He was allowed to retire, but preferred not to.

Boredom was the one guest Watson refused to keep company. Whether in his home, or in his head. So they consoled him by allowing him to hover over the golden walls of Tridention, guarding the city from others, from enemies, from friends, human and fish alike at the deepest part of the Ocean floor. There he floated, harpoons strapped behind his back, two in two, and the open hardground horizons stretched to his eye’s outermost limits. Where he watched, he monitored. And where he monitored, he guarded. Where he guarded, he waited.

“Keep your eyes open, lads!” Watson insisted. “I know we’re peaceful but that doesn’t mean you should be sleeping!”

“I’m not sure what else you’re expecting, Watson. But we’re the most peaceful and secure city in the Seven Oceans. You think a pod of angry whales are going to show up and attack the city?”

“You clearly don’t know your whales, lad,” Watson noted. “I hunted almost all kinds of them. Some of them, if they did form a pod, and dive down to our city, would have us toast. Why you think the Vicegerent has us standing around here for?”

“Should’ve retired like the Vicegerent suggested, with all due respect,” the hunter said.

“I’m still in charge of you. Say any more and I’ll make sure the Vicegerent demotes you, or Banishes you for that matter,” Watson noted. “Now keep your eyes diligent. This is not a free job, just so you know,”

The hunter grunted as he armed his own harpoons, holding them vertically aside him as he looked outwards to other waters. The stagnant, acryllic ocean concealed whatever lay in the distance in its blanketing darkness, with only the lights of some, who had bioluminescent bulbs on his head, to stand watch over Tridention.

“I don’t know how you manage to keep yourself moving like this,” the hunter said. “Doesn’t it get any harder for you?”

“It’s quite the workout, and it’s good for you,” Watson said. “But don’t you worry about me, kid. I’ll be fine.”

Watson made sure the hunter would carry out his duty efficiently, before swimming away to scour the other city. He hovered right over roads, examining the houses of other civilians in the city, before swimming right through alleyways in between those roads. He checked over the Trident Bridge, cutting right through the middle, and under it as well. He swam right past the square in front of Whitehall, the largest building in the city, and then swam right behind it to check the farms, the gardens, the barracks, and everything in between. All the while, he greeted the hunters. But not all of them greeted him back.

“Watson!” someone shouted.

He froze still, floating mid-water, taking in the city around him. The voice came from the East, and someone clad in full armor, sheathed harpoons, approached him. Watson immediately recognized the sharp edges pointing out from the plates, spicules they were called, to know that an actual Commandant of a brigade was arriving to talk to him. One of thirty-five brigades the city used to guard the city. His grimacing appearance told Watson everything he needed to know. The smirk on his lips, told him the Commandant was about to give him another scolding. One of many, at that. The grin on his eyes told him that Watson was already, yet again, taking it too far. And the tingling fins on his back, not restrained by his armor in any shape or form, showed the sensations that wracked his nerves. Enough to make him go mad. And soon, potentially Watson. “How many times are we going to have this conversation?”

“Maybe you should learn to keep your hunters in line, Haddock,” Watson said. “Having things too easy leaves them complacent.”

“That’s not your problem anymore, Watson. I don’t get you!” Haddock shouted. “Why must you insist on making things complicated? Haven’t you already figured out that all you do is cause problems for everyone?”

“The problems already existed, I never created them,’ Watson said. “I merely point them out.”

“The Vicegerent doesn’t really want any more trouble from you in the city; you should be lucky he allowed you to keep doing this role. At least you’re not hunting again,” Haddock said.

“Why must the Vicegerent insist that everything is going so smoothly when it actually isn’t?” Watson inquired. “I will never understand,”

“Why must you insist that everything is as hectic as you claim it is?” Haddock questioned. “Scolding a hunter for merely sleeping on the patrolling job for a mere moment? You weren’t even this diligent when you were still Commandant.”

