by Brian Tissot
As if on cue, they saw Dina and Georgia running down the beach toward them, yelling and screaming at the top of their lungs. And somebody was running ahead of them—Sage.
Ecstatic to see everyone, even Milo, Sage didn’t hesitate before she ran up and hugged him fiercely. She pulled back and looked him squarely in the face. “What’s hangin’, brah? It’s good to see you!”
“Wow, I don’t know what to say. I thought you were long gone, but…it’s good to see you.” He took a step back and stared at her with eyes much colder than she remembered. “You mean you’re not pissed at me for catching the biggest wave?”
“Um, no, because you didn’t,” she replied flatly. “You saw my gigantic tube ride, right? It was unbelievable.” What’s he playing at? she wondered. Was all this Procyon sunshine warping his brain?
Milo laughed. “No, I didn’t. But either way, mine was bigger, right, Moshe?”
Moshe gave Sage a faint smile. “Glad you made it.”
“It’s great to see you, too, big guy.” She hugged him quickly before turning back and snapping at Milo. “There’s no way. My wave was giant. You had to have seen it. You almost dropped in on me. I saw your face. You knew it, and you can’t stand here and—”
Georgia and Dina came running up out of breath and cut her off. “Can you believe it?” exclaimed Georgia. “I was watching Dina surf, and Sage comes walking up and says, ‘Aloha, stranger!’ I just about fell over. After all this time, we were sure you were dead!”
Dina looked between Sage and Milo, who were glaring at each other, and threw her hands up in exasperation. “Are guys fighting again? Here?”
Sage stood next to Dina. “Please tell everyone that I rode the biggest wave.”
Dina shook her head. “Not now. For god’s sake, we’ve got more important things to talk about.” She motioned back toward the water. “How the hell did you escape that monstrous surf and get to the beach? That’s at least a 20-mile trip.”
Sage shrugged. “It’s a long story, but the short version is that I had help.” Then she pointed at Melia, Maka, and Two-Spot, who had been following her in the water.
Milo scoffed. “You mean those seals helped you?”
“They’re not seals, Milo,” Sage said defensively, then quickly softening her tone. “I call them Nesoi. They are very intelligent, compassionate, and loving creatures. And they teach each other how to hunt, navigate, and find shelter. They’ve saved me twice. They’re totally amazing!”
Milo laughed. “Geez, Sage. You sound like you’ve gone off the deep end. Compassionate—that’s hilarious!”
Sage stared blankly at Milo, remembering now who he was and starting to wonder why she had ever trusted him in the first place. She narrowed her eyes and put her hands on her hips. “You ran over one of them, by the way.”
He took a step toward her. “Because you almost knocked me off my board, so I—”
“Save it, Milo,” Dina said. Sage could hear a hint of tears through the anger in her voice “I’m not listening to any more arguing right now. Dammit, I thought my friend was dead!” Dina pulled Sage away, and Sage followed her lead as they shuffled down the beach.
That afternoon, after everyone’s tempers had cooled, they sat in a circle on the beach and caught up on their adventures since the fateful day at Colossus. Milo started first, eager to share his story of survival “…in the face of certain death,” as he described it.
He recalled the events leading up to his “world record” wave, getting caught inside, and the ensuing chaos when the lander crashed. Listening to his lies, Sage realized once again she could never trust him as he made up stories to enhance his image. At any rate, according to Milo, as Moshe and Georgia tried to pull him up onto the lander’s ladder, a wave knocked all of them into the surf. As they struggled to stay on the surface in the raging water, Dina swam over to help, and another wave hit the lander, apparently knocking Byron unconscious. Out of control, it crashed on top of them, then sank rapidly to the bottom. In the ensuing maelstrom of water, waves, and debris from the lander, Milo pulled Moshe out of the chaos, they located a board, and he was able to power out of the surf zone.
Then Dina took over the story. “It was madness. I dove underwater in the raging surf to the lander to save Byron and Georgia, as they were both trapped in the wreckage. But the lander was rolling and tumbling on the edge of the reef. It must have been 50 feet deep, and it was nearly impossible to see anything in the surging white water. It was pure luck that I was able to grab Georgia. As I pulled her away from the lander, it slipped off the edge and into deep water, taking Byron with it.”
“I wouldn’t be here without you,” Georgia said with moist eyes. “Thanks again.”
Dina shrugged it off. “That’s what I’m here for.”
“My guess,” said Georgia, wiping her eyes, “is the lander dropped into the submarine canyon and is probably on the bottom at 1,200 feet, perhaps even more.” She dropped her gaze. “Poor Byron.” They held hands and had a few minutes of silence for Byron.
Milo crossed his arms and tapped his foot to break the silence. “And then…we all hooked up, Dina found her board, and we all powered toward this island, which I saw in the fading light. But the goddamn motoboards ran out of juice, and we had to paddle the rest of the way. We had barely sat down when that goddamn meteorite hit. Luckily, I knew what to do, and I saved everyone as we climbed to higher ground.”
Dina rolled her eyes, and Georgia’s mouth dropped open. Sage tilted her head back and laughed. “Well, aren’t you the hero?” She turned to Dina. “Is that true?”
Dina waved it off. “More or less.
“I don’t know about you,” Georgia said, “but I’m getting sick of pika. Milo’s so hungry he asked Moshe to kill one of those seals for us to eat.”
“Yeah,” Milo replied, “but he left his gun on the Duke.”
Sage almost stopped breathing. “Are you kidding me? How could you do that?”
Milo stood and walked around the circle. “It’s survival of the fittest out here, and protein is protein. What are we supposed—”
Dina interrupted him. “Sage, let’s hear your story.”
The conversation turned to Sage as she recounted her experiences waking up on the island, running from the tsunami, exploring the caves and surf, her discoveries of the different animals, and ordeal with the jellies. Sage skipped over her reflections in the cave and the circle of Nesoi, but went on to describe her gradual realization of the Nesoi’s individuality and compassion—Maka and Melia in particular. Everyone, including Milo, attentively listened as she discussed the Nesoi’s behavior, high intelligence, and beautiful songs. Then she talked about her insights on the incoming celestial object, the tides, and the significance of the bare seafloor and landscape colors.
Georgia had reached the same conclusions. “I agree with you about the tides and that object, which I believe is a second satellite of Thalassa, another moon. The only thing that makes sense is that the moon is in an elliptical orbit that takes years. That would also explain Byron’s unusual asteroid orbits—the moon is gravitationally perturbing them. Right now, it’s approaching perigee with Thalassa, its point of closest approach, and the ocean is feeling the gravitational effects.”
“Can a moon do that?” asked Sage.
“Sure,” replied Georgia. “It’s unusual, but all sorts of weird things happen in space. However, elliptical orbits aren’t stable and eventually decay, so this must be a relatively new satellite for the planet.”
“Define new,” asked Milo.
“Oh, hard to say but probably less than 20 million years,” replied Georgia.
Sage was fascinated by the implications of the discovery “So these lunar cycles have been going on for quite some time, right? And are an important part of Thalassa’s ecology?”
“Yes, that’s probably true,” Georgia
replied. “But honestly, we don’t know. We probably have the data we need on the Duke because we started the gravitational scan when we arrived. But there’s more.” And everyone leaned in a little closer, despite some of them having heard the story before. “Elliptical orbits create strong tidal forces, and I don’t mean just ocean tides. Both that moon—what did you call it? Hina? I like that—and Thalassa are pulling on each other internally. Their mutual gravitational forces are affecting both planets, including their magmatic interiors, which generates heat and enhances volcanism. Hina, being smaller, would bear the brunt of this effect, but Thalassa is affected too. You may have noticed the increasing number of earthquakes we’ve been having, right?”
“Yeah.” Sage laughed. “I noticed. Does that mean the volcanoes are going to erupt? They’re already smoking.”
