Cut Off

by Robertson, Edward W.

  "There's no going back to Olongapo. Not after that. Do we have a map of any kind?"

  Sprite glanced at their course, then rattled around until he found a giant folding map. Ness spread it over his bloody knees and made a quick geographic assessment.

  "We've hardly got any food and water," Ness said. "Can you sail this thing by night?"

  "Dude, there are so many little islands around here, that would be like when Han took the Falcon into the asteroid field."

  "Then let's get up the coast a bit and drop anchor."

  Sprite saluted and turned to the wheel. "Aye aye, sir!"

  "Not east!" Ness said. "West. We've got to go back to the farmhouse for food and water. Anyway, Hawaii's north of here." He brought the map over to Sprite and drew a line looping north around the main island of Luzon and then dead east to Hawaii. "See that? Hardly anything but open ocean between us and the prize."

  Sprite leaned over the map, which was well lit by the overhead lights. "That's actually kind of terrifying."

  "No worries, man. We got our boat. We got..." He checked the dials. "More than three-quarters of a tank if we need to pull any fancy maneuvers. Heck, if the wind dies and we get stuck, we can toss Sebastian overboard to catch us some fish. Right, Sebastian?" He gestured to Sebastian, who nodded solemnly.

  Sprite glanced between them, then busted into laughter. "Whatever you say, Captain."

  For his first act as captain, Ness swept the glass from the bridge. They got a few miles from the bay, then dropped anchor and caught some sleep, leaving one of them awake to stand watch. Once it grew light enough, Sprite fired up the engine to get going, then shut it down and let the two tall, triangular sails take over, guiding them well away from the light blue shallows. The GPS wasn't working, but many of the displays were doing fine. One declared they were headed north at just over 10 KTS. At first Ness thought it must mean kilometers, and was dismayed at their sluggish pace, but as he was out on the deck fooling with his octant to practice navigating from the deck of a moving ship, his mind spat out the knowledge, garnered from the manuals at the piers, that it was measuring knots. Which meant their speed was more like 11.5 MPH. He knew it all depended on the winds, but if they could maintain that pace, sailing day and night, they'd hit Hawaii in three weeks.

  That gave him a baseline for how much food and water they'd need to complete the trip. Not that estimating their daily intake of such things was a precise science. Two gallons and two pounds per day struck him as a good minimum. Finding that much would be zero problem—he bet they could gather it up in a matter of hours—and the yacht had both a functional fridge and freezer, meaning preservation wouldn't be an issue for once, either. He wasn't sure how they would have made it without that. This whole time, the sub's amenities had buffered him from worrying about the basics of survival. They'd made it through the last few weeks just fine, but they'd been sustaining themselves through very basic hunter-gatherer stuff. He had the feeling learning the rudiments of long-term survival would be a hell of a curve.

  For the moment, though, his only concern was getting on their way to Hawaii. That day, the shifting winds perplexed Sprite on several occasions, the yacht dawdling to a crawl as he struggled to adjust. Despite these slowdowns, they made steady progress up the coast, and by late afternoon they dropped anchor outside the mouth of the river leading to the farmhouse.

  "I figure this will go fastest if me and Sebastian go in together," he told Sprite. "You going to be okay watching the boat by yourself?"

  Sprite glanced at the displays. "Why wouldn't I be?"

  "Because when given a choice between shooting and not shooting, seems like you prefer to shoot."

  "Who likes getting shot at?"

  "There was a time when I would have thought the answer is 'no one.' These days? I'm not so sure, G.I. Sprite."

  Sprite sighed and leaned against the dash. "All right, wise master, what should I be doing different?"

  "Not calling me wise master, for one thing." Ness wiped his nose with the back of his hand. "Look at how the animals do things. They'll fight if they have to. But they much prefer to convince the other guy to back off and go on his way."

  "So I should roar and make myself look big? Threaten them?"

  "Not the way you mean. Say someone's walking down the shore and stops to look at the boat. What's more frightening? If you were to show yourself and scream at him? Or if you stay hidden and don't make a peep?"

