Songs of Thalassa

by Brian Tissot

  “Oh my god!” she cried with joy as she stroked Two-Spot’s side while humming the music of her song. “You did it.” She paddled over and climbed into the half-filled shuttle. She held her breath in anticipation while flicking several switches on the instrument panel. After a brief delay, lights blinked on and the ship powered up. The Nesoi scattered as Da Bull rose like a phoenix out of the dark ocean and hovered over the sea, water pouring out of the cabin.

  Sage beamed in gratitude at Two-Spot and earnestly voiced her promise: “I’m going to get Maka!

  Book Four

  Awakening

  He pūnāwai kahe wale ke aloha

  Love is a spring that flows freely

  Chapter 33.

  Mythmaking

  Milo reclined on his sofa with Baker’s Beach and the majestic Golden Gate Bridge framed in his ocean-view window. He and his publicity agent, Rock Wilson, were engaged in a lively discussion about his social calendar.

  “This last month has been insane,” Rock said as he paced the room. “And the upcoming events will be even better.”

  “Thanks, Rock,” Milo replied with a huge smile. “I’m ecstatic about how everything turned out. Coming back and hearing that our monstrous surf video went viral was wonderful. Who would have imagined a billion views the first day? It’s like the whole world watched. Now everyone is clamoring for more on my expedition, which is fantastic.” Milo picked up a magazine. The front cover announced the upcoming oceanarium exhibit featuring Maka. “Oh, and that was smart, by the way, calling that seal a Thalassian sea otter named ‘Shelley.’ Great marketing.”

  Rock laughed. “Well, that’s my job: to sell you. When the exhibit opens next month, you’ll be even more famous, richer, and a hero to boot. Four people died in that horrendous surf, but you managed to survive, despite trying to save them. Moshe is so distressed he hardly speaks at all.”

  “Ah, he’s probably just stunned thinking about all the royalties from Cutten’s future work on Thalassa,” Milo said with a laugh, trying to shift the attention away from his crewmembers’ untimely demise. A quick glance at Rock told him there wasn’t any suspicion there, but he couldn’t be too careful. “Those new microbial gene sequences and the future bioprospecting will be extremely lucrative. Now we know about the tides, so we can work around them. Who would have guessed a moon could have a two-year orbit like that?”

  “Not to mention that Procyon’s white dwarf was at perigee when everything lined up,” added Rock. “Cutten’s astronomers have estimated the tides were 20 per cent higher during your visit, which only happens every 40 years. Good timing.”

  Milo brushed it off. “That was unfortunate, but that’s the price you pay for being a pioneer. We didn’t know much about Thalassa, but now we do, especially the discoveries of marine life. And that river monster, wow. After the UN rejects the CITETS amendments, they’ll be no barriers to capturing more animals.”

  “Yeah,” replied Rock. “That was a stroke of genius scheduling the exhibit opening the week before the UN convention. The publicity from that event plus Cutten rallying the corporate trans-space community, not to mention our lobbying on the Hill, will be more than enough to stop it. We—I mean, you—will be set for life. Plus, if we can do it on Thalassa, we can do it on every new planet we discover.”

  Milo beamed. “Hell, the genetic sequences alone are worth a fortune. And we can put more of those ‘otters’ on exhibit—everybody wants one. Or how about those whale-like things we saw on the way out? How unreal would that be?” Then he paused and feigned a bitter smile. “Of course, it’s tragic that Moshe and I were the only ones to make it out.”

  “But don’t you see?” said Rock. “As tragic as that is, it only makes things better. You’re a hero, and you have all the glory. Plus, we’ll be honoring them at the oceanarium opening, and we’re establishing scholarships at several major high schools and universities in their name. Sage, Dina, Georgia, and Byron will live on among the many heroes of space exploration. Immortalized as one of the great tragedies of the early days of space. Like you said, ‘It’s the price you pay for being a pioneer.’”

  Milo winced at the mention of Sage. Despite all his success, he felt some remorse at how he had left her and Georgia swimming in the ultimate horror. Just the thought of it made him cringe. And, of course he’d had to cut Sage’s giant wave at Colossus out of the video. It was by far the largest, most perfect wave ever surfed, and she was flawless. A speck on a mountain turning bravely into a golden afternoon tube the size of a football field. And a Hawaiian woman at that. He couldn’t bear it. It had to be his wave that everyone remembered. As much as he felt bad about that, he knew he’d feel worse if she was immortalized instead of him. Well, Moshe and I are the only ones who’ll ever know.

  As if he heard his thoughts, Moshe briskly entered the living room and turned on the holovision. “You’ve got to see this,” he said in an unsteady voice. As the 3-D projection filled the living room, they saw a newscaster at Cassini Station with Saturn in the background. And standing next to her was Sage, an orange Proxima Colony jacket covering her tattered blue Lycra skin. Milo jumped like he’d seen a ghost as the newscaster droned on.

  “And what’s it like being back after being declared dead?” the woman asked.

  “As you can imagine,” she said, staring into the camera. “I’m still in shock at being back, not to mention the months in space. It’s all a bit unreal. I’m thankful they waived the one-month quarantine.”

  The anchorwoman summarized the news piece. “There you have it, folks. In stunning news, back from being declared dead on Thalassa is professional surfer Sage Thompson, who allegedly died in a big-wave surfing accident. We’re live here at Cassini Station. Back to you, Bill.”

  Milo was thunderstruck, even more so by Sage’s appearance. As the newscaster spoke, she stood stoically with a blank expression that he couldn’t decipher. It wasn’t anger, or joy, or even fatigue. She just stared straight into the camera with a determined look on her face. It felt like she was staring right at him, which was unnerving. She looked wild, her face and hands marked with cuts and bruises, her hair askew. But she was very much alive and radiated strength. Whatever it was, he felt a massive jolt of fear shoot through his body, and a lump grew in his throat as he began to tremble.

  “Holy shit!” erupted Rock. “What the hell?” Then he became thoughtful. “Well, actually, maybe this is good news. Great, in fact! She’s a hero, too, another survivor. She can help support our cause even more, right?”

  But Milo wasn’t listening to his agent’s prattle; he just stared at the spot where Sage had been standing in the holographic projection. Moshe changed the channel, and Milo cringed as every station carried the same broadcast. It was huge news, and he knew it. He dropped his head into his hands and moaned as his body broke out in a sweat.

  Milo broke out of his trace and shook his head. “What was that, Rock? Oh, yeah. I guess she could be useful. Hey, could you give me some personal space? I’m still a bit tired after everything, and this news is…unsettling.”

  Rock rubbed the back of his neck. “Sure, sure, it must be hard to think you left someone behind, but I’m sure it wasn’t your fault. How the hell could she have survived that monstrous surf? But we should get in touch with her as soon as we can. We need her on our team.” Then he turned around and left the house.

  Milo collapsed on the sofa—stunned—then stared at Moshe. “What are we going to do? Fuck. I can’t believe this. Everything was going so perfectly and now…” He rubbed his hands in agitated circles around his knees. “Did you see the look in her eyes?”

  “Yes, I saw it,” replied Moshe. “About what you’d expect after being abandoned, surrounded by all those creatures. I’m astonished that she survived.”

  “But how the fuck did she make it back?” Milo said as anger replaced his fear. “I mean the Proteus was in ruins and
there was no other way—” Then it came to him. “The shuttle, of course. But shit, that ship was at the bottom of the damn ocean. How the hell—”

  Moshe rubbed his chin. “She must have gotten help from those seals. She said they were intelligent, and I enjoyed my interactions with the one we brought back. Very smart and, of course, it was hard to capture her—”

  Milo cut him off. “Stop it, goddammit! Enough of that nature-boy bullshit. Look, we’ve got to get our stories straight, and luckily, it’s her word against ours. Thank god Georgia didn’t survive.” Moshe’s nostrils flared, but Milo didn’t have time to apologize. “What can we do to discredit her if she turns against us?”

  “If?” Moshe asked. “You heard her during the eclipse. She could have kept her mouth shut, but she was defiant to the end, even though her life was at stake—I still can’t believe you abandoned Georgia too. I wouldn’t count on her support. But Rock is right about one thing.”

  “What’s that?” asked Milo.

  “You need to talk with her and soon—before she gets back to Earth and says too much.”

  “OK, yeah, that makes sense,” Milo replied, taking deep breaths. He got up and walked into his office, waving at Moshe to follow him. When he didn’t immediately follow, he turned and saw Moshe walking slowly towards him with cold eyes. “Let’s get working on this. You dig up whatever you can about Sage and watch the news outlets so we know what she says. I’ll book the space elevator and meet Sage when the shuttle docks at the space station. I’ll talk some sense into her before she gets back down.”

  Moshe shook his head. “The El is booked months in advance, you’ll never get on. Especially now. The press will have the same idea.”

  Milo broke into a wicked smile. “Cutten owns it. I’ll get on all right, but the good thing is reporters won’t be able to. I’ll make sure of that. Instead, they’ll have to wait at Kiribati Station.”

  “But what if she doesn’t want to talk with you?” Moshe asked.

  “We need to plan for that,” Milo said. “I’ll work with Cutten to get a plan in place. That’s the beauty of it. They have as much to lose as I do.” Then he reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a small handgun. “If I can’t convince her with financial incentives, then we’ll have to resort to more extreme measures.”

  Moshe took a step back. “You can’t kill her!”

  “No, no, of course not. This is just for defense,” Milo said, one eyebrow cocked. “She looked a bit unstable, so who knows what she might do? Especially with the tragic deaths of Dina and Georgia.” He tucked the gun into his belt. “Besides, that’s too obvious. But she has a large family, a job with Cutten, lots of surfing friends. See what you can dig up that we can leverage. She still has a mother, right?” Moshe reluctantly nodded his head.

  Milo gently placed his hand on Moshe’s shoulder and spoke in a soft voice. “My friend, you have always been loyal to me, and I greatly appreciate it. Hopefully, you’re happy with how things turned out for you financially. And there’s more to come. Can I count on you?”

  Moshe hesitated, then weakly nodded his head.

  “Let me remind you what’s at stake here,” Milo said, frowning at his lack of enthusiasm. “My surfing reputation, the new exhibit, future profits from Thalassa. Heck, if we don’t stop CITETS, all future planetary operations might come to a halt. We’re not just defending our interests but everyone who has an economic stake in the future of space exploration.”

  “I’m with you, Milo,” Moshe said. “I’ve come this far, haven’t I?”

  “Yes, you have,” Milo replied with a sigh of relief, despite catching a tinge of regret in Moshe’s tone.

  Moshe dropped his eyes. “But I respect Sage. She’s tough and no bullshit. She’s a fighter. I’ll help you do what you need to do, but I won’t help you kill her.”

  Milo recoiled at the rebuke but caught himself. “Ah—yeah, sure, no need for that. But remember, we’re in this together, right? I fall, we fall.”

  “One more thing,” Moshe added with a scowl. “I’m not going to kill any more of those seals again, ever. I like the one we brought back.”

  Milo nodded then pulled out his satellite phone and began making calls.

  Chapter 34.

  Coming Home

  Sage looked out the Cassini shuttle’s window at the approaching blue marble with mixed emotions. Home. That word had a new meaning to her now. After being gone for over a year, Earth was a distant memory, clouded by her tribulations on Thalassa. She no longer doubted her goals in life—they were startlingly clear—but the old anxieties about her family crept into her thoughts. She also had to confront Milo and get Maka back. I know what I need to do, but I’m not sure how to do it.

  Looking back on her experiences on Thalassa made her realize how much she had changed. Before she left, surfing was her life, and she was driven, aggressive, and angry. She was livid that the ocean had punished her brutally at Nazaré and furious that Milo had beaten her record, all leading to the loss of her fame and followers. She had lived on the strength of their virtual love, and that had died. Now she understood she had been chasing the impossible challenge, angry at failing against the all-powerful sea. All the while trying to prove her love to her long-dead father. And in the chaos of her empty pursuits, she became distant and bitter and pulled away from her ‘ohana. She’d been avoiding her family’s love and needed to be whole again. The Nesoi taught her that.

  On Thalassa, she had faced her ultimate fears and her father’s death and learned that he never doubted her love. Indeed, she had felt it across time and space and learned that love was eternal. It flowed through the universe in light and song. Now, she wanted and needed to reconnect with her family. After reading her father’s journal, her thoughts focused on her mother, who she pushed away so long ago. Although she ached for her mother’s love, the thought of reconnecting scared her. How could I have been so stupid, so shallow, to avoid her? She basked in memories of her mother’s beautiful voice, her artistic talents, her embrace of the new Hawaiian ways. She realized that her mother was everything her tutu wasn’t and that she had made a choice between them. It’s no wonder they didn’t get along. But for me, she thought, they are two sides of the same coin: the old and the new. To be whole, I need them both in my life.

  From her experiences, she now respected the power and wisdom of the old Hawaiian ways and her tutu’s teachings. She believed her ʻaumākua were with her on Thalassa, guiding her along on her perilous journey. She heard them and saw their visions. And the Koholā, yes, they were there too. The embodiment of our connections to the ancients dominated the planet in many forms. She had a vision of the bond in her dream: a great river of light bound by love and song. But the songs were the key. Through them, she understood that everything was connected.

  Looking at Earth, she pondered the deeper meaning of her experiences. Since she’d rediscovered a mystical connection within the living world that modern society had lost, she now saw the connection to the ‘āina, to all living creatures, to the physical world, to the flow of energy in the universe. We are so much a part of Earth, she lamented, but we have isolated ourselves. Earth’s songs are dim, but maybe it’s not too late.

  Her thoughts turned to her new ‘ohana, the one that had grown to include Melia, Maka, Two-Spot, the Nesoi, indeed all living things on Thalassa. Her spiritual journey’s biggest effect had been on her love for everything—the return of her circle of aloha. Humans aren’t the apex of the evolutionary tree; we are just one self-aware intellectual being among many. Her journey made her wonder about the origins of the Nesoi and the other cetaceans on Thalassa. What was their purpose? How did they get to Thalassa? Or maybe, Sage though, how did our whales get here? The flow of energy she saw suggested that time and space were not what they appeared to be; that life wasn’t what it appeared to be. But she knew she was only beginning to understand the mysteries of th
e planet. For her last moments on Thalassa were unforgettable.

  She had spent two weeks preparing the lander for the journey, cleaning and triple-checking the controls and circuits, while she gathered provisions. The AI estimated 93 days to the jump point to Cassini, and she just had to make it. She said an affectionate goodbye to Two-Spot and her clan, then lifted off Reunion Island into a gorgeous powder-blue sky filled with fluffy white clouds. As she flew low over the continent, her thoughts were not on Thalassa but the outer portal satellites. If Milo had pulled them, then it was a one-way trip because she wouldn’t have the power or provisions to return. She would die, trapped in a small shuttle in the Procyon system 12 light years from home. It was a risk she was willing to take to get Maka back.

  As she passed the northern island where her father rested, she saw splashes in the water made by the toothed whales, which she called Ceti, as they entered the misty polar sea. At first, she only saw white wave crests in the vast cobalt-blue sea. But through the mists, she saw a massive animal plowing through the water below.

  She watched in stunned silence as the leviathan twirled like a pika through the ocean, filling its maw with a huge gulp of seawater. Then it closed its mouth as water squirted between its teeth. “Oh my god,” she said in the shuttle. “They’re feeding like baleen whales on Earth. They’re eating the rich plankton of Thalassa’s oceans! How unbelievable; they’re the baleen whales of the polar seas. I’ll call them the ballena.”

  As the shuttle climbed higher, she saw more feeding behemoths. At first a few, then a dozen, then hundreds. Her last view of the planet was an icon of the northern sea: an ice cap framing an ocean teaming with ballena, all spinning and feeding and splashing on the surface.

  And at that moment she remembered the sonobuoys deployed across the planet. Pulling up a map and pressing a few buttons, she streamed sounds from those deployed below her. Music filled the cabin, and her heart skipped a beat. “The ballena are singing!” They sounded like the Ceti but at a different pitch: an ethereal, mournful groan pierced by occasional squeals and shrieks, the sounds she had heard in space. As she listened, she recognized a familiar refrain, part of a Nesoi song. Then she saw sonobuoys on the console deployed near the Nesoi islands and the Ceti’s canyons. Switching them on, new sounds flooded the cabin and mixed with the chorus of the ballena. She gasped. “They’re singing together!”