you like this a thousand times.”
never seen me bobbing in the water like this, you pervert. Turn
around and make sure your men are not watching me!”
I hear Patrick’s men snigger, my long bodied husband turns
around with not too flattering, cumbersome swinging movements to the
other side of the boat. In an inexplicable way I suddenly
remember a ballet version of the dying swan. I can’t help
myself from laughing.
is it?” Patrick asks.
look around,” I almost bark at him. I scramble on
board. Quickly get myself into my corset and pull on the cords
of torture in the hope of restoring my waist. “Oh fuck
say just a little too loud. “Let’s just hang it;
much more comfortable.”
I finally have dressed, in my Special Brummel, I hear a screeching
and squeaking sound. I look up. Far from the boat a
gray-green tail slips slowly into the ocean.
know what I saw.
how do I convince my husband without being declared insane?
Allen roams about the flea market in the center of Amsterdam. Not
something he does every day; walking around. Usually he
swims. Or rather: he dives. But not in the famous canals of
Amsterdam. It is close to impossible in 2042. Since the world is
afflicted by the Great Drought the canals are almost empty. Fresh
water is becoming increasingly scarce.
Allen is a marine biologist; he studies the oceans and the species
living in it. A young, attractive tough guy, just about thirty
years old. As he once again has been under water for several
hours his hands are full of wrinkles like the hands of an elderly
man. The salt water makes his hands week. But not now. This
week he is on leave. Time to visit his homeland and stroll
around the market on the Museumplein. A beautiful plaza in
between the Rijksmuseum, you know, the museum of Rembrandt's ‘Night
Watch’, and the Van Gogh Museum, you know, the guy who cut off
his ear. No; bad example. You’d rather think of
the beautiful sunflowers that he painted.
stalls are filled with antiques, or what is called antiques, and
design stuff. Most of it is actually used clutter; very
classy advertised as ‘vintage’;
a name undoubtedly raising the prices. But it remains junk.
there’s something you don’t see very often these
thinks when he sees the pile of paper books. “Today
everything is published as e-books.”
carefully looks through some of the books. Just as carefully he
puts them back in the booth. As he wants to walk by, he
discovers a small thumbed book. It looks like an ancient
script. Normally he would never look at it; but this book
has a cover with fish on it. When he scrolls through the pages
he sees what it really is. An old diary, written entirely by
little book, eh?” says the young woman behind the stall. “A
unique copy, sir. Really something for you. Or for your
girlfriend... if you have a girlfriend that is.”
you think so?” chuckles Jerry. As if the woman he has
never seen before knows what Jerry likes at first glance. Or
would she have other intentions?
addition to the handwritten texts there are some original
drawings. Illustrations of all kinds of fish and... Hmm, some
weird thing. Volatile he reads the text under the drawings. The
young woman’s texts make him laugh. He knows most of the
fish that she describes with her humor and her accuracy. How
often has he been diving in the Great
Barrier Reef? He
scrolls back to the page with the strange fish. Or, what is
it? What a beautiful drawing. It looks like... Ah, he must
laugh about himself; it looks like a mermaid.
much is this?” he asks the sultry looking lady behind the
stall, who is still almost unabashedly languishing, waiting for
Jerry’s answer. Does
he have a girlfriend or not?
you? Or your girlfriend, dear?” the woman says with a
cheerful Amsterdam accent.
laughs kindly at her. “For me. You don’t have
to wrap it up.”
I would like to wrap you up,” she laughs.
with his new acquisition, he leaves the woman behind her
stall. “Well,” she says to her neighbor, “that
was my shortest affair ever...”
the evening, comfortably laying on the couch, Jerry enjoys reading
June 23, 1815
water is very calm and there is nothing to be seen on the
could also be due to the darkness). There
is a thick cloud cover and in this light, or no light, I cannot
distinguish the sea from the air. I
always thought you could admire a beautiful starry sky on the open
think I will ask Patrick if we can make a stop at a tropical
no, not really. There
are no shops on those islands.
finished the outline of the tail that I saw today. I
idea whether the drawing is truthful. Now
that I have another look, the
tail may very well be a deformed rock.
a very small boat.
was a bad idea. It
is pitch dark and nobody knows that I have just thrown my husband
overboard to take a look in the water with the bloodthirsty
consider me mad. (If
they did not already.) I’ll probably have to call for
goodness. Patrick is still alive. I
had obviously not thought that he was the one who moved through the
fact, I wonder if he can stand the cold that long. Maybe
I should get him out of the water and recognize that I have just
suffered from a stroke, as he asserted this afternoon.
that I think about it, it actually still makes me angry. You
know what? Let
continue to look just a little longer. I
know what I saw.
actually… I don’t know what I saw.
know that I’ve seen something.