“Then you should be,” Watson noted. “You already know the point of this.”

“I do, but you should calm down,” Haddock noted. “It will take its toll on you at this age.”

“I already have enough to worry about now,” Watson said. “You underestimate how much patience I have,”

“Did your daughter do something stupid again?”

“I’m waiting until she does,” Watson said.

“Just keep her in check and you’ll be fine,” Haddock warned. “Now don’t go causing any more fusses I’ve got a brigade to watch over here.”

“That hunter was one of yours?” Watson asked. “You should discipline him a little more.”

“You were a good Commandant, trust me. But there’s more to these Oceans than just hunting fish to stay alive. I’d tell you to enjoy having your stomach always full, but you never really liked that.”

“And for good reason, mind you,” Watson said. “At least you get to slack off a little more than those beneath you,”

“I’ll promote the hunter you scolded just to annoy you,” Haddock said.

Watson laughed at the notion. “You’re funny,” he admitted.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH

The screaming echoed from below, across the waters of the city. Watson and Haddock looked to the square, then peeked up to Whitehall. There was an altercation right near the front entrance, and it had escalated.

“That can’t be-”

“Oh great not this again,” Watson said.

Watson jetted to the Ocean floor. Whitehall stood in front of him. A gargantuan, pale-white edifice with colonnades spaced across from one end to the other. Right in the middle was the front door. And in front of the door, two of the hunters stood guard near the entrance. The only way Watson knew about them was from their sturgeon armor, almost identical to that of Haddock, but with more upgrades to the harpoons and hunting gear. In front of two of the sentries, from what Watson had imagined, there was a lady that sckirmished with them. Screamed at them. Scolded at them. The altercation had been identified in a heartbeat. Right then, Watson charged in. Not this nonsense again, Watson admitted.

Even though Watson knew better than to indulge in an altercation he had nothing to do with, he still obliged. Rushing to the fray, he watched the old woman try to jostle between the two hunter guards. “You will let me pass and talk to that Vicegerent of yours!” she insisted. “I’m telling you, as I have been telling you for a long time, the Arctic has much the Vicegerent is afraid of! They are still out there!”

Watson reached for his harpoons, grabbing them by the shaft and drawing them out. As he rushed to the altercation, he made sure the hunters would not lay another hand on Jane. Or at least attempt to do so. With irons in tow, Watson came to a halt as he noticed Jane jostle right into one hunter in an attempt to barge. Watson gripped his shaft even more, ready for an attack.

The hunter stood firmly, allowing Jane to bombard him with assaults. But despite her hardest of efforts, she never could get past the hunter.

Watson finally approahced the encounter, and was wondering who to point the irons too. “What in the Waters do you think you’re doing attacking a hunter, Jane?!”

“What are you doing here interfering?” Jane asked. “Don’t you know already the Vicegerent is hiding secrets from us?”

“Jane, you really don’t have secrets, but superstitions. Get over yourself!” Watson noted. “This has gone way too far!”

“Commandant Watson,” the hunter noted. “Does she relate to you?”

“Not in the slightest but unfortunately she can’t handle herself much at her old age,” Watson said. “No better than I can, to be honest.”

“You know you’re helping cover up what the Vicegerent is most afraid of. Everyone knows that now!” Jane noted. “Get me to the Console Room up in Whitehall, and insist that he send a relief expedition up north. The ice has changed, the Arctic has changed over there. Why does he still not want to claim for Tridention the glory of the northwest passage? I will never know.”

“Jane, its been a very long time since that’s happened,” the hunter said. “The Vicegerent understands your grievances, but he has no interest in further glory for the city. We already have enough.”

“This is not the Waynian way,” Jane noted. “If anyone else was Vicegerent they would be up in arms about this. Other cities will go find the passages to the Arctic and explore those frozen waters by themselves. And when we starve, we will have nothing to blame but ourselves! And him!”

Watson quickly sheathed his harpoons, approaching Jane and grabbing her by the shoulders. “Jane, you’ve had enough,” Watson said. “Forget about this already. You’ll kill yourself stressing over this nonsensical expedition. Let’s just go home.”

“The folks of Tridention are already saying Jane has been trying to convince the Vicegerency to run this relief expedition for nearly a century,” the hunters noted.

“You’d think these lads did not have enough patience to deny me!” Jane insisted. “And they’d also think I don’t have enough patience to keep this up. Well I have more! And they know it!”

“Jane, please,” Watson said. “We don’t want anymore trouble. Let me go in and talk to the Vicegerent myself this time. I’ll make sure he knows what you want.”

“As if he doesn’t already know!” she insisted.

Watson slowly pulled Jane away from the jostled hunters and looked to them. “Lad, will you let me go meet the Vicegerent after I take her back home so she can calm down? There might be a way to work this out.”

“It would make all of our lives easier, certainly,” the hunter noted.

“Fine, let me just make sure she’s okay,” Watson insisted. “I wouldn’t particularly want her to stress herself out.”

“After all those years of us being neighbors you’d think you knew me better by now!”

“Jane, that’s enough!” Watson insisted. “We’re going home now,”

Watson yanked her away from them, and tried to bring her back to the square so they could go home. Jane tried to resist, but Watson’s grip was too strong. “Is this how you treat women? No wonder your wife left you,”

Watson almost reached for his irons, but quickly restrained himself. This isn’t what I think it is, Watson thought quickly. “Jane, please don’t cause anymore trouble. I’ll go talk to the Vicegerent, but I need to make sure you’re going to be fine, alright? Don’t you already realize that they’re being nice enough?”

“Of course they are, they wouldn’t dare hurt an old lady,” Jane said. “Unlike you.”

“They don’t want to bare the trouble of punishing an old lady, that’s what it is!” Watson insisted. “Especially after you’ve tormented them for so long. Such impeccable decorum, I have to give them that one.”

“If you fought for your wife like I fight for my husband, maybe your whole family would still be together,”

Watson stopped in his place, turned to face Jane and had the sternest of grins. “You know nothing about my family! So leave them out of it.”

“Why do you watch over me so much?”

“Do you know how many old people would be lucky to have someone look after them in this city the way I look after you,” Watson noted. “Listen, I know Franklin was dear to you. But that was over 170 years ago. Those days are long and over. You’ve literally created a myth in your own lifetime, one many people still have a hard time believing. Even I do. And the truth is, I can’t keep up my patience any longer. You already collapse enough times.”

“I’ve been doing this before you were even born,” Jane noted. “And it hasn’t killed me yet.”

“I’d rather not be there when it does,” Watson said. “I can’t keep this up forever. You know this, right?”

“I do,” Jane noted.

“If they decide to change their mind, or if you end up hurting yourself really bad, don’t expect me to help you when you need it,” Watson said. “You should be lucky someone still does. Because the entirety of Tridention is sick of you. I hope you realize that.”

Jane fumbled about before leaning on Watson’s shoulder. Then he escorted her past Tridention Square, and down the northwestern street. Right down that road, in the middle, was where she lived. Watson helped her get all the way there, and as they entered their house, Watson helped carry her across the house and allowed her to lie on her bed.

Watson lied her flat on her coral bed, but her lightness allowed her to float abit slightly above the ground. Watson restrained her buoyancy, then pressed her onto the bed until she could muster enough strength to keep the weight and fall asleep. Then she stared outwards to the ceiling, with her eyes wide opened. “You know, Watson,” Jane said. “I can’t begin to tell you what it’s like to be this old all the time.”

“It happens to all of us eventually, Jane,” Watson said. “And to be honest, it’s scary,”

“It would have frightened me many decades ago, but it didn’t,” Jane said. “I could simply sit somewhere, or lie on my bed, almost all day, wanting to sleep and nothing else. Struggling to move. Waiting until the day I die. And when that day finally comes, mayhaps I will regret it. But I choose not to. I choose to keep going.”

