FREEDOM: Chapter 2

    Ikky felt terrified. For three days Tiuk had been igniting primal fears in her by keening in the wee hours of the morning, shrieking about how they were all doomed to die in the depths and never know the comfort of human hands again. Honestly, Ikky wished she had the courage to rake her grandmother. She's old and crusty as ever, I bet I could take her. But when she approached her with that in mind, her size frightened her into hiding in another pool, far away from her grandmother.

    Cheese had taken to following her around after the news had hit the pods, as their mother was simply too stressed to pay attention to her calf. And it was all Tiuk's fault, for worrying them for something that most likely would never happen. There's no way the humans will put us back. They like us too much, she thought angrily, slapping at a toy that was half-dunked in the chlorinated water. Cheese copied the action and followed after her.

    "Big sis," He chirped, "What is the ocean like?"

    Ikky smiled in her orca-y way. "Well, it's the widest pool you ever saw. There's no concrete keeping us in, you can jump out of the water without being told, there are no humans feeling you up-and-down all hours of the day. You can leap up and catch birds midair without the Keepers discouraging you, you can have calves wherever you want and whenever you want, and you hunt real food - not rotted stuff."

    This, naturally, was what Ikky was told, and what she made up by herself. She had no idea what a rotted fish was like, and just assumed that was what she was eating. But nonetheless, it had the desired effect on Cheese, and his eyes lit up eagerly.

    "And we're going there? Soon?" He asked in excitement.

    "Probably not," Ikky grunted angrily. "They love to keep us in these stupid prisons, for the entertainment of their calves," She said irritably, nudging a pool-ring at the bottom of their enclosure. It rolled for a few runs, and then fell still just over the filter. She nosed at it again, still talking. "And when the calves aren't there, we just are expected to sleep until they come back."

    "You should appreciate what you have!" A stern female voice snapped, making Ikky look up. Kirby was there, glowering at both children with fervor. "Telling your brother your silly stories of the ocean, I take it?"

    "They aren't silly!" Ikky whined, while trying to sound as mature as possible, rising up to face her mother. She could feel the hefty thumps of children beating their hands on the windowpanes. She winced.

    "They are," Kirby reprimanded, "They're fake, and silly, and false. You've never been in the ocean, never seen it, never lived it like your grandmother has."

    Ikky narrowed her eyes. "So what? You didn't experience it either!" She said, blowing herself a few bubbles of anger.

    "I didn't, but Tiuk did," She spat, "And you see how she is. Look at your poor rostrum for a jog of the memory."

    Ikky broke eye contact, overwhelmed with embarrassment at the incident. "Well, that's cuz she's a crazy old matriarch. Why do I care? It was probably a once-in-a-lifetime experience. She just got lucky."

    A hefty fluke smashed across the space above her blowhole and sent her spinning. She keened in pain and swam to the surface for a gulp of air, for the hit had panicked her, and she didn't want to accidentally breathe in.

    "What was that for?" Ikky cried, staring in horror at her mother, who was swimming to the surface.

    "Tiuk is the oldest, the wisest, and the worldliest of all the orcas here. If we lose her, we lose everything we ever knew about the ocean." She said in what could only be described as a growl.

    "Not if you keep telling your calves stories of the ocean she passed down," Ikky said matter-of-factly, blowing air out of her blowhole in a final sort of way.

    "But then they're skewed by little tale-weavers like you," Kirby snorted. "And we don't want the ocean to become some heavenly place where nothing wrong ever happens. That's false."

    "You don't know that."

    Kirby moved to respond, but suddenly there was a disturbance in the water. Someone was speaking above the surface, and Ikky spyhopped to hear it clearly while seeing who it was. It was one of the more skittish Keepers, a short blonde with a stocky build, who looked hysterical when she spooked. She was particularly scared of Ikky. Why is she here?

    "Kirby!" The girl cried. "Kirby, come here! Come here sweetie!" She cried, splashing the water with her ankles and feet. An ankle bracelet jangled temptingly on her left leg. It took all of Ikky's willpower not to go and try to pull it off for herself, just to make that noise by herself.

    Kirby slipped over and hopped on the ledge that had suddenly appeared. The water lurched below her belly as she was settled into a soft-looking sac of fabric, with the young woman petting and kissing and snuggling Kirby like a dog.

    And then, Kirby began to lift. Slowly she dissapeared out of the water, and into the air she went. Kirby let out a cry of confusion and terror, thrashing her flukes in an attempt to get away.

    "Mama!" Cheese cried, leaping as high as he could out of the water vertically - it wasn't much higher than a human could jump off the ground, honestly, but it probably felt like a great flight to the calf. "Mama, come back! Gulls fly, not orcas!"

    "I'm trying!" Kirby cried before looking at the humans, who were offering no words of advice. "I'm not in calf, I promise - I promise!" She tried to bargain, but the humans listened none too closely.

    "They don't understand you, dear!" Tiuk cried, her voice cracked with age, as she swam up beside Ikky and Cheese.

    "Why not?" Kirby asked, her voice taught with terror and fear.

    "Because," Tiuk said softly, "I don't know why. Stay calm and they won't handle you too harshly." She cried.

    "Are we going to the ocean?" Cheese asked in excitement as another orca - Flips! - was lifted, screeching and flailing, from his pool.

    "Yes, little Cheese, we are." Tiuk sighed in fear. "I'm afraid the life of leisure you once knew is coming to a close." She swam backward, waiting for the sling to come back empty. It drained water and splashed it into the pool. This time, the young blonde was calling for Cheese, which made the still-slightly-orange baby nervous.

    "Not much we can do about it," Ikky said, suddenly solemn. "Go ahead, little brother. Adventure, right? To the ocean!"

    Cheese glanced sidelong at his sister. "Are you sure?" He asked softly, his pecs swiveling a wee bit.

    "Of course," Ikky laughed softly, "Who tells you all those ocean stories?" She gently nudged his bum, pushing him toward the sling. "Mama's probably worried about you."

    Cheese gave her a last glance before swimming over to the young woman. One by one, each orca was taken from the enclosure, until they were all settled in different trucks. They seemed to go in shifts, and Ikky was taken in the last one, along with Tippy, Tiuk, and another unusually massive female named Montana. Ikky felt motion-sick through the entire trip, with the shaking of the great truck and the constant bump and grind of the unseen road, as well as the instinctive feeling of movement. She even vomited once when it simply grew to be too much for her stomach to bear, mixed with stress and confusion.

    Eventually they did let her out, after sharing comforting words and giving her something that settled her belly (which included rubbing her belly occasionally - that was nice). Despite her lifelong hatred for humanity, she couldn't deny their kindness. But as they opened the truck and hoisted her out with a crane, she got a steady birds-eye-view of the world she was entering. It was the most beautiful, luminous, gorgeous, fantastic, and terrifying thing she'd ever seen.

    It was endless water!