Cut Off

by Robertson, Edward W.

  "Is the problem with the full enchilada?" she said, annoyed with herself for being unable to speak clearly. She steeled her will. "Would oral be less weird?"

  "Jesus," he laughed.

  "You know, forget it. Please."

  "Hey, I get it. I way get it. Last time I did the math on this—I mean literally sat down with a piece of paper and tallied it up—I counted 37 people in Hana. Exclude me and Robi, that puts you at 35. But only 14 are women. Of those, I pegged just six between the ages of sixteen and 45."

  Tristan raised one eyebrow. "Sixteen?"

  "Don't be throwing judgment. This was all hypothetical. Can I continue?"

  "Please. This is very enlightening."

  "Four of those six are spoken for. Of the two left, Nikki's cool, but she's gay. And when I tried to make a play at Sam, she pulled a knife on me."

  She shook her head, laughing. "Sounds like you need to go older."

  "Any older and I'll be tapping the nursing home. Let me think about it, okay?" He tipped back his head and sighed at the stars. "Robi's been my only worry for so long I don't even know what I want."

  She smiled. He headed back to the park station. She dawdled on the beach, trying to rationalize away her embarrassment. She had sex on the brain lately, that was all. Anyway, she should be proud of herself for having had the balls to make a move.

  Even so, it was hard to meet his eyes in the morning. She'd come on too fast, let her atrophied social skills be trampled by her six-year itch. Then Ke joked and she saw that everything was the same. They went for a final swim, then started the long bike ride home.

  The day after they returned, she had a brief, excruciating, yet highly necessary talk with Alden about the virtues of pulling out.

  They continued work on the house, scrubbing the interior clean and repainting it with cans supplied by Robi. Papa Ohe'o dropped by to check on them and seemed impressed with Tristan's thoroughness. Once they had living space cleared out, she diverted some of her time to clearing the yard and planting more orderly crops, particularly taro, which they could probably survive on by itself if forced to.

  Alden and Robi began to spend less time on the house, leaving regularly to (as they claimed) take walks, swim in the pools, and explore the beaches. Tristan resented their absence, yet she knew she couldn't expect them to devote every waking minute to the property. Particularly Robi, who had a house of her own to help maintain.

  Days bled into weeks. They found furniture, built storage for food and goods, scavenged the neighbors of everything useful. Within a month, they had a functional, livable house, but often, Tristan was the only one there to make use of it. She saw Ke a few times a week but didn't try to force things again. Ke needed time, and time, as always, was one of the few things she had in abundance.

  A month after the trip to the black sands, and four days since she'd last seen him, Ke came to the house. "Kids around?"

  Tristan tossed aside a handful of weeds. "Swimming."

  "Think they'd be up for another trip?"

  "Where to this time? A chartreuse sand beach?"

  "I thought we'd revisit the black one." He watched her from the corner of his eye. "And your proposal."

  Half her mouth twitched into an involuntary smile. "Getting itchy?"

  "As long as I wasn't thinking about it, I was fine. Ever since you brought it up, though? Wakes me up five times a night. It's worse than having a new puppy."

  She laughed. "When do we leave?"

  "Soon as we find the kids."

  "You want to bring them with us?"

  "Like it'll be hard to slip away? They only have eyes for each other." He smiled cunningly. "Anyway, what better cover than to pose as their chaperones?"

  It was a little paranoid, but she wouldn't have felt comfortable being separated from them by so many miles, either. And if a return to the beach was what Ke needed to feel okay about it, she wasn't going to complain. Alden and Robi walked into the yard not five minutes later. They strolled hand in hand, the dreamy looks on their faces spelling out the events of their morning as well as any video recording could have.

  An acidic emotion uncurled in her gut. Unbelievably, she was jealous of her younger brother's sex life. She took advantage of their momentary agreeability to get them to commit to another trip to the beach two days hence.

  In the meantime, Tristan went about her work in the gardens. When the day came, with Robi and Ke having stayed the night, they awoke before dawn to get on the road, meaning to have the full afternoon at the beach. Tristan spent much of the bike ride in a state of amused anticipation. Would he be timid? Or was his caution nothing more than a byproduct of his guardianship of Robi, and once that door was kicked down, so to speak, he would be with her with strength and temper? For that matter, how would she act? Once upon a time, she'd been on the demure side—happy to be there, but more happy to let her partner take the lead—but she hadn't been laid since the plague. Her self had changed as drastically as the world at large. For all she knew, once they finished, she'd bite off his head.

  They got to the park without any trouble and descended the trail to the beach. It was warmer than their last visit and Tristan wasted no time getting down to her swimsuit and charging across the hot black pebbles to the temperate sea. Ke splashed in beside her. When she paused waist-deep to acclimate, he gave her a playful shove on the shoulder. She wouldn't go so far as to say it was electric, but the touch of his hand on her skin felt good. Alden and Robi were too busy with each other to notice.

  After the four of them had worn themselves out in the water, they trudged past the rocks to the patch of dirt beside the trail to dry in the sun. When Tristan began to get too warm, she got up to comb the beach along the short black cliffs fronting the beach. Next to one of the ivy-hung depressions in the cliffs, she was stopped by the smell of something aquatic. Not unusual, given that she was on a beach. But the particular note of the scent struck something deep in her gut.

  The cave appeared no more than a few feet deep, but as she stepped in to find the source of the smell, she saw it turned abruptly near its entrance, leading further into darkness. An old lava tube, perhaps. The others were still lying on their towels, arms thrown over their eyes to shield them from the sun. She went back to her pack for her pen light, the one that ran on the little nickel batteries that seemed to last forever, and returned to the cave.

  As soon as she stepped inside the tube, the smell intensified. On the cusp of offensive, yet also appealing, like a sack of uncooked shrimp. She recognized it for what it was at the same instant her light played over the orange mat growing further within the tube.

  Her breathing echoed down the cave. It was answered by the scuttle of rocks in the darkness.

  16

  Shards of metal spun to the beach, trailing smoke, others crashing into the sea with a hiss of boiling water. Sprite shouted and ran toward the jungle. From the corner of his eye, Ness saw Sebastian gesturing at him, but he only had eyes for the wreckage of the upended sub as the remainder of its tail burbled beneath the waves.

  Sprite's feet pounded back down the sand. "We've got to go!"

  "Where?" Ness said numbly.

  "I suggest anywhere that isn't in the path of the mob!"

  Ness turned to the jungle, where an unknowable number of people was presently thrashing through the brush. They seemed to be to all sides, metal pipes flashing in the moonlight. Ness grunted as he felt himself lifted bodily from his feet. At first he thought he'd been hit by another shock wave, then his perspective swung as Sebastian hauled him into the soft waves. The alien tucked him to one side, Sprite to the other, and took off swimming, tentacles twirling as fast as they could.

  Rocks plunked into the ocean behind them. Slaves gathered on the shore, scared and angry, brandishing tent poles and branches. Further inland, screams continued to rise and fall, punctuated by the blue flash of lasers. A surprise wave struck Ness in the back of the head and he turned forward, leaving the people to their f
ate.

  At present, they were motoring across the warm shallows surrounding the small island. Two miles of bay separated them from the main northern island. As they entered the choppier, deeper waters, and the mainland grew in size, Ness assessed his physical condition and determined it was fine. If Sebastian was hurt, it sure wasn't reflected in his swimming. Ness' sight was hampered by the spray of the sea and the forest of limbs between them, but Sprite appeared intact, and though he was doing a lot of babbling, at least he wasn't screaming. Once Ness had that much in place, his mind pretty much shut down.

  They churned their way through the quiet sea. After a while, the blue flashes quit flashing. He didn't know whether that was because the lasers' owners had been exterminated, or they'd run out of targets. He didn't much care.

  The breakers began to swell and hiss. They were approaching a sandy arm of land extending from the tree-encrusted main island. Sebastian powered through the surf and released his two charges. Ness flailed at the water, then found his footing and slogged up to the sand. Sprite high-stepped out of the waves, eyes goggling.