“And how do you keep going then?” Watson asked.

“You already know how,” Jane insisted.

“What in the Waters do you mean?”

“You only think it’s worth it to fight for someone when they are still alive?” Jane insisted. “Ever think that, even in death, their presence can affect lives, cities, Oceans?”

“When we die, we return to Nature,” Watson explained. “For from Nature we have come, and to Nature we shall return. You of all people should know.”

“I know more than you yet I still cling to these waters,”

“You have an admirably stubborn body, I’ll give you that one,” Watson said. “But even Franklin’s death did not affect everyone. Seems to have been only yours. Not mine. Not my daughter’s. Or anyone else’s in this city. Everyone has moved on after that ill-fated expedition over a century ago. People forget. People move on. People let go. You, who probably had more years in this world than anyone I can think of, instead chose to waste them. Lying on a bed. Fighting the authority for the chance to only prove the truth. The indiscernable truth, at that.”

“Oh if only your daughter knew,” Jane admitted.

“No time for that,” Watson noted. “I’m sorry, Jane,”

“You still have time, Watson,” Jane noted. “Don’t lose faith just yet.”

Watson turned to the open door and prepared to swim out of the house. “I’ll try not to,” Watson assured her. “Just stay out of trouble for me, will you?”

Watson waited for a response for a while. Hearing nothing, he simply left her to her whims. He hovered above the roads and surveyed the city in every corner and nook and cranny. From there, he started doing his rotations across the walls of Tridention. Taking in the grand visage of the city. With the bridge. The open doors of Whitehall. And all the facilities they had to offer. Watson rubbed his stomach as he hovered above the city, looking at it from top-down. “I should probably pass by the Slaughterhouses; I don’t think I even have any food in me left,” Watson noted.

During his descent, he surveyed the waters beyond just to make sure. There was nothing to be found, that wasn’t concealed in the blackening darkness of the waters beyond Tridention’s illuminating lights, which served as the beacon in the Indian Ocean. But deep-down, he longed for it.

He descended to the bottom and checked the Slaughterhouses to the far right. The avenue was empty. No queue stood before him and the shack. Iron clang onto iron and other surfaces. Watson heard the sound of flesh being torn from its source, presumably from those of other creatures. And it only made him hungrier.

Watson swam up to the shack at the Slaughterhouses, and merely slammed his fists onto the podium in front of him. He grinned as he waited, staring down at himself. I don’t even have the patience to wait. What is with people losing their shit as they get older? Watson asked himself. I don’t like this at all.

Someone swam out of the shack and greeted Watson. “Enjoying your swimming around the city at this hour?” he asked.

“You should try it every once in a while, Alphestes. Instead of staying near the Slaughterhouses cutting up animals all the time,”

“I don’t do that, you don’t eat,” he said.

“I bet you eat far more than I do, lad,” Watson said.

“I might. I might not.” Alphestes said. “I heard they really wanted you to retire.”

“The Vicegerency is merely concerned for safety, nothing more,” Watson said. “This city is too important for us to be sitting around doing nothing.”

“You’re too afraid of doing nothing,” Alphestes said.

“I’m too afraid of growing weary and old,” Watson said.

“Here to rant about Jane again?” Alphestes said.

“I will likely rant about Jane for as long as I live,” Watson said. “Suppose the Vicegerency is fully intent on keeping her alive. And with it, grounding me to the city and to the throes of a sedentary life.”

“Part of being in a city, for one,” Alphestes said.

“The hunters of old use to always swim about the Oceans because they needed to,” Watson argued. “Didn’t matter how old or how crippled you were. You had to get moving or something would eat you alive. Truth be told, if anything were to try and barge over our city walls it would still eat us alive. It just needed to have the gall to do that.”

