Ian first crewed a fishing boat at ten.  He followed his dad up the gangplank and stood quietly while his father spoke to the boat’s owner then shook the captain’s callused hand as he was introduced.  His job was fairly easy, scuttling around the rolling deck of the small boat scooping up fish and dropping them into the well.  It was easy to learn, but by the end of the first run he was exhausted.

When the captain counted out the three $20 dollar bills into his hand his mind raced at the possible things he would buy and when his father told him they would be going out again in two day, Ian was delighted.  By the end of the summer he’d made enough money to buy his own diving gear and that summer he took lessons and was the youngest to qualify for his diver’s certificate in ten years. 

All his life Ian had heard the tales of sunken treasure from his father and every summer his dad would disappear out into the Long Island Sound in his ragged old dive boat and return with some small collection of artifacts recovered from the sea.  The thought of skimming the bottom of the Sound, questing fingers filtering the sand, was the most exciting thing the boy could imagine.  Now he had his own gear, and his ticket to dive.  This year he would join his father in his annual hunt for sunken gold.

Six years later they were still searching, but with a better boat, purchased with their combined wages on the fishing boats.  Their gear had improved and new side-scan sonar had just been added.  They’d combed the Sound and had this year decided to move up the coast after hearing a tale of very old wood coming ashore after a recent storm.

The North Atlantic was calm, gentle swells of only a foot or two and the dive boat rode easy at her anchor.  They were investigating their seventh anomaly that day and had been down only a few minutes when all the years of searching paid off.  Ian’s father, three feet to Ian’s left, was combing the sand with his fingers as the boy swept their path with a hand-held metal detector.  His sudden halt brought the boy up short and he watched as his father fumbled with something small in the sand.

Ian saw the glint of gold as his dad lifted a quarter inch thick chain from the bottom and the boy’s excitement fell as he relaxed.  It was just some jewelry fallen from a passing boat.  He returned his attention to the detector but an explosive burst of bubbles from his father made him spin in place, hand going to the diver knife at his boot.

The older Manes hovered a few inches off the sand holding up a jewel encrusted cross of intricate design.  There was triumph in his eyes as he shook it at the boy.  Ian glided closer and saw the etching that had decorated the gold had been worn smooth in many places but the brilliant clear stones appeared only slightly algae coated.  There were ten stones, two at each arm of the cross with a third on the bottom leg.  At the center was a stone the size of an egg yoke.  Ian flashed a thumb’s up to his father and the older man tucks the cross into the bag at his waist.

With renewed energy the two returned to their task, concentrating on the area around the cross’s resting place.  Spiraling out each covered the other’s path, double checking to be sure they did not over look anything good.  They stayed on site until their tanks ran dry and on the emergency reserve they began their ascent.

As they drifted up shadow passed over them.  At first Ian figured it was a cloud but when the gloom did not drift away he stopped and looked up, assuming they were under the hull of their boat.  The shadow was not their boat, nor any other boat.  Whatever it was must have been hovering in mid-air as the reflective bottom surface of the sea showed nothing but the shadow.

Ian caught his father’s leg and gestured that they swim out from under the shadow.  Though on the reserve, they had plenty of time and something about the unseen craft above gave Ian the shivers.  After a few minutes of swimming it began to look as if whatever it was had to be huge.  They still swam in the gloom.

His father stopped and pushed the bag with the cross into the boy’s hands.  Then gesturing for the boy to wait, slowly drifted up with the barest kick of his fins.  Ian lay on his back and watched as his father’s head broke the surface.  His dad jerked then something dark began to spread.  There was a splash as something hit the water a few yards away and instantly began to sink.  Ian choked in horror as he realized it was his father’s head.

Rage overcame horror as Ian surged to the surface with a powerful kick.  The sun glinted off the mirror-bright layer of metal that had formed over his skin as his body rocketed over half his height into the air.  Above him hovered a gigantic robot and by instinct he thrust his hands up and dagger-like claws punched through the bottom of the hovering giant’s foot.

Ian pulled himself up, not realizing his very arms had lengthened over ten meters to reach the monster.  Guessing the boy’s intent, the robot thrust out his leg as if kicking a ball and Ian lost his grip.  As he reached the top of the arc the robot had launched him on, Ian saw the explosion that tore a car sized hole through the chest of the metal monster.  A figure rocketed over the falling giant, heading straight at Ian.  Just before he hit the water face first, a slender hand reached out and grabbed the harness of his air tank.  Trying to twist around Ian could only catch a glimpse of his savior.

“If you do not stop shworming I would drop you!”  The voice sounded like that of a young girl and Ian hung limp in his harness.

Finding his voice he said “Who are you?”

There was a girlish giggle above him.

“I am Sunny, who are you?”

“Sunny?” Ian said.

“No, no, I AM Sunny, who are you?”

“PUT ME DOWN,” he yelled, starting to struggle again “MY DAD!”

“But if I do this you will be eaten by the robots,” the girl told him.  “They follow even now.”

It was far easier to glance back to see the two looming robots then up to see the girl around his air tank.  Suddenly he was very afraid.

“They killed my father,” his hissed.

“And they will do the same to you if they caughted you up.”

The coast of Long Island became a visible smudge on the horizon and the girl skimmed the wave tops while making a beeline for the land.

“They are gaining,” Ian had calmed finally remembering the silver plates that had formed on his body and the darts his fingers had become.  “Drop me off on shore.” He said coldly.  “I have a score to settle with those monsters.”

“Nope, nope, nope,” the girl said cheerfully.  “I am taking you to school where you will get better.”

Sand flashed below them and she rose slightly to clear a copse of stunted pine trees.

“Okay, Aaron, we are clean,” the girl said.

The world shifted around them and the girl pulled up hard, stopping a foot above a lush green carpet of grass.  Without warning, she dropped Ian and landed behind him.  Staggering only slightly under the weight of his scuba gear, Ian turned, lifting his mask to face the girl.

His eyes grew wide and his mouth dropped open as he tried to find his voice.  She was exactly six feet tall and weighted exactly 140 pounds.  Her sun golden hair cascaded down her perfectly formed body to the small of her back.  Sky blue eyes regarded him and her smile seemed to flash in the sunlight.

Her body, bronze with a healthy sun warmed glow was artfully painted with patches of sky blue that matched her eyes.  Two patches formed a mask over her eyes and covering both ears.  A second set of blue marked each shoulder and a line ran down her arms to a double headed arrow shape at her wrists.  Between her small, high breasts and to her naval another double headed arrow had been painted, one pointing up to her face while the other pointed down to her . . . Her sides and hips, along the outside and both knees had jagged designs and he wished she would turn around so he could see her back and butt. 

Ian blinked and the vision remained. 

It took him a second to realize that she was actually wearing clothes, well, cloth.  Her most intimate places were barely covered by a bathing suit type thing that only a sex-crazed MALE clothing designer could have imagined.  The suit was blood red, the top forming a diagonal line just over the tops of her breasts then forming triangles down to her ribs and around her back.  The triangles did actually cover her breasts, at least the tops but left the undersides exposed and the bottom corners were attached to the bottom which was nothing more than a tiny triangle of red between her legs.  This stunning girl had snatched him out of the air as if he’d been a balloon.

“Ahem,” the deep male voice made him jump and without thought silver plates appeared on his body.  Whirling, his hands came up and metallic claws extended from his fingers.

“I see you have met Sunny,” he said, unperturbed by Ian’s sudden show of steel.

The man was a good four inches taller than the girl and he smiled at her, jade green eyes sparkling.

“Thanks, Sunny,” he said and the girl stepped around Ian to hug the man very enthusiastically.

Ian gasped as he saw her back.  It was even better than he’d imagined.

“I go play with my pussy,” she said sweetly and streaked away leaving a golden trail of light.

The man chuckled and held out a handkerchief.

“Her kitten,” he said.  “Wipe the drool off your chin.”

Ian flushed and scowled.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Ghost Archer,” the man said, offering his hand.  “And I am very sorry about your father, Ian Manes.”