Patrick calls. It
darling, come quickly.” Patrick floats around
the gig. Through
the darkness I cannot decide if his expression is serious, but
considering the relaxed tone of his voice there are no sharks around
at this moment (or well, he has not seen them anyway).
do you mean? Come quickly?” I hiss panicky.
into the water,” Patrick calls again. “I think I see
“I can’t,” I say
prompt. “Then the ink will run out.”
worse; my notes are torn apart by that white monster. I
don’t think so. I’m not going back into the water.
Patrick recalls. “I really think you should see this. I
think... I mean, I’m starting to believe... There is indeed
something strange going on here.”
1815 and it still is a taboo for a man to acknowledge, even for once,
a woman is right. We should do something about that; us
women. We should fight for equal rights like sisters. We
should go ‘all
and not only fight for our right, but also for other… um,
Or voting rights.
will teach them.
But for now I’ll have to settle for
the fact that my husband, Mister
Always Right, gives
me the benefit of the doubt as he finally believes he has seen
something I have seen before.
“What do you see?”
I ask curiously. And convinced of myself I think: “Told
“A phantom,” says Patrick, not so
very sure anymore. The big boss is suddenly not so bossy any
longer. “It looks like gold. The shadow looks like
“Gold?” My attention is drawn again. Then
I realize, “No, no, no. That is not possible. It was
green. Or gray. Green Gray. Gray-green.” Ha! If
it was gold I would never have left the water I think greedy.
and have a look,” sighs Patrick. “And give me some
Carefully I bow my oil lamp over the
railing. Painfully my eyes manage to find Patrick… and
the shadow circling around him ...
A shadow that is neither
green nor gray. Unfortunately.
I quickly grab my notes and
try to make a realistic sketch of this... that... the... thing. The
being. Whatever it may be.
The water largely distorts
the shape of the thing, but for now it will do. I go by what I
see. And that’s a human torso and a long tail; very
different from that shark I encountered. I’m no expert,
but I can remember an article about a recently discovered species,
with exactly such a tail. A sea cow.
No charming name,
if you ask me.
‘Priscilla,” it suddenly sounds
panicking from the water. “It touches me. Help!”
you’re such a...” When I look over the railing, I see to
my horror that Patrick disappears under water. “I’m
coming!” I cry startled. I quickly grab a bunch of
rope. Holy moly, hard to lift that stuff. I throw some of
it overboard. The other end I attach to the mast. I get
almost relieved when I hear sneezing. But then I realize that it
can also be The
difference is difficult to distinguish because Patrick, as he once
again ends up in a coughing fit, sounds the same like a seal. I
frantically run back to the railing. “Patrick! Patrick,
grab the rope!”
looks up startled from the diary. “Darn,
why now?” he
thinks. “Jerry,” he says curtly to the caller.
says the surly voice on the other end of the line without telling his
name. “Nice to know you are making a pleasure trip, but we
need your cooperation here. As quickly as possible.”
do you mean Commander?” says Jerry, recognizing the gruff voice
of the naval commander out of thousands.
as I say it. You must report here. Tomorrow.”
sputters Jerry Allen, “I cannot arrange transportation
tonight. It will really take me a day or two before I...”
morning you will be picked up. Tomorrow afternoon you report to
me,” the caller commands seconds before he ends the call.
that’s great,” grumbles
one week of vacation to a night of...”
to the extent possible, Jerry is sitting in the navy
aircraft. Slumped in his chair, he reads on in the diary of the
June 24, 1815
is still alive, thank goodness. Besides
the fact that I don’t want to lose him, of course, I really
have no clue how I should justify his sudden disappearance.
that I know how to explain what I have seen tonight. Patrick
used the rope to climb back on deck.
looked over his shoulder at the almost black sea. And
then, suddenly, The Being surfaced.
was a human.
submerged almost right away, but the image of this creature is
engraved so deeply in my mind that I can see her whenever I close my
eyes were nearly twice as big as mine and even darker than the
darkness of the night. Her
nose was flattened ... it looked more like two nostrils without a
nose bridge. And
her mouth... a mouth. Like
indefinable flaps were at the height of her ears. It
resembled the gills as I had seen on the shark. And
in her eyes I saw no anger, only curiosity.
oh, right; she
also had a tail.
morning, dear.” Patrick slides at the breakfast table. He
doesn’t ask me how I slept and I do not blame him. The
answer he already knows. “What are you doing?”
special.” I put my notes away. The more I try to remember
last night, the blurrier the images linger. I’ve been
thinking about it so much the last few hours that I almost start
believing it was a dream. An illusion.
it,” Patrick says thoughtfully. “May I have a look?”
He nods toward my bundle of notes.
Thoughtless I slide the
book to him. “If you think of anything,
“Priscilla,” he interferes. “Did
you really want to leave me there for hours bobbing around in the
ocean because I happened to think that you suffered from a heat
“Um,” I say ashamed. “That part
was... That’s not the point,” I say primly.
was just worried.”
“You should have believed me right
away,” I say angrily.
“I do believe you. I
just don’t believe in fairy tales.”
mutter something he cannot hear and decide to enjoy
breakfast. Askance I watch Patrick grumbling continues looking
through my notes. He is silent and looks at the sketches I
made. Then, unexpectedly, he says: “You are
“What?” I stammer shy.
got talent. You can draw very well,” he says
again. “Perhaps you should design dresses.”
thank you, but I think I’d rather just go to the store and
Patrick laughs. “Whatever you want,
dear.” He returns my notes. Lost I browse through my
diary. I look at the human face that I have outlined. It
negates what I’ve seen last night. Then I look up. “Do
you think we’ll see her again?”
is it?” I still stare at the sketch.
“Do you think...?” I look up
and lean over to him confidentially. “Do you think we
Patrick draws a frown. “Tell who,
I shrug my shoulders. I don’t know
to whom I should tell this. But I do not want to carry this
burden alone. I want answers.
leans a bit forward and continues our conversation whispering: “No
one will believe us, Priscilla.” His face is serious “We
need to keep this between us. Otherwise they will declare us
crazy and I will lose my job.”
Jerry Allen closes the diary. Picks it up again. Scrolls
back to have another look at the page with the mermaid and then
carefully stores the diary in his bag. If he wasn’t a
scientist... If he wouldn’t need scientific proof... That
Blextone wrote so extensively and in detail about possible mermaids
that Jerry almost was going to believe her.
barks commander Clousteau as Jerry reports himself.
It is only that you did not have me picked up from my bed, but
there’s no way I could have been coming over here any faster.”
grumbles Clousteau. “I think it is important to look at
this case from your point of view.”
cannot tell you much. Defense, secrecy... You know how these
things work. Don’t you?”
sighs Jerry, “I had to sign so many papers before I was allowed
to come over here; I feel I unconsciously even sold my body to
Clousteau repeats nervously and without going into Jerry’s
joke. “Sit down Dr. Allen. I’m going to
show you some disturbing images.”
pictures?” Tensed Jerry sits down at the long table. “Will
there be more people?” he asks, looking around the empty room.
the less people know about this, the better.”
I’m curious ...”
too,” says the commander.
me? Haven’t you seen the images yet?” Jerry asks,
course I did. I mean, I’m curious to hear your opinion.”
Clousteau takes place next to Jerry Allen. Quickly typing his
password on the keyboard on the table. Sweeps his thumb on the
scanner, and then, together with Jerry, silently looks at the images
that appear on the wall.
Clousteau looks intently at Jerry. “And? What do you
think? As a professional?”
is petrified looking at the blank screen.
This is... How is it...? Commander, when were these images made?”
secret Dr. Allen. I just want to know what you think. What
do you think it is?”
rubs his eyes. “As a scientist, I’m not supposed to
say this; not even think it... But, um ...” he looks
intently at the commander. “May I speak freely?”
do,” the commander confirms curious to hear Jerry’s
grabs his bag. Rummages circuitous until he finds Priscilla
Blextone’s diary. He quickly browses to the page with The
Priscilla described it neatly. Folded open he puts the book on
the table, in front of Clousteau.
Clousteau. A diary from 1815. Look at the similarity between
this drawing and the creatures that you have captured on video.”
Clousteau stares at the drawing. Shallowly he reads the
accompanying text and then looks hopeful at Jerry Allen. “We
are on the same level, huh? Allen?”
would almost say, coincidence does not exist...”
men look at each other in silence.
do you understand why I had to let you come back as soon as
possible?” Clousteau says. “We need to investigate
this; do additional research.”
all due respect Clousteau. To examine this carefully, we need
can be arranged directly.”
ho, ho ...” Jerry mutters. “I would love to. I
mean, I feel honored... but I have other commitments.”
Dr. Allen... I need you here!”
Clousteau,” Jerry continues, “I know exactly who you need
to unravel this mystery.”
somewhat flabby professor overlooks the unknown visitor sitting
suspiciously behind his computer.
can I do for you, hnn?” he moans.