  "Okay, that would be some creepy ghost ship shit. What if he tries to come over anyway?"

  Ness shrugged. "Don't show yourself or speak. Just fire a single warning shot. If he keeps coming, make the next one more than a warning."

  "Makes sense." Sprite moved to the side of the cabin and peered at the beach. "What if it's more than one guy? What if it's a group?"

  "Two choices. One, you try the same thing—warning shot, kill shot. Two, you don't make a move until they're close enough for that move to take them all down at once." He tipped his head to the side. "Forget the tough guy bullshit and let the situation speak for itself. Somebody sees a boat like this, they know it's going to be defended. Ninety-eight times out of a hundred, they'll leave it alone rather than risk their lives for it. With the other two, you're sure not going to run them off with threats and bluster."

  He left Sprite on the yacht and swam to shore alongside Sebastian. The two of them followed the muddy river to the farmhouse, then split up, with Sebastian hauling a cart off to the farms while Ness hunted along the river for a boat of some kind. He soon found a flat-bottomed metal rowboat in a shed a short ways upriver and paddled it back down to the house, aided by the current. He beached it and went to find Sebastian and help him load up the cart with breadfruit, pineapple, squash, and the sweet not-quite-lemons. This consumed the rest of the daylight, but they continued to work, filling a garbage can with water and bringing it back to the house to be boiled. Smoke and ash swirled in the warm air.

  Once it was purified, they put out the fire and let it cool while they piled the fruit and vegetables into the boat and rowed out to the dark yacht. Ness noted with satisfaction that Sprite didn't show himself until they had tied up to the back of the ship.

  They went back for the water, but it was obvious there was no way to load the garbage can into the flimsy rowboat. They banged around in the dark for sealable tubs and jugs, siphoning water into them from the larger can. This done, they brought them to the yacht, then returned to the farmhouse a third time for all the medical supplies and sundries they'd gathered during their stay. Finally beginning to grasp the enormity of their venture, Ness insisted they make one last visit for all the fishing supplies they could put together in a reasonable time.

  By the time they had the yacht loaded up, the chronometers said it was four in the morning. Ness curled in a bunk and immediately fell asleep. He woke to the sensation of the boat pitching over the waves. He went out to pee off the back of the ship. Three miles to his left, the east, green land sprawled across the horizon. The sails swelled with the wind. Sebastian had rigged a tarp under the main mast and hunched there, out of sight as he watched the sea.

  By dusk, they were still heading north along Luzon, which was apparently endless. The coast was just beginning to curve to the east when Sprite struck the sails and pulled them to a stop.

  They were awake before dawn and killed the last of the darkness fishing, using breadfruit for bait, catching a handful of silvery fish as long as Ness' forearm. The galley had a two-burner electric range, but with no idea how far they could trust the battery, they wound up eating the fish raw.

  Once the skies had lightened enough to spy any reefs or islets, Sprite made way, curving around the head of Luzon and threading through the islands tangling the waters to its north. By afternoon, the Philippines sat behind them. Ahead, they saw nothing but the wide blue Pacific.

  "What's the heading, Captain?" Sprite said from the wheel.

  "Simple," Ness said. "North, north, and more north."<
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  "North?" Sprite glanced over his shoulder. "Isn't Hawaii like totally east of here?"

  "Back in the day, all you needed to navigate north-south was the sun. But they didn't have shit for instruments. Figuring out the longitude was a bitch and a half. To prevent themselves from sailing way off target and dying, they'd head straight to the correct latitude, then head east or west to finish the trip. No way to miss it that way."

  "That's the plan? Won't it add distance?"

  "A day or three," Ness nodded. "Problem is we got all right tools, but we've got a shit navigator."

  Sprite laughed. "So we're going old school. I'm down."

  "Glad to hear it."

  Luzon and its little satellites dimmed in the haze. Soon there was nothing but the sea, the clouds, and the ship. With no more need to hide, Sebastian installed himself in the prow, tentacles wrapped fast around the railings. The waves were smaller than Ness would have expected, yet walking down the deck to Sebastian was a challenge nonetheless. He joined him at the front, planting his bare feet on the damp deck.

