by Indie Gantz
“Is he really good at this?” I ask Oleander, who’s already clapping his hands.
“Ave?” Oleander laughs. “He’s never actually stepped out on the field before.”
When my eyes widen and my head snaps towards Avias again, Oleander laughs, forcing me to look back at him.
“Don’t let that fool you,” Bo cuts in. “Avias is very good at what he does. He’s just never done it here.”
Seems like an odd time to start. Tirigan cranes his neck to see around a boy who’s moved in front of him.
“Does he know that guy or something?” I ask.
“You could say that,” Bo grunts. “Those two can’t stand each other, constantly bickering out on the pitch about this and that. It’s exhausting, really.”
What’s a pitch?
A reference to baseball perhaps? It was a human sport.
I shrug and turn my attention back to Avias and his opponent. They’re just standing in the middle of the field, neither of them saying anything that I can hear, both looking more intimidating than I could ever hope to accomplish.
A loud voice comes from across the circle, a woman with a horn in her hand, counting down from ten. She looks elderly, but it’s hard for me to tell. I’m not completely sure about Téssera life spans. When she reaches the number four, the boys begin to pace backwards slowly, taking a few steps to their right.
“Three.”
Avias and the other boy raise their hands in the air.
“Two.”
They drop one hand, leaving one still in the air.
“One.”
Both fighters’ hands come to their sides, and I feel a cold chill run down my back. I look to the announcer, who closes her eyes and furrows her brow in concentration. A second later, the earth moves slightly beneath me in a quiet rumble. I’m not alarmed by the quake, having experienced a few growing up, but it does unnerve me enough to check in with Tirigan.
He’s staring wide-eyed onto the battlefield, completely frozen in place. I think for a moment that maybe he’s reacting to the quake, but I quickly see what has his focus, and it isn’t the tremble beneath our feet.
Just as the vibrations begin to dissipate, the boy, the one Bo had called Cal, raises his hand in a fast, violent motion. A ball of fire hurls from his palm and heads straight for Avias.
The battle had begun.
Interlude III
Day Forty: Tirigan
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Journey to Nowhere
I’m stronger than I was before. Physically, supernaturally, but not mentally. My mental focus has always been exceptional, far superior to anyone else’s that I’ve read about or witnessed in film. There are some great minds in human history that might compare to my own, but I’d have no reliable methods of knowing.
My mind can procure and assess data at expeditious rates. It’s a skill I have found both extremely useful and excruciatingly cumbersome all at once. In contrast, Charlie’s mind is scattered even when it is focused. Her emotions, her memories, pull her thoughts in different directions even when she doesn’t want them to. The nucleus of her thoughts oscillates so frequently it gives me headaches when she leaves her mind open for too long.
I have always been under the assumption that my mind is the one that works improperly, seeing as how limited I am in certain respects. This theory has been proven true with the addition of Avias’ mind into my sample size. He is clever, cleverer than Charlie, but not as creative. He reads quickly, nearly as quickly as I do, and he has excellent auditory processing skills. However, he too owns a mind that is undisciplined with thoughts that ebb and flow like the very ocean we are flying across. His emotions are also just as apparent as Charlie’s, although more indiscernible at times. The choices he makes, the choices his family makes, are all based heavily on sentiment.
As if summoned, Avias’ mind presses at my own.
Open mind: Avias.
What are you thinking about? When I look back at him, his eyes roam over my face. He must see something unusual or new in my expression. His question doesn’t make sense otherwise. I answer him mostly honestly, curious of his reaction.
Myself.
Avias startles slightly, and the vehicle drops lower before I compensate for his lost focus. His surprise at my answer is soon replaced by the smile I have learned is reserved for me. It is kind, albeit slightly patronizing. There is also an undertone of something else. Something more.
People don’t usually admit when they are preoccupied with thoughts of themselves. Avias looks at me a moment longer, then returns his gaze out the window and concentrates on keeping us above the water.
Vanity. I supply, my eyes on the side of his face.
Precisely, Narcissus.
No, not my vanity. Yours.
The vehicle drops again, but this time Avias catches his mistake and rectifies it before I can.
How is you thinking about yourself a display of my narcissism?
Humanity’s obsession with themselves has made it impossible for anyone to self- reflect without accusation. It is not that one should not think of themselves, it is how and in what manner they do so. If I spend twenty minutes reflecting on choices I’ve made and the outcomes of those choices, that is time well spent. If that time was spent thinking of more trivial matters, such as my appearance or my academic achievements, then I suppose I’d understand not admitting to such thoughts.
Avias does not respond right away. I can hear him collecting his thoughts, a cacophony of unfinished rebuttals. When he finally puts a full sentence together, a coquettish thread of emotion weaves between his words.
Are you saying you never think of your appearance?
I am saying that I would not spend a significant amount of time thinking about my appearance.
How long would say?
Excuse me?
How much time would you say you have thought about your own appearance?
In my entire life?
Sure.
At first, I am unsure if we are playing some sort of game I don’t know the rules to, but then Avias looks at me earnestly. I have to strain my neck to look at him completely, but it is necessary in the moment.
Minutes? Hours? Days? Avias questions. I narrow my eyes at him, trying to dissect the reasoning behind the odd question without invading his mind further. Surely it can’t be weeks? He continues. I roll my eyes. Not weeks, then. Avias smiles. My stomach grows warm. I swallow back the feeling and blink a few times to clear my head. I turn back towards the windshield.
If I were forced to calculate every moment spent thinking about my appearance alone, the sum would likely be close to an hour. Maybe two.
Avias’ mind jostles with internal laughter. I think you’re underestimating, Tirigan. Charlie informed me of your preference for certain clothing.
I prefer my own clothing because of the way they fit to my body and how they feel against my skin, not because of the way I look in them.
The car drifts to the right slightly.
It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Avias’ mind darkens, becomes weighted by something left unsaid. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with taking pride in your appearance.
To what end?
What?
Why should I care about what I look like? I can’t change it very much. Why waste time on something so superficial? There are far more interesting things to think about.
Avias does not answer right away. I can feel shame in his whirring thoughts. Shame and embarrassment.
I’ve offended you.
No…yes. It’s not your fault, though. You’re not wrong. There are far better things to think about. Only…His mind trails off and I am left with only a hint of the embarrassment he continues to feel.
Only what?
Don’t you ever just…feel?
Close Mind.
I’ve cut Avias off from my mind enough by this point for him to realize that I will open it again when I am ready. We’ve both acknowledged that it
isn’t fair that I can shut him out whenever I wish, and he has to request privacy, but there isn’t anything to be done about that until Avias learns how to protect his mind.
His question has brought on more self-reflection, and I’d rather not have him privy to it.
It is not as though I am without feeling entirely, quite the contrary. I allowed myself to wonder if I were incapable of the emotions I saw in so many sentient beings when I was much younger and eventually concluded I was not. It was obvious to me that my family expressed sentiment in a way that I did not find myself capable, but upon observation and subsequent reflection, I found that just because I was unable to express emotions properly at times did not mean that I was not in possession of them. Charlie still struggles to understand this basic concept.
From this collection of data, even without seeing into anyone else’s mind thus far, I feel comfortable drawing a tentative conclusion. It isn’t just Charlie and Avias’ minds that sludge through their thought processes, and it isn’t my family alone that finds themselves a slave to their emotions. It is everyone. Everyone seems to hold emotional intelligence in a much higher regard than I believe it should be. Additionally, every mind I’ve encountered is painfully slow.
It is overwhelming, this knowledge. To know how alone I am in the way that I think, in the way I am. It is not grandiosity. It is truth. I would welcome a companion to commiserate with, if ever I found one.
I have enjoyed the company of the family we have been adopted into. Avias in particular has become a close friend. I never thought myself capable of acquiring such a person.
Sparring with Avias has improved my cleverness with my powers, as well as my physical stamina. I am grateful for these facts as I help him fly our vehicle over what was once the Gulf of Mexico.
Open mind: Avias.
I do feel, as you say, I just do not put so much energy into indulging those feelings.
I can feel Avias’ gratitude for my answer, even though there is a hint of resentment hidden within it.
Perhaps it’s because you are only half human. I look back at him, glaring. I don’t appreciate where his thoughts are headed. Your alien half is far too sophisticated for the likes of us, Avias continues. He turns his head to meet my befuddled expression. His eyes are smiling. Teasing.
I smirk, and then turn back towards the front. My Anunnaki half does have some impact on my ability to overcome the weight of emotion, as the Anunnaki are an ancient race with wisdom woven into their DNA, but that doesn’t seem to help Charlie much.
Avias laughs out loud and the vehicle drops dramatically. His laughter is immediately cut off by the rapid descent, and we work together to get the vehicle back to an appropriate height.
Kor’s eyebrows rise as he looks back at his son. “Maybe a little more focus?” he says with a ghost of a smile. “Just a suggestion.”
Avias clears his throat awkwardly and nods. “Yes, of course. Apologies.”
Kor smiles fondly at him, and then turns back towards me and extends the same expression. “Are distractions your specialty?”
The comment is obviously not one dimensional, but I cannot surmise its greater meaning. Surely he can’t know…
Close mind.
“I am unaware of such a talent,” I reply, forcing my eyes out my own window. Kor does not respond. I am grateful. His ability to phrase his sentences in a way that makes me question nearly everything he says is becoming extremely aggravating.
I push away this feeling and focus on my current activity. Both my hands extend out of the passenger side window, mimicking Avias in the backseat behind the driver’s seat. I don’t think this particular position is necessary to accomplish the task of lifting our vehicle and pushing it across the ocean, but I assume Avias is using the position as proof of his focus. Pride. Shame. Sentiment.
It is my third shift, and I have not exhausted myself the way a pure Téssera would. My Anunnaki blood keeps me rested, keeps me strong. For a time at least. I too will need to rest soon.
The ocean’s water springs up and coats my hands in salt. With over twenty percent of the water’s weight coming from sodium, the ocean is not as fresh as it once was. A result of rapid evaporation due to a makeshift greenhouse effect after the initial impact of the asteroid. What followed was the complete decimation of Earth.
