Exigency

by Michael Siemsen

  Through a fogged visor, Aether watched as all but their skimmer vanished. For a moment it looked as though the vehicle would float there, perfectly fine. Why had she worried? Didn’t she know they’d all been built to float?

  Water drilled its way into the skimmer’s every orifice, filling the outer shell, and the heavier front end tilted forward, dunking under. The round white pad bobbed for a few fleeting seconds, then rapidly sank amid a hissing fizz of tiny bubbles.

  3.9

  “What good is sleep? I’ve never accomplished anything beneath a sheet.”

  Plodding across the barren beach, Onjr, Leeg, and Fitchsher walking ahead, Minnie’s eyes sore from brackish air and sleepless night, she recalled the quote from an odd book Zisa had sent her. Diary of the Sterile and Sleepless, or maybe The Infertile Insomniac Journal. 300 digitized pages of half-depressing, half-psychedelic rambling from a barren woman in Shenzhen, ending with a failed adoption. When she’d finished it—the whole time waiting to reach whatever profound meaning Zisa had wanted her to glean from it—she sent a pic of the last page to Zisa along with “WTH?”

  “Wasn’t it just bokeh?!” Zisa had replied.

  A) Minnie hated when Zisa tried to casually add into station vernacular the “new” 20-year-old Earth slang she’d just acquired from a supply pod’s catalogue, as if these were normal words that everyone used on a daily basis.

  B) How many actually useful things could Minnie have read/done/watched/played instead of reading this crap?

  “You know, because you talk about insomnia sometimes, and because we’ll never have babies.”

  “You’re an idiot,” Minnie had replied.

  What an absolute bitch Minnie had been. What the hell could Aether have possibly seen in her? Her delusion about John and Aether conspiring against her maybe wasn’t so loonish. It seemed like they were all such close friends, her clique—Minnie, Tom, Angela, Pablo, Qin—but was she just the station bully, and they were the ones sure to remain on her good side? Conversations outside her presence … What happened in those? And not just John and Aether. Had she ever snapped at Tom? Qin? Did Qin hate the nickname Chinstrap? Was it racist? Did Minnie’s occasional Ish snubs contribute to Ish’s withdrawal and isolation, essentially pushing her into her fantasy world, placing responsibility for this entire situation squarely on Minnie’s shoulders? It all seemed very, very plausible—nigh conclusive. Aether and John would do anything to ensure crew—community—wellbeing.

  Or were these thoughts more chemical demons, the initial signs of her next full-on attack? Were Fitchsher and Onjr, and Leeg even real? An intelligent, friendly Hynka nuclear family of interbreeding Oss Khoss and Khoss Feej—Greaters and Lessers—sharing with her a pleasant artificial campfire in the middle of nowhere? Sure, that all sounded perfectly legit.

  She’d felt the familiar trickle of endorphins the night before, communicating with the Hynka. Her glands had recharged. It would be a little early yet, but she was primed for another episode. However, this awareness only served to validate her questionable suspicions. It was too soon for her thoughts to be paranoid or delusional. Her judgment was clearly sharp.

  Oh, really? So was it mere lack of sleep that led to Zisa’s book, leading to guilt and insecurity, doom and gloom, John and Aether? Real sharp, babe.

  Minnie looked up at the Hynkas’ backs, Onjr with a cