Free In World City by I. F. Godsland

mountain torrent poured into. She knelt down and, with cupped hands, took great splashing mouthfuls of the cold, clear water. Dion came up beside her and took a few gulps himself. Then he lay flat on his stomach and, elbowing his way out over the water, he let his whole head drop beneath its surface. He held his breath as long as he could, then levered himself up, shaking his head vigorously.
    â€œYou’re making me wet,” Miranda laughed, holding a hand up to stop the drops flying in her face.
    â€œBest way to cool down,” Dion said, “Get your head under. All the heat goes out through the top of your head.”
    He nodded towards the water encouragingly, but Miranda looked awkward and a little nervous. Dion realised it took a certain amount of strength and skill to be able to do what he had just done. “‘Fraid of falling in?” he questioned. “Don’t worry, I’ll hold onto your feet.”
    Miranda laughed. “No it’s not that. I just don’t like the thought of putting my head under the water.”
    â€œWell, go for a swim then. I’ve swum here plenty of times. You got to jump in all in one go. Takes your breath away at first, but after that it’s great. I won’t look if you want to take your clothes off. Seriously, I won’t. I want you to enjoy this place. It’s my best.”
    Miranda rose slowly to her feet and looked around, as if she hadn’t heard him. Using her hands to steady herself, she climbed a little further down the slope, where the stream poured out from the pool and over rocks into a series of channels and small cataracts. Dion clambered quickly after and came up beside her. Miranda was kneeling on a flat rock, staring into the clear, glassy surface of the water.
    â€œWait, I’ll show you something,” Dion said and ducked into the undergrowth. He cast around in the foliage for what he wanted: a long-stemmed plant with a little tassel of leaves on the end. Finding it just where he expected, he snapped off a stem and rejoined Miranda.
    â€œLook. Watch the end of it,” he said, dipping the tassel into the water. He lowered the feathery end of the stem carefully to just in front of a small cleft in the rock and held it there, letting the current agitate the leaves. There was a sudden flurry of silt from the rock crevice as a good-sized crayfish shot out and gripped the tassel. In almost the same movement, Dion lifted the stem and held the crayfish up in the air. It wriggled furiously but refused to let go.
    Miranda giggled in nervous excitement. “What a funny animal. I’m glad I didn’t go for a swim with all those around. They might have nipped me.”
    â€œIt’s a crayfish,” Dion said. “They don’t live up in the pool there. They just go where the water’s running fast, like here. They’re great to eat, fresh cooked, like crab. We’ll put this one back though. Maybe it’ll get bigger still and I’ll eat it next time.” He noted carefully the crack in the rocks it had come out from.
    â€œAre you sure there aren’t any up in the pool?”
    â€œDead sure. You want to swim? You do, don’t you. You look hot as hell. Come on, I’ll go behind that rock there and you tell me when I can come out. I’ll just have a sleep or something.”
    Dion didn’t wait for any answer. He simply went behind the rock and lay down against it, facing away from the pool. He put his hands behind his head as a cushion against the hardness of the rock and, through half-closed lids, gazed unfocused into the patterns of green and sunlight. There was a brief silence then he heard the soft rustle of falling clothes. “Don’t forget,” he called out, “You got to go straight in. Don’t even put your toe in else you’ll never make it.”
    Somewhat to his surprise and pleasure he heard a sudden splash and a loud squeal. He hadn’t