Allen, marine biologist,” the visitor says briefly. “I
want to talk to you about a diary.”
you write a diary. Really nice for you,” the professor
growls almost rude.
do not write; I read, professor. And not just a diary; an
important 18th century document bequeathed by the Blextone family.”
really, hnn?” the fat man continues.
Dutch navy has asked me to accompany her on her journey to the
locations described in this journal.”
am really glad for you. Have a good trip. Or a safe
Jerry Allen is somewhat accustomed to people like this. Without
responding to the blunt professor, he starts telling: “The
Diary of Priscilla Blextone contains very detailed descriptions of...
let’s say, strange sea creatures in the waters around
Australia. I brought the book along for you, so you can see it
moans the professor. “Chicklit from the 18th century...”
He grabs the diary; browses through the first pages without much
interest until his eyes catch some curious illustrations. Surprised
he reads the text Priscilla Blextone wrote more than two centuries
ago underneath her impressively detailed drawings.
yeah,” says Jerry, “that’s quite interesting, isn’t
what?” He has another look at Jerry. “Young man,
this sort of apparitions used to be observed frequently. Pure
imagination,” the professor perks as he returns the book to the
think so? Do you really think that all these stories are based
on fantasy?” Jerry Allen looks defiantly at the
professor. “What would you say if we, the Navy and I,
believe that we may have found these creatures?”
would say you probably drank too much or have a very vivid
imagination. Good afternoon.”
let me tell you about the most recent location I’ve been with
the Navy, where we found the gray-green shadows described by Blextone
and recorded them on video. Sea creatures with a unique way of
communicating.” Jerry Allen laughs triumphantly: “Fantasy
has become reality professor.”
professor moves uneasily in his chair back and forth. “Hnn. Without
scientific evidence, every theory remains fantasy,” he bluffs.
why I’m here.”
convince me? Do you have any conclusive evidence?”
the Navy has asked me to invite you to prove our suspicion.”
and why hasn’t the Navy invited you?”
they did. But the next few months I will be in Peru. I can
help with the excavation of a Leviathan.”
the professor looks up at him. “Livyatan
as the Leviathan. A fossil killer sperm whale prey with a skull
of three meters in length; teeth in upper and lower jaw, a huge
predator; a monster.”
well informed,” laughs Jerry.
I read my literature ...”
notice. You know professor, if I had not been invited for the
project with the killer sperm whale, I would certainly cooperate with
the Navy. What a great project. As soon as the Leviathan
turns up...” Allen needs to laugh himself. “Above
ground, of course... Once we have uncovered the fossil and shipped it
to the Natural History Museum, then I’ll be happy to help.”
do you mean?”
agree with your proposal. I actually thought you were some sort
of charlatan, but people who engage in this kind of projects... hnn,
the Leviathan. Impressive. You’ve convinced me. I
will help with the search for scientific proof of these sea
creatures. But... if it turns out that the whole enterprise is a
am out. Immediately.”
professor! I’m sure the Navy will be happy to hear this.”
Jerry rummages in the pockets of his worn jacket. “Here
the professor looks at the crumpled note held in front of his
nose. “What am I to with that scrap of paper?”
is a list of potential candidates for the project. Intelligent
students who must fulfill their social service; they will be
outstanding for your team.”
professor reads the names on the list one by one. “Hnn,
funny. A Miss Blextone,” grins the corpulent man.
in a name, Professor?”
laughs Jerry Allen.
the name of the game?”
Professor. We call it Project AQUIFER.”
how this ends? Then order the first part of this fantastic
(1) Two worlds:
and deep ocean is not the place to expect a Shopping
Obviously Pinkett Blextone didn’t volunteer to be here. In the
year 2042 Earth is dealing with worldwide drought. There are high
needs for fresh, drinking water. The self-appointed Shopping
in daily life nothing but a regular shopaholic,
investigates an unknown world hidden below the surface of the seas.
Dressed stylish and fashionable, Pinky surprises everyone working on
the mysterious project. Far away from civilisation the small,
is the center of intrigues, romances and... danger.
are those mysterious creatures living in the deep? Why is de navy
involved? And, even more important, who is dating who?
is Science Chicklit. An
unusual combination of genres. A story that takes place in the near
future at the crossroads of science and shops. Funny
Chicklit and exciting Young Adult / Science Fiction, mixed with a
touch of fantasy, full of hilarious situations, fast turns and
in Paperback and eBook at your favorite retailer.
to order now at Amazon,
by Jeske & Eduard Meinema.
rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of
1976. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or
transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or
retrieval system without the prior written permission of the
book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents
are the product of the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locations or persons,
living or dead, is coincidental.
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AQUIFER 1 - Two
AQUIFER 2 –
AQUIFER 3 –