  "What do you think we'll find there?" he gestured after a moment.

  "Not known."

  "That's why I asked what you think."

  "Answers."

  Ness rolled his eyes. "My money's on some kind of brain surgery. Get us to do the Swimmers' bidding, hunt each other down, that sort of thing. If you see an alien, you shoot on sight, but most people won't open fire on another human before there's some provocation. We're better at guessing where each other are hiding, too."

  "Very complicated," Sebastian gestured.

  "Then what's your big idea?"

  He shrugged again, a very impressive gesture, given how many limbs he had. "Poisons to drop from the jets on the cities. Or radiation to sterilize you all." He eyed Ness. "Or plain torture. The Swimmers are very angry."

  "Well, it can't be a virus, there's not enough of us left to spread it. It'll have to be something active." The sun cleared the clouds and Ness shielded his eyes against the glare of the waves. "How'd you guys ever come up with the Panhandler, anyway?"

  "Also complicated."

  Ness laughed. "We got nothing but time."

  Sebastian clacked his claws, then gestured, "By taking you."

  "Abductions?" Ness said out loud, laughing in disbelief. "You flew down and took people? Why didn't the satellites catch you?"

  "Dropped pods on the top of the planet where there was nothing but ice. Pods landed, became boats. Sailed south to Canada, Siberia, the island to the north and west of England."

  Ness thought a moment, then signed, "Ice-land?"

  "The name is not known to me. Far north, and isolated. We stole people."

  "How the heck did you get them off-planet? No way you'd escape notice when you're blasting into orbit."

  "We didn't. We read the text of their biology."

  "Our genetic code? DNA?"

  "Yes DNA. Read this and transmitted this to orbit, which transmitted in turn to the whaleship where it hid behind..." Sebastian paused. "Fifth planet from your star."

  "Jupiter," Ness spelled.

  "Hidden behind Jupiter, whaleship received DNA text. Used it to print humans. Used these—"

  "Print humans? Made people from the DNA? Clones?"

  "Yes clones. Then we made the virus and carved it until it was the shape that would kill you all."

  "Holy shit." Ness wiped a drab of sweat from his temple. "Except it didn't get all of us."

  "We made mistakes," Sebastian signed. "There is much sameness in us. Always has been, and also we have refined our DNA against sickness. We did not anticipate the diversity of humans."

  "Good thing for us. Well, that is...that." He could only shake his head. "You know, maybe we should quit chasing the Swimmers all over the place and try to convert the humans to the Way instead. Would the Swimmers still try to eradicate them if they shared their beliefs?"

  "A thought."

  Ness stared into the sea and it stared back. "Nah, they'd never go for it. How do we really know what the dirt wants, anyway?"

  "It wants to be life."

  "So you say. But it's not like we can ask it. Aren't we imposing our own biased, crappy perspectives on it?"

  "And so?"

  "So doesn't that mean we're only guessing?"

  Sebastian shrugged. "All is guesses."

  "Okay there..." Ness trailed off, lacking a symbol for Confucius. "Doesn't that point to a pretty huge flaw in the system?"

  "All life guesses. That is what life does. Thus it is our job to guess for the dirt which cannot. If we guess as best we can, then that is the Way."

  He could have argued longer, but his brain was still blown by the part about printing clones in orbit around Jupiter. He got up to go short-circuit Sprite's mind with the news.

  They hit the correct latitude and turned due east, seeing little besides the occasional birds and dolphins. It rained now and then, quitting within minutes. Ness kept tabs on their latitude through the octant. He did his best to quash his doubts that he was doing it all wrong and would lead them away into nowhere, having missed Hawaii by a thousand miles. He attempted to measure their longitude, too, both for the practice and because the winds didn't always allow Sprite to stick to a perfectly straight course. As far as Ness could tell, their tacking had more or less canceled itself out.

  Twelve days after leaving the farmhouse, Sebastian signaled that he'd spotted land. Ness knew they hadn't gone remotely far enough for it to be Hawaii—according to his calculations, it was probably Wake Island, a little past the halfway point—but after so much uninterrupted blue, white, and gray, it was good to see some green through the binoculars. If they'd needed to, they could have stopped for food or water, but they hadn't yet gone through a third of their total. They cheered, waved some arms and tentacles around, and continued on.

  Besides that, his navigation duties, and the odd spot of whale watching, it was all pretty dull. Three days past Wake Island, all that changed. The winds switched direction, pushing against them, forcing Sprite to tack back and forth. A wall of clouds appeared in the west, as black and solid as a cliff. The waves, calm for days, undulated deeply, tossing Ness' stomach up and down.

  Sprite came out from the cabin. "If we care about the sails, we'd better take them down. And if we care about our lives, we should start praying. Because that looks like a god damn typhoon."

  21

  Tristan's headache and nausea receded in a swoop, replaced by the thunder of her heart and the electricity of adrenaline. "Taken? By who?"

  Alden's face was ashen. He turned to gaze up at Haleakala, all but hidden behind the fronds of the palms. "Them."

  "How do you know? Did you see them? Alden, what happened?"

  "We were at the pools. Having a swim. We got out to dry off. After a few minutes, Robi got up and said she was going down to the beach. I dozed off. When I got up, she was still gone. On the beach, her footprints led to a cave. There were fresh marks in the sand—holes and lines."

  "Spikes and tentacles."

  He nodded. "I went inside, but I didn't have any light. I couldn't hear anything. I left and came straight here." He stared in the direction of the pools. "I should have gone after her."

  "And been taken, too. Was there any blood?"

  "Not that I saw."

  She began moving around the lanai, gathering weapons and supplies. "How long was she gone before you noticed?"

  He rubbed his palms up and down his cheeks. "I wasn't asleep long. Between fifteen minutes and an hour."

  "Here's the plan." She stuffed a thin rope and a large, sheathed knife into her pack. "Ke and I go after her while you let Papa Ohe'o know what's going on. Tell him to tell everyone to stay away from the beaches."

  "No way," Alden said. "I have to help get her back."

  "You are. That's why you came to me." She slung her rifle over her shoulder and headed down the steps. "We're getting Ke because I could use a second pair of eyes. And becau
se if I didn't, he'd wear my skin for a cape."

  "I don't see what sense it makes for me to stay out. And who cares about the locals? All that matters is Robi."

  "Wrong. You matter." She loped across the yard toward the road. "What's more important here, your ego, or Robi? What will she do if you get yourself killed saving her?"

  Alden let out a grudging sigh. "Mix herself a poison cocktail. Or head into the caves to go all Kill Bill on the aliens."

  "When did you see Kill Bill? That was way too violent for you back when we had movies."

  He laughed humorlessly. "I probably should have watched more stuff like that. Would have made good training."

  They ran up the trail worn into the grass alongside the creek. Ke was around back, cutting up an old tire, likely for tougher sandals or surfing armor. Seeing Tristan and Alden together, he looked confused; an instant later, his face went hard. "Where is she?"

  "Taken," Tristan said. "Aliens. You and me."

  He nodded. Wordless, he sprinted up the back steps and banged into his house. Ten seconds later, he was back outside, a pistol holstered on his hip, a pack on his shoulders. "Where?"

  She fell in beside him, jogging back to the stream. "Beach below the pools."

  "That close?" Ke glanced at Alden. "You want to go, don't you? Do you know why you can't?"

  Alden shook his head. "Because I have you two to sacrifice in my place."

  "You talk like that ain't right—but that's what we're here for."

  "Why? Don't you deserve lives of your own?"

  "This is my life." Tristan hurdled a root protruding from the damp soil. "I never told you this, but I saw Mom one last time while she was sick. She asked me for one thing: to always keep you safe."

  His voice cracked. "What gave her the right to ask that of you?"

  "The fact you were thirteen. That Dad was gone. And she knew she would be soon, too." She glanced at him. Fresh tears slid down his face. Seeing this, her eyes stung, too. "But you're not a kid anymore, are you? Let's make this the last time."

  "We'll go to the Big Island. Okay? Find ourselves a new home. No aliens. No crazy people. Just us."