“Bioluminescence staves them off,” Alphestes said. “Though to be fair, we just lure some critters to the city, then kill them, then eat them ourselves.”

“Sometimes,” Watson said. “Sometimes I wish I could feed Jane a puffer and end this misery.”

“So why don’t you?” Alphestes asked. “You’ve tolerated her for this long,”

“I would bare the brunt of that,” Watson said. “And I have a daughter to look after. So I won’t.”

“Noble,” Alphestes said.

“Circumstantial opportunist,” Watson said.

“That’s a nice way to put it,” he said. “You want your usual?”

“Just a few rations and I’ll be on my way,” Watson noted. “Would rather not die of hunger.”

Alphestes hovered over the shack, returning to the Slaughterhouse wares. When he came back, stacked above his two pair hands were piles of rations, encased in seaweed wrappings. He placed them on the shack. Watson could tell the rations were heavy since they did not float in front of him, nor slide off the edge of the podium. He picked them up. “Do me a favor, Watson. Don’t make all of Tridention go hungry for this.”

“That will be your problem, lad,” Watson insisted as he hovered over the ground and swam away.

Watson returned home having swam lightly with all rations in his hands, carrying the load such that it would not fall off of him. He dropped to the seafloor, just right in front of his house on the farthermost regions of Tridention, far away from Whitehall. Then he approached his door and dropped the rations on the floor. And while he did, he examined the house’s surroundings.

“You’re telling me it’s possible to endure the actual cold?” someone said.

As Watson dropped the rations onto the floor, he turned to examine the house. “Pisces, who are you talking to?” Watson asked.

The voice belonged to that of a young girl, who arose from the floor and turned to see Watson coming into the house. Watson immediately drew out his harpoons as Pisces slowly approached him. Then she cowered away. “What are you doing?!”

“What in the Waters are you doing?!” Watson asked. He raised his irons and pointed them at two other individuals in his house. Who had cowered away to the farthermost corners. They raied their hands, and shielded their faces right behind them. Defenseless and completely armless.

Watson cautiously treaded to them, keeping the irons aimed at their faces and hands. “What in the Waters are you two doing in my house?”

“I know this seems a little unorthodox, and I’m sorry,” he said. “We were looking for the house of a Commandant of the Tridention brigades. Any of them really. This little girl here said you were once a Commandant of one of the brigades. We were awaiting you.”

Watson turned to Pisces in shock. “You were talking to two strangers this whole time?!”

“They’re particularly friendly and are in need of help, they told me their story,” Pisces said.

“You don’t just let anyone into our house this easily!” Watson shouted. “I’m not going to give you lads long. Leave my house or I’ll thrust these irons down your throats!”

“Watson,” he said. “I know this might seem unusual. We apologize for suddenly intruding. But we are in dire need of your help. If you could at least give us some time to explain, then we can be on our way. At least point us to other Commandants in the brigade to give us assistance.”

“I’m afraid I was a Commandant,” Watson said. “Why do you need the help of a Commandant? And who in the Waters are you two?”

“I am Bergmann,” he said. “And this is Allen.”

“You two might look as thin as seaweeds but you aren’t getting any of my food, if that’s what your asking for,”

“We only want support to get a relief expedition up north,” Bergmann said. “To the Arctic.”

“The Arctic?” Watson asked.

“This will sound very hard to explain, but I need you to bare with me for a moment,” Allen said. “You see, Bergmann and I, we were hunters on a brigade too. We’re the last two of a brigade that went on a dreary expedition north, long ago. We might be the only two who survived, but we’re not sure. Much has changed now, and we don’t remember much of it. And it’s because we’ve been gone for a long time.”

“A very long time indeed,” Bergmann said.

“How long?” Watson asked.

Bergmann arose on his two feet, dropped his harpoons onto the floor so he was unarmed, walked up to Watson’s harpoon irons so that they literally touched his throat muscles. Then he stood there and confronted him. “Over 170 years,” he said