  "What the hell was that?" he shouted, then looked around the beach to ensure they were as alone as it felt.

  Ness shrugged. "Seems we lost our ride."

  "I call the ship," Sebastian gestured. "It does not call back."

  Ness presumed that was because its denizens had become the subjects of an impromptu clam bake, but he was too tired to voice as much. He signed, "I know."

  There didn't seem to be anything else to do, so he plopped down in the dry sand and gazed at his aqua socks, dimly aware that, along with his laser, the contents of his bandolier, and his elastic black jockey shorts, they were presently the only things he owned. He supposed it was a good thing they were in the tropics.

  "The sub's gone, right?" Sprite said, somewhat less hysterical.

  "You think we swam over here to go sightseeing?" Ness said.

  "Then..? I mean, you know? I mean, what do we do?"

  "I guess you're free to go home."

  Sprite laughed, his harsh cackle racketing down the beach. "How do you propose I do that? Start swimming? If I got started tomorrow, how long do you think it would take me to build a functioning speedboat?"

  Ness shut his eyes. "Won't know until you quit bitching and try."

  A damp, rubbery tentacle nudged his shoulder. Sebastian signed, "Morning soon."

  "I know," Ness said. "Whatever the setback, the world's going to keep on turning."

  "Yes and when it turns it becomes light and then I am exposed as the monster on the beach."

  Relieved that it hadn't in fact been the start of an alien life lesson, Ness mustered his strength and stood. Sebastian had done all the hard work ferrying them across the bay, yet Ness was stiff and exhausted. If they didn't find a structure of some kind soon, he was apt to pass out on his feet. They walked up the sandy spit. The surf rustled on the beach. Ten billion bugs chirped from the trees. Beyond the spit, the land had been cleared, back in the days when there were people around to clear the space they needed for farming, housing, and being able to walk around without getting ambushed by wild animals, and they spotted a house just up the beach.

  It was two stories, the stucco falling off the brick of the ground floor, the upper floor built of bamboo, capped with an orderly triangular roof that had so far weathered the tropical storms. Grass burst from the yard, interrupted by short palms beginning to retake the land. Ness opened the door and stepped back to listen. Hearing nothing, he crept inside. The room smelled musty; rain had entered through two broken windows. He made a quick pass of the house, startled once by a pack of rats, but it was otherwise clear, and the three of them moved upstairs where the mess and smell were lesser. Sebastian shined a light around and they managed to locate some reasonably clean (if stiff) linens in a closet. Ness and Sprite made themselves nests on the couches while Sebastian thumped off to the bedroom and spent five excruciating minutes shredding and rending fabric.

  Ness squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the racket to cease. His hair and skin were itchy with salt. It was only moderately warm, objectively speaking, but he was dehydrated and felt as hot as the surface of a star. Somehow, he slept.

  He woke to the sound of Sebastian doing his best to be furtive, but somehow the creature's soft taps and scuffles were more disruptive than if he'd been galloping heedlessly across the roof. Ness felt awful. His eyes were irritated. His head thumped. It was hot and there was little breeze. He was incredibly thirsty. He groped around for his bandolier, which he'd left on the floor beside the couch, and fetched one of his two water bottles. He tipped it back and drank it dry, then went back to sleep.

  When he awoke again, it was afternoon and the house was empty. He had another gulp of water and wandered outside to pee. The house sat on a lump of firm land between the sea and a brackish marsh. The area had been farmed and had few residences, but the houses of a small town peeped through the trees a half mile up the beach. There was no sign of Sebastian or Sprite.

  He wanted to go back to bed, but it was too hot inside the house. Outside, though, it was around eighty, with a steady wind. He sat against the trunk of a palm and stared out to sea, which was exhaustingly pretty.

  After a while, Sprite showed up with a sack of bananas. Wordlessly, he held it out to Ness, who took three. They were green and underripe and tasted different than he was used to, but food was food. Sebastian rolled in a while after that, a bucket of water swaying from his front claws. Ness was skeptical—the aliens appeared to do fine with unfiltered or even diluted saltwater—but it looked reasonably clear and smelled fresh. He got one of his four purifying tablets from its waterproof pack in his bandolier and dropped it in.

  "From a river," Sebastian signed. "Much water here. A good land."

  "Sweet." Ness plunked back down beside the tree. "We couldn't have asked for a nicer home."

  His claws twitched in puzzlement. "Home? Forever-home?"

  "Of course not forever. I assume at some point we'll die."

  "But your want is to stay?"

  "What's want got to do with it? The boat's gone! Blown to hell! We're done."

  "But we are still we," Sebastian said. "And the Way is still the Way."

  "Seems to me the last time I tried to follow the Way, my 'inside star' got everyone killed."

  "And so?"

  Ness turned to gape at him. "So, because of me, all your gutbrothers are dead, we're stranded on a foreign island, and we'll never find out what the Swimmers are up to."

  "And so? Truth remains truth. We must pursue."

  "I don't think you understand. Then again, obviously neither do I. I still don't get why dirt needs to be dirt or why you don't believe in freedom or how six of us and a submarine were going to stop thousands of Swimmers from their nefarious deeds. Now, it's three of us on a beach. It's over, okay? That's all there is to it."

  "You have guilt," Sebastian decided. "How can this be when you have followed the inside star?"

  Ness' shoulders shook with something close to laughter. "You are so stupid sometimes."

  Sebastian's tentacles retracted to his body. He stared a moment, then set down the bucket of water and walked off.

  Ness tried to nap. When that failed, he got up and strolled around the beach to ensure they were alone. Other than their own footprints, he saw no evidence of recent human life. He stared at the sea some more and trained his binoculars on the island where everything had gone so wrong. Both were silent.

  Late afternoon, with the air a touch cooler and the wind picking up, Sprite found him under the palms. "Want to try to find something edible besides bananas?"

  "Not really," Ness said.

  "I thought it would be a good idea to get together some food. Give us breathing room to figure out what to do next."

  "Sounds smart."

  Sprite was silent a moment. "And your idea is to sit there?"

  "Guess so."

  He waited again, then shook his head
and wandered away. Ness closed his eyes. He wasn't too happy about sinking into this bog of self-pity, but then again, it did seem to be what he did best. Anyway, the facts were the facts. All that business about him finding the Way had been BS. Even if they wanted to go on, they had neither the knowledge of where to go next nor the means to get there. If they were to do anything, it ought to be moving away from sight and swimming distance of the small island. Finding that he didn't particularly care about being attacked by slaves or slavers, he didn't bring it up.

  He napped and sat his way through several days. Both Sprite and Sebastian kept their distance. Instead, they began to speak to each other, first through writing, then through rudimentary signing. Seeing them gesturing back and forth, Ness felt a pang of resentment. He thought about trying to find some liquor or to move to a different house. Instead, he began going for walks, trudging around the saltwater marshes, watching big white birds stride around the shallows, rooting their slender bills into the muck.

  Should he leave and go try to find Kristin? He knew that, if she were still alive, she'd have Volt with her, too. The thought of the cat made him smile briefly. But it had been five years since Hanford. Even if she had stuck around, which was a mighty big if, there was no chance she hadn't found someone else. She was young, pretty. She'd learned how to make beer, for God's sake. The line of suitors must have been a mile deep. She must have moved on long ago. He'd made that decision for her when he'd sailed away in the sub.

  What a choice that had been. He'd thought he and Sebastian understood each other, but the whole thing was a farce. Half the time it felt like he was imposing his own translations on what was surely mere gibberish. Most of the time, two people could hardly understand each other. If that was true, then what chance did a hairless ape and a walking squid have?

  He ate listlessly, bananas and coconuts and crabs and green onions, uncertain what the point was. That night, he used his last water tablet. In the morning, Sebastian rounded up a metal trash can and what appeared to be an ox cart. He strapped the cart to his long body and trundled off to the river. Sprite said something about going to gather wood for a fire to boil it. Before either of them could badger him about lending them a hand, Ness trotted away down the beach.