“Hard to say,” Georgia said, “but it’s certainly a possibility.”
“But what about the clouds?” asked Dina. “The weather also seems to be changing.”
Georgia looked at her hands as she rubbed them back and forth. “I don’t know for sure, but all this water motion, the covering and uncovering of land and seafloor, might be increasing the rate of evaporation. Either way, the moisture content of the atmosphere is increasing. You can see the rain clouds growing around the volcanoes, which are the highest points on the planet, but also over the Bulge, which is probably being uncovered by these low tides that are now approaching 100 feet high. We might get some serious rain here, and soon. Do you all remember the deep gullies we saw when we first flew in? On Earth, they’re caused by massive floods.”
Milo looked up at the dark, angry clouds. “Which is why we need to get off this island to the mainland. I have a plan.”
Everyone looked at Milo in surprise. “You do?” asked Dina. “I thought you wanted to wait for a rescue, since you rejected my idea of paddling over when we first got here. But let’s hear it.”
Milo drew his plan in the sand as he talked. “We’ve got two problems here actually. One, as we’ve discussed, the tides are getting increasingly violent and we’ve all noticed the changes in vegetation patterns—or whatever you call that stuff. If you haven’t noticed, our island has about 20 feet of red at the top, which suggests it is above the highest tide level so most of this place may be completely underwater soon. Therefore, our safest bet is to get to the higher elevations of the mainland.”
Dina shook her head. “Are you kidding me? Crossing that channel is suicide with these tides. It’s at least a mile or more across, and don’t forget about those big jellies out there. Didn’t you hear Sage? Those things almost killed her!”
“Yes, but that brings up our second problem. We must get home, and the only way to do that is to call down the Duke. I would have hoped Cutten, given the lack of communication, would have been here by now, but we can’t wait anymore. So I propose we seek out the ruins of the Proteus and find something that can power our remote control.”
Georgia’s jaw dropped. “That’s your big plan? The Proteus? That was, what, 12 years ago? We could spend forever trying to find it. It could even be underwater.”
“Well,” replied Milo, “I think it isn’t too far from here. Possibly within a few miles on the coastal plains across from us.” Then he hesitated. “Or…you know, maybe in one of these bigger valleys. That’s where we’ll start looking once we cross over.”
Georgia paused, then sighed. “Proteus notwithstanding, I agree with Milo. We need to cross that channel and soon. I suggest we watch the tides closely and run over when we can, quickly and carefully as Sage did.” She pointed at their surfboards “Is there any power left in those boards?”
“No, they’re zapped,” replied Dina. “And they haven’t been able to recharge in this overcast weather.”
“We’ll just have to figure it out,” Milo said, as it began to rain.
Book three
Tidefall
O ka uhiwai no ka i `ike i ka `ino o ka wai
Only the mists know the storm that causes the streams to swell
Chapter 21.
Chimera
He awoke from a long sleep buried deep in the dry riverbed. Dark, cold, tight, coiled in the hard mud. Why was he awake? Ah, I can smell it. The faint scent of sweet water in the ground. The nectar of life slowly seeped into his body, rehydrating, invigorating. Once again, he thought, it is time. Time to awaken, to hunt, to feed, to mate. As he remembered these things, his desires began to grow. His hunger, ravenous; the deep impulse flowed through his body like electricity. The water was awakening his muscles, his senses, and his mouth moved feebly. Soon, all his energy would focus on one thing: eat as much as possible during the dark days. Feed before the sky water stops, before the burning star returns, before the rivers dry up and the prey disappear.
The prey. Yes, I remember the prey. The way they tasted and how they felt in his stomach. The crunchy mouth-sized creatures were everywhere. Easy. All I do is open my mouth and lunge. They were too busy eating and mating and hardly seemed to notice when he ground them to shreds with his limbs. Good, yes, but easy, and he sought the thrill of the hunt. The stalking, the attack, and the short battle, before he eventually won. And he always won. Hunting the bigger prey was more exciting, and the taste was—well, different…better. And it helped him to grow. To grow larger. And when the mating began, before the sweet water stopped, bigger was better. I will get more mates, and the feeling is good. Yes, that is everything.
