I wandered on, asking myself what I expected of this visit and getting nothing but a vague sense of uneasiness by way of an answer.
Past the Mayan Temple of the Sun I strolled, alone in the ageless city. Past the Parthenon and the great golden reclining Buddha that seemed to be grinning at me, knowingly. I walked through the city from one side to the other until I was at the base of the massive pyramid of Khufu, out beyond the Colossus of Rhodes.
I turned the corner of the great pyramid and there was the ocean, clean and glittering beneath the sun, waves washing up on the beach with curls of froth as they broke gently against the sand. The sea called to me and I walked into it, wading up to my hips before I slid in and began swimming slowly out toward the distant horizon.
“Welcome, friend Orion,” said a dolphin that popped up beside me. “We are happy to see you back among us.”
“Back among you?” I asked.
I saw that I was surrounded by the grinning sea mammals, gray and sleek and each as big as five men or more. It was no surprise to me that I understood their clicks and whistles. But I was surprised that they understood my tongue.
“It’s been a long time since we hunted the fast-darting tuna together,” said the nearest dolphin.
“Or went diving to the lair of the giant squid,” said another.
“Where are the Creators?” I asked. “Do you know?”
“The other two-legs? They have been gone for long ages, Orion.”
“They aren’t much fun. They argue among themselves most of the time.”
“They forget that we can hear them. Our sense of hearing is very acute.”
“I know,” I said, grinning back at them as I treaded water.
“Come!” said the nearest one. “There’s a whole school of tuna not more than five kilometers from here. Let’s feast on them!”
“Wait!” I begged. “I can’t swim that far.”
“No need for you to swim, friend Orion. Ride on my back the way you used to so many tides ago.”
“If you don’t mind carrying me…”
“Of course not! One hunter to another, we are all friends here in the sea.”
So I slid one leg across his smooth back and clutched his dorsal fin with both my hands and off we went on a wild splashing ride, the dolphin racing powerfully, smoothly through the ocean, dipping down below the surface to run as fast as possible, then sliding up to blow steamy stale air through his vent and pull in a gulp of fresh air with a wet sucking noise. I did the same each time he popped to the surface. If the individual dolphins had names I never learned them; they seemed to know each other without the need for such tags.
They said I had gone hunting with them before, that we were old friends. I had no memory of it whatsoever, but I did not let that interfere with my enjoyment of this wild splashing ride through the ocean. The water was clear as air down to a considerable depth, with the sun lighting it up. If it weren’t for the bubbles and the swarms of colorful fish darting all around us, I would not have thought we were underwater.
And then would come the splashing, frothing moment of breaking the surface, taking a fresh gulp of air. And then down below we would go again, sliding along smoothly on the powerful strokes of their tails.
Soon enough we came to the tuna school, big silver-gray sleek speedsters who turned and fled at the approach of the tribe of dolphins. Fast as the tuna were, though, the dolphins were faster. We split up into several smaller groups, circling around the school of tuna to set up a trap, much as the Mongols did on their great hunts each year. I slid free of my mount and hovered with a few of the older dolphins, treading water as I waited for the circlers to drive the prey toward us.
“Don’t let them get past you!” my friend clicked gleefully as he dashed off. Underwater, I could not reply to him.