Tsunamis. Earthquakes. Volcanoes. Global wildfires. Ash. Impact winter.
With an extremely diminished population, and therefore less Téssera pulling power from the Earth’s elements, the surviving Téssera had exponential power. The several hundred Téssera that survived the asteroid strike and the resulting fallout, were able to accelerate Earth’s healing process tenfold. They lived in large caves that contained their own atmospheres, and slowly worked their way out into the world, reconstructing Earth as they traveled.
The humans were long extinct by the time Earth was considered habitable again. History books claim they lived underground in large bunkers for many years. The most wealthy and influential humans bought their survival, while the poorest and least valid of humans died out quickly. Of course, even the wealthiest individuals couldn’t save themselves indefinitely, not with limited resources and disease running rampant in the stale underground bunkers they hid in.
I think it odd that the two species didn’t interact at all during the rebuilding period. Suspicious. Surely at some point the Téssera would have come across a human bunker and explored it? Likely. Considering how quickly the Téssera worked towards making Earth stable again, I’d assume that some humans would have survived long enough for the Téssera to encounter one. There is no record of such a meeting though.
“Do you need a break?” Kor asks loudly, almost shouting over the rush of wind as our car flies over the ocean.
“Not yet,” I answer. I have at least another hour before I need to rest.
“Are you sure? We can always switch out-”
“Not necessary,” I interrupt. I shouldn’t have. Rude. Kor is smiling. Apology not necessary. “I’ll let you know.”
“Okay,” Kor replies. He is leaning back in his seat, one knee up where his foot rests on the driver’s seat and the other under the nearly useless steering wheel. Avias and I are controlling the vehicle’s direction. There is no need for Kor’s hand to rest on the device. Habit.
Charlie sleeps behind me. I can see some of her dream, a fact she would be loath to know. I could try harder to keep her dreaming mind out, but I don’t want to exert any additional effort. Seeing Charlie’s mind, rather than just hearing it, is an experience I have not grown accustomed to. I haven’t seen through Charlie’s eyes, just her through mine, twice now, but I do see her dreams. They’re colorful, vibrant. Loud, violent.
Right now, as she sleeps on Bo’s shoulder and has her legs curled under her, Charlie dreams in shades of blue and grey. There are no discernible people or objects that I can make out, but I can feel her anxiety as if it were my own. Alone, afraid, hunted. Light blue shadows morph and melt away behind my eyes as dark grey clouds of smoke replace them. It is difficult to know which is my reality. Is it the salted and wet, chartreuse ocean with white clouds hovering above it? Or is it the coal-stack grey smoke that looks like it would burn my eyes if I were to entangle myself inside it? The sea. I see both realities as if they were the correct one.
“How much longer?” Bo asks from the backseat. “My jumper is nearly soaked through, and Charlie’s head isn’t exactly light.”
“Are you unintentionally ignorant to your Fotián status, or is it simply a plot to irritate?” Avias asks from beside her. My lips curl into a small smile. Avias is very funny.
“What in the ever loving frack climbed in your pants, Avias?” Bo shouts back. “Why don’t you just open that window a little wider, huh? Take a nice little dip with the sharks?”
“Children,” Oleander cuts in from the third row of seats. “Let’s not, all right? Bo, I think what Ave was trying to say is that you can dry the jumper yourself.”
“Precisely,” Avias agrees smartly. I can hear exhaustion in his voice. He will need a break soon.
Bo is quiet, but I hear her lighter click as it ignites. The distinct sound of water sizzling follows, and a second later, the petite Fotián sighs. “Ah, much better. For a few minutes at least. Are we nearly to land?”
We are moving at approximately sixty kilometers per hour, dipping occasionally closer to the water when Avias loses focus. We will reach land in two hours and twenty-seven minutes if the map is to be trusted.
“Just about,” Kor answers from beside me. “Another two hours at least. When we reach land, we’ll need to head east for a few kilometers then northwest to dodge the Efforos base. It’s possible there will be other areas we will need to avoid, so eyes peeled until we reach Tulsa. There won’t be anyone out in the middle of the desert. At least, not yet.”
I wouldn’t have recognized any of those names yesterday, but I spent my break memorizing the current map of North America, and now know that the town of Tulsa is towards the center of what was once the state of Oklahoma. Corpus Christi, the Efforos base location, is on the coast of Texas, which was a state south of Oklahoma. The middle of Oklahoma is a barren desert, which Kor insists is a good place to hide in plain sight. We will travel west from there, straight to the Californian coast.
The vehicle from before has yet to make an appearance again, even though I have diligently looked for it as we continue to travel onwards. I have yet to come to a valid conclusion as to what happened to the vehicle. There is, of course, the obvious, but I’d rather not indulge that option yet. It’s an emotionally influenced choice. Inconvenient. Useless. Sham-
Focus.
It is equally possible the owners of the vehicle managed to teleport themselves away or make themselves invisible. Both options I know to be theoretically possible, but I could not hope to accomplish either casts myself at my current level of knowledge. If either of those options are true, then it means the owners of the mysterious vehicle purposely disappeared. The only reason to do such a thing would be to hide, and there was only one presence to hide from in the middle of nowhere. Us.