Even from thousands of feet in the
air, Lake Huron was enormous. Superior and Michigan got all the attention, but
Huron was actually the number two lake. They were all so gigantic that they had
shipping lanes, like seas. A number of ships sailed on these lanes, carrying
cargo, some shuttling passengers, and there were always more recreational boats
out on the water.
I used a cloudboard to surf down to
the southern end of Great Duck Island. It was a tiny island, even for the Great
Lakes, but it was undeveloped and was the agreed-on meeting point.
Unfortunately, she didn’t know I was coming. A few calls had just been met with
voice mail, which meant that she was likely underwater.
I waded into the frigid water,
cursing every inch I sank in.
People
who swim in this are insane. Just get
it done, fast.
Deep inside me, lightning surged
and tumbled around in my gut. I was going to let it out, but had to change it,
first. A pinpoint lightning strike would kill a lot of the fish wherever it
hit, but that wasn’t what I was going for. What I needed was for a
well-branched lightning that would dissipate throughout most of the lake. I
slipped my hands into the water, shivering, but then concentrated, imagining
the path the lightning would take. It was harder with the water, which
constantly shifted. Even though air constantly shifted, it wasn’t as dense,
making it easier to keep the ionic channels intact.
Perfect wasn’t necessary, though,
and I even wanted the lightning to go its own way as much as possible. I just
didn’t want it concentrated enough to kill anyone. Finally, it was as good as I
was going to get, and I let out a massive discharge into the water. There was
no flash of light or boom of thunder since I was already in the water, not even
a pop or sizzle. One moment it was inside me, the next it had exited out my
fingers. I repeated it two more times for a total of three pulses, one short,
one long, one short.
I pulled myself out of the freezing
water and sat on the gravelly beach. Waiting.
I
hate this part.