Of Poseidon

same, if I weren’t already sitting. We both scowl at the lighted screen. As I stare at it, playing musical X-rays with my eyes, I see it. The three sharp images become a single blurry one. Human and Syrena bones melt together until there’s only one image on the entire screen: mine. A combination of the two.
    “It’s possible,” Galen says quietly.
    Dr. Milligan leans against the wall, curiosity lighting up his face. “It’s happened before,” he says, lacing his fingers together, probably to keep from fidgeting. “You’ve heard of it, haven’t you?”
    Galen nods. He turns to me. “It’s the main reason for the Great War. The reason we have two territories,” he tells me. “Thousands of years ago, Poseidon decided to live on land with the humans. Interaction wasn’t outlawed then, just sort of frowned upon. The humans revered him as one of their gods, sacrificing animals to him, making ridiculous flattering statues of him. They even built a city for him, and the Syrena who joined him on land. Tartessos, they called it.”
    “Atlantis?” Dr. Milligan breathes, a hand over his chest.
    Galen nods. “Some humans called it that at first.” He turns back to me. “Poseidon enjoyed living with the humans. He permitted his followers to mate with them. Even Poseidon chose a human mate, against his brother Triton’s wishes. Triton believed the humans were poisonous and destructive, and that mating with them was unnatural. As a show of his disapproval, he divided the territories; the Triton territory became home for those who didn’t approve of humans, the Poseidon territory for those of the opposite opinion. Poseidon ignored his brother and continued as he saw fit, using his gift to feed the growing population of Tartessos. Unfortunately, the human mate he chose belonged to someone else, a human king.”
    “What human king?” Dr. Milligan asks, picking up his discarded metal stool and brushing it off as if it accumulated dust balls since his last sitting.
    Galen shrugs. “I don’t know.” He turns to me again, a wry smile on his face. “Don’t care either. We Tritons tend to dislike humans.”
    “Not a very good attitude for an ambassador,” I tell him. “But don’t worry. I won’t tell Dr. Milligan. Or Rachel.”
    Galen grins. “Anyway, the human king sent something like half his army to collect his ‘belongings.’ He gained support from other human kingdoms by telling stories of enslavement and unnatural breeding of humans. When the armies arrived, they killed everyone in sight, even some of Poseidon’s own half-human children. To stop the carnage, Poseidon appealed to Triton for help against the humans. Triton agreed to help, with one stipulation: Poseidon had to abandon his city and promise to live as Syrena from then on. He agreed. Triton used his gift to create great waves that destroyed the city, the half-breeds, and the human armies. There were no survivors. After that, the generals agreed to help each other against the humans. Breeding with them became outlawed, the offspring of such a union viewed as an abomination.” Galen hesitates on the last word, probably because he knows it’s a direct insult to me, assuming I’m really a Half-Breed. Somehow, though, I’m not insulted. The way he told the story was more a formal recital than telling it in his own words. It makes me think he doesn’t believe it or, at least, doesn’t believe parts of it. Also, the way he’s looking at me right now hardly makes me feel like an “abomination.”
    “I thought the war was between the kingdoms,” I tell him. “Not against the humans.”
    Galen shakes his head. “We’ve never warred against each other. Not physically anyway.” An unfamiliar emotion flickers across his face, then disappears like the flash of a camera.
    “So, that’s Triton’s Gift? To control the sea?” I ask.
    “No,” Galen says, scratching his neck. “At least, not exactly. We don’t know how he did it. Some say strength, that he cracked the earth and that caused the waves. Some say he did it with speed. We don’t know. It’s been a long time since a Royal inherited the Gift of Triton. So long that the Archives disagree on what that Gift is.”
    For a few moments we sit in silence, engrossed in the ghost of Galen’s story, of everything said and of things unsaid. And the more I think about it, the angrier I get. “So, I don’t belong anywhere?” I say, jolting them from wakeful slumber.
    “What’s