But these other creatures were not easy. Indeed, they were rare and difficult and had strange movements with two legs. He had to wait until the sweet water filled the streams with its rage, creating his turbulent lairs. When they came near his hiding place, he would quickly emerge and grab one. What a feast! He learned, many cycles ago, that others would join the fight when he attacked. They helped each other! Even the big furry ones helped, the ones he heard but couldn’t see. When he attacked and tried to eat one, the noisy ones appeared. How could I have known they would help each other? It was beyond his experience. They clawed him, bit him, pulled him, dragged him out of the sweet water. The first time, he barely survived. He swam back to his hole in pain and fear, missed mating because he was bleeding and injured. Instead, he burrowed into the mud to heal, to wait for the next cycle. No, I have not forgotten that day, and I have learned. I know what I must do now. He was bigger, more experienced. It had been six cycles since that time, and he hungered for the two-legged prey.
Though his mouth watered at the thought, he knew he had to wait. It wouldn’t be long now. The water would flow, the ground would shake, and he felt the changes in the ancient cycle awakening his body. First, the bursting of the crusts; the crusts that fed the slimy creatures packed around him in the mud, millions of them. Like him, they were all waiting for the right moment, the smell. When he felt the slimy creatures moving, his time would be near. Next was the prey. The jumping creatures he learned to eat when he was young. After the slimy ones were out, they came next, working their way through the soft mud, climbing out onto the surface and feasting on the slimy ones. A feeding frenzy as the jumpers hunt, and eat, and mate all at once. They know their time is short, for I am coming.
When the water was high and the mud was softened by the burrows of the small ones, he would emerge into the turbulent river. Waiting in his lair, he would feel the ground. Watch the sky. Avoid the bright star. Feed and prepare for the great moment. For when the sky went black in the middle of the day, they would come. The giant ones would emerge from the great depths. And with them the horde, the countless creatures, small and large, that would rise into the sudden darkness. The great sea would fill with creatures flailing at the surface. Eating, escaping, mating. The water would fill with their smells. Then would be the time to grab one, the biggest he could find. For the smells would trigger the mating ritual, and he would lose all thoughts of eating. But first, I have to feed. Yes, and this time I am going to hunt
the two-legged creatures and eat like never before.
Chapter 22.
Black Rain
The team hunkered down in a sheltered cave high on a cliff as it shook from the force of the heaving tide. It had been raining for eight days, and Sage watched from their high cave while a deluge of rain covered the land. She’d seen rain like this before, in Hawaii, but only for hours, not days. She’d seen the heavens open and the rain fall like continuous sheets of water flooding the land, popping out of springs in the ground fed by lava tubes on the mountains. But this was different, and she could feel the intensity of the storm building toward a climax.
Days ago, the eastern clouds merged with the western storm to form a giant dark mass of angry thunderheads as the wind howled through the valleys and along the cliffs. As the sky let loose its watery burden, the feeble streams grew into raging torrents. It was as if all of Thalassa’s great oceans had evaporated into the sky and were suddenly rushing back to the sea. The storm came in great thundering sheets of water pierced by lightning. Then it would die down for a few minutes or an hour, just enough for them to see the mainland across the bay through the mists, but then it would start up again.
A spider web of rivulets, streams, and rivers pouring off the island filled with so much yellow-red-black sediment that the sea had become a swirling cauldron of brown-and-white madness. The tides had grown frighteningly large, seemingly overnight. The inland sea drained at night then rushed back at dawn as a huge, frothing chocolate wall. In front of the cave, the sea came in from both sides, colliding in a gigantic upheaval of foam that shook the island in its rage. And it was growing; every day the tides were bigger, with the high tide approaching the edge of their cave. Although she had hope that it would completely drain the inland sea and they could scramble across, she worried about seeing her way through the veiled madness.