Climatic Climacteric Omnibus

by L. B. Carter

  It was a cool early-autumn day.

  “Well,” Sirena piped up. “Even if there isn’t, I’d bet Stew is on our tail now. Even without a tracker, he can get Jen’s mom’s help.”

  Jen shook her head, pulling the thermal over her head. Reed blinked, freed from Jen’s hypnosis, disappointed. “More like Professor Hutchins, but I agree. Looks like we’re heading west with these fine and upstanding gentlemen,” she said from inside the material. “I guess you’re not fired. Yet.”

  Secretly, Henley gave a relieved sigh. She wasn’t sure she trusted the Bus yet, especially with the likelihood his contact was defunct. However, her family was at the end of all this chaos. She’d joined this endeavor to leave BSTU behind. She wasn’t turning around no matter how winding or blocked the metaphorical road was.

  Jen’s head popped free and she lifted her hair free from the shirt neck. “Well, gang, let’s hit the road. But I am not driving this time.” Using the removed shirt to mop the blood from her face, she sat back in the trunk, scuttling back and crossing her legs, wrists on knees.

  “You can have shotgun and thank me for letting you wear my shirt with some—” A bloody shirt smacked Reed in the face, halting his improper suggestion.

  ◆◆◆

  Without Jen’s prone body, they had more space to spread out in the car, Jen and Henley taking the back seats that popped out of the trunk floor, Sirena and Buster in the middle, and Reed and Nor once again in the front. It was their vehicle.

  “You gonna tell us where we’re heading now, bud?” Reed asked, as if Buster had been the one forestalling their course. “Or should I go straight forever?”

  Henley watched Buster’s teeth grind. “We need to get back on the highway.”

  “No way. That was a perfect way for us to make easy time overtaking your trail. We don’t want our followers to do that too.”

  Followers. It was such an ambiguous word for an entire institution with extensions into public forces, like wires snaking out into the walls, with more specific feeders of Jen’s mom and— “Who’s Stew?”

  “Kid from my school,” Sirena answered. Well, that didn’t sound so bad.

  “A high school student?”

  “Yes and no,” Jen hedged. “Yes, he was a high school student—”

  “But the smartest one there. Valedictorian,” Sirena said. Another Buster?

  “—but he was also doing some work for one of my mom’s colleagues, Professor Hutchins—and that’s the guy who made Sirena the marvel she is.”

  Sirena was unimpressed. “I thought you said I was your mom’s baby.”

  “Yeah, but he was surrogate—only because she can’t do the genomes or the lab work. The idea was hers—your conception. Hence her terrible attachment to you.”

  “So Stew is also a BS-TUrtle?” Henley referred to BSTU students by the name they’d given themselves.

  “Yes and no,” Jen’s head tipped back and forth on her neck. If she had whiplash, the stiffness hadn’t developed yet. She sounded like Buster with her indecisiveness. “He’s an accepted student, being an overachiever with his so-called research beforehand as a sort-of bartering tool.”

  “What research?” Henley was intrigued, despite Jen’s disgust of the kid.

  “Stalking me.” Sirena punched the back of Reed’s seat.

  “Hey! What did I do? I’m no Stew.”

  “No,” she granted, “but you stalked me, too.”

  Reed nodded emphatically. “You are very welcome. We accept all kinds of payment—”

  Sirena spoke over him with an eye roll. “Anyway, he’s definitely not going to give up on me. If what Jen says is true, he just brought me back to BSTU. He’s going to be infuriated with himself—and you guys—that I escaped. According to Nor, he thinks I’m his ticket to fame and fortune, insofar as being a minion to a prestigious professor goes.” She glanced at her three original companions. “No offense.”

  “None taken, I’m getting out of that world,” Jen denounced.

  “Likewise, obviously,” Henley seconded. “So you’re saying we have three different tails though all connected?”

  “Three?”

  “Stew, the people Buster and I ditched, and Jen’s mom.” Henley tilted her head at her seatmate.

  “Won’t she just rely on Stew?” Nor asked. “Since he’s working with her colleague.”

  “You clearly haven’t worked with academics,” Jen dismissed with hearty disdain—about the subject, not to whom she was speaking. It was hard to keep up with who she liked and disliked. “They are spiteful, competitive, back-stabbing a-hats.”

  “Our mother was an academic. I helped her in her lab. She was always very generous and supportive of the other scientists.” Nor’s voice was quiet but somehow that made it all the sharper.

  “Oh. Well, you must have gotten the golden anomaly.” Jen had little sympathy.

  Nor nodded. “She was.”

  Jen winced. “Was?” She seemed reluctant to ask.

  “Same explosion that took Val.” Reed’s comment had no inflection though Henley had borne witness to his earlier strife. It made all the more sense now. The resurrection, so to speak, of Val’s death also roused grief for his mother.

  “What? Val is dead?” Jen’s shock overrode any modicum of sympathy she might have used to not delve further on her train of thought.

  “We discussed this while you were unconscious.” Buster took over. “I have other contacts.”

  “What?” The shout erupted from Henley this time. “You certainly did not say that before when we were deliberating directions. Why must you insist on secrets?” She glared at the back of his head. His black hair was greasy on the crown and irregular lengths, dipping as low as the collar of his shirt. Did he ever get it cut?

  “You two are like yin and yang. I swear. We’re never going to make it with you two ragging on each other, let alone my mom and Stew.” Jen’s eyes volleyed between Henley and Buster.

  “Sometimes opposites attract,” Nor volunteered.

  “Like Mother and Father,” Reed agreed.

  “Magnetically, atomically, and molecularly, that is factually true,” Buster stated, blandly. “It is incorrect for humans who seek out similarity for reassurance in conformity.”

  While Henley agreed with his physics, she did avow, “In our case, it seems to be. Can’t get rid of you.” Her head tilted as she thought. “That makes sense, everything seems contrary to common normalcy with you.”

  There was a moment of uncomfortable silence.

  “I’m hungry,” Jen announced.

  “Again?” Buster was exasperated.

  “Breaking out of a high-security institution, stealing cars, driving on a high-speed chase, sleeping for only a few hours, running from intruders, and getting into a car accident only to wake up in said intruder’s car and try to run… it’s all exhausting. Cumulatively, it’s a wonder I’m not dead. I don’t recommend that kind of daily schedule.”

  “I stole the cars,” Henley pointed out.

  “I bought you food in the middle of that,” Buster added.

  Jen flapped her wrist. “Like one sandwich. And bought? You used my money.”

  “Stolen money.”

  “Family money. Families share. That was not enough fuel to support all that excitement.”

  “We can’t stop,” Buster insisted.

  “Regretfully, I agree with the robot.”

  Henley started until she realized Reed was talking about Buster.

  “However, we happened to have loaded up our car before Sirena was taken from us, so we have some supplies.” Reed sat up taller to flash a grin in the rear-view mirror.

  “Oh, tell me it’s Goldfish! Or Cheez-its. Cheetos? Really anything cheesy and carb-loaded.” Jen suddenly turned into a toddler, bouncing in her seat.

  “I’d rather no fish,” Sirena said, nose scrunching.

  “No fish or cheese, but fear not. We’ve got something much more helpful for someone who’s had s
uch a rough day as yours,” Reed pampered. “Nor, please display our offerings with a flourish.”

  Nor didn’t quite comply—he simply hefted a giant tub that was between their seats into the air. He was less thrilled than his brother.

  “Meal-replacement protein powder?” Henley read.

  “Damn straight. Highest protein content to lowest calorie pack. And all the vitamins and minerals you need. And the chocolate flavor,” Reed exalted.

  “Hurray,” Jen droned. “And what, are we supposed to just take turns dumping a scoop of powder in our mouths and hope the saliva breaks it down? Sounds like eating chalk.”

  Reed shook his head, pulling onto the entry ramp of the freeway. He had decided to follow Buster’s instructions even though he thought they would be followed faster? Buster was back in control. He must be positively gushing with joy. “You may have noticed in your fit earlier that we were considerate enough to also pack water bottles.”

  Jen didn’t even blush. “Perfect, then I can build up my muscle before I smack you with it again.”

  The engine volume rose as their speed escalated.

  Unfortunately, it didn’t drown out Jen’s next words, delivered nonchalantly into the conversation like a bulldozer down a country lane as Nor began passing around water bottles that were rolling around the floor.

  “But actually, we need to be sparing with that water. We’re heading into the drought-stricken part of the country.”

  ◆◆◆

  Henley’s nose was pressed to the window. She was transfixed by the golden color of their surroundings saturating her vision: golden sun as it started to set over the flat horizon; crispy golden stalks of grains waving in a hazy breeze that were so densely packed they looked like wires wrapped around a coil; golden gravel on the roadsides beyond the highway barrier; golden wood desperately supporting leaning barns and little farmhouses; golden faces of dust-coated people walking down dirt tracks between the fields or poking out of rolled-down windows of only slightly darker-shaded pick-up trucks. The monochrome was somewhat peaceful, beautiful even, with that luster of the precious metal she used so often in her work. Wiring itself was very zen. “It looks so—”

  “Lifeless,” Jen supplied.

  At the macabre description, Henley’s vision darkened as though the sun had set in that instant, filtering out the brightness: the empty, cadaverous husks of dried plants leaned tiredly back and forth, helplessly, wearily, crisped by sunlight; the dust sifted through the air aimlessly, no soil or vegetation to hold it to a home; the droop on the people’s faces matched the tilt of the sagging roofs and walls of their houses.

  “No wonder the popcorn was expensive.” Not that she had paid for it. “I had attributed that to inflation during my time locked up in BSTU.” Locked up felt like the right phrase for what she was now categorizing as a prison sentence with inmate work duty. In opposition to a real criminal rehabilitation program, it had ill prepared her for life on the outside; she was more criminal now.

  The others began to wake groggily from their long-drive slumbers at the rejuvenated conversation. While Henley had been tired, she hadn’t been able to look away from the scenery beyond campus.

  Jen had been vigilant as well. Henley suspected that had to do with some lingering distrust of both the driver and his skills.

  Somehow, Reed was still alert. Henley wondered if he also had a tub of powdered caffeine up front.

  “Wheat bagels are a delicacy at home,” Sirena grumbled with sleep roughening her voice. “Except it’s the dairy they most ration. Tiny allotments of cream cheese.”

  “Can’t feed livestock without any hay,” Jen explained.

  “The fishing industry isn’t doing so well, either,” Sirena divulged morosely.

  Nor reached a hand behind to comfort Rena with a pat on the knee. Her pine for seafood was extreme.

  Henley had never been in this part of the country, having flown to BSTU four years and eleven months ago with no qualms about security back then. Her earlier schooling had identified the center as the agricultural hub of the nation. At the time, she had imagined it a vibrant green. Four years and eleven months, Henley noted, gawking, was enough time for the climate to plummet… or the temperature to soar, as it were.

  “Where do they get their water?” Henley pondered, observing all the brittle dryness.

  “Reservoirs, groundwater wells—assuming they’re not yet dried up entirely—lakes. For non-potable needs, the intercontinental. That would be my guess.”

  “The inter—what?” Reed didn’t seem like a big-word king of guy, but in this case Henley also didn’t know.

  “The intercontinental seaway,” Jen repeated. Realizing the other passengers didn’t have her level of expertise on geologic formations, she expounded. “With the rise of sea level, the lower-lying areas next to the mountains in the Midwest down to the south became inundated, the Gulf expanding its borders, kind of. It’s been working its way up the continent over time.”

  “Oh, my best friend used to live along the gulf,” Sirena recollected. “Her family had to move way up north with two little kids.”

  “She’s lucky she got out. There were a lot of deaths.” Jen was completely apathetic. She shrugged at their astonished faces. “It wasn’t like they couldn’t have known. It’s done it before. The rocks in that area formed underwater from the last time sea level was high. People refused to believe scientists’ modeled forecasts.”

  “Or they couldn’t afford to avoid it.” Sirena defended some of those who hadn’t displaced.

  “It’s done this before?” Henley’s curiosity was insatiable.

  Jen gave Henley a nod. “Before humans—in dinosaur times. The Earth’s natural fluctuations caused it then; this is the first time it’s anthropogenic.”

  “Anthropo-what?” Reed was a non-academic in a car of fortified minds. Sirena sort of counted with her past life being in BSTU.

  “Human-induced.”

  “So, dinosaurs caused the last global warming?” Reed deduced.

  Jen scoffed. “With what? Cars? They didn’t emit anything.”

  “Volcanoes?” Nor asked.

  Jen shrugged. “Maybe; they’re being studied, but gaseous evidence doesn’t stick around, so it’s hard to know for sure. That’s still natural, though.”

  “Actually, I think I heard once from someone at our office that herbivores release a lot of gas due to the way they digest their cud,” Reed speculated, theatrically tapping a finger to his chin in thought. “Maybe that’s how they went extinct.”

  “I’ll be sure to research plant-eating dinosaur farts as a source for the mass extinction and the Cretaceous Greenhouse if I ever decide to go back into academia,” Jen promised sardonically. “My guess is human output is a little higher in volume than the dinosaurs’ and, thus, more destructive.”

  “Human farts?” Reed laughed off the universal groan and abandoned comedy for the moment. “You sound like Father’s rants. Except less… ranty,” he reflected. “He likes to rave about human impacts on nature.”

  “As did Mother but a lot more gently and encouragingly toward improving the human-biome relationship.” Nor smiled sadly at his brother.

  “You make it sound like we’re an abusive couple, humans and nature, just needing couple’s counseling,” Jen accused Nor.

  “Mother was an environmentalist.”

  “In her trade, too?” Henley wondered.

  “Ecology.” Nor nodded.

  Jen nodded back. “Makes sense. That’s why you guys go around helping people who are Earth-huggers.”

  “In a way.”

  “Saving Sirena is not really Earth-hugging.” Her eyes squinted, back to her original issue with the guys.

  “Rena is a living being like anything else.” Nor grinned as Sirena gave a half bow of thanks for the accreditation.

  “So are the humans who are destroying it.” Jen seemed pleased to find a loophole.

  “You think humans should just be dest
royed by nature?” Nor was offended and shocked as if Jen were personally killing off humanity.

  Now Jen was confused. So was Henley. “Don’t you? If your mom was an ecologist, I’m sure she knew how negatively humans have been impacting the ecosystem pretty much since we evolved, forget industrialization. Gotta face the consequences.”

  “We try only to educate those against their ways rather than condemn them. Everyone and everything has room to grow if we enable them. Humans are a part of the ecosystem,” Nor parried reasonably.

  Henley was having trouble correlating this peaceable world view with his and his brother’s intensity and physical tactics; hugging Jen to subdue her in the forest was not similarly intentioned to “Earth-hugging”. Somewhere in there were some questionably hypocritical ethics. Henley assumed that’s where Jen had believed their were planning to off Sirena in the first place. Had it been Mark who’d wanted to get rid of their experiment and Jen was more attached, even if she parroted his opinions about Green Solutions? At least Henley was not denying her ever-expanding rap sheet. That also had room to grow if Henley and her amoral accomplices continued to enable it.

  “What if part of their education is to progress industrialization, to produce ecosystem-destroying objects as it were?” Henley asked, genuinely interested in Nor’s and his parents’ stance. Was she doing something wrong? Had she been a criminal longer than she was conscious of. Henley’s opinion of herself would be shattered. It was much more tolerable if BSTU were liable for her degeneration.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Exit here,” Buster diverted the discussion and their travel. Henley started. She hadn’t even known he was awake.

  Reed kept straight. “What for?”

  “We’re almost out of power.”

  “Shit, I hadn’t even noticed.” Reed gave the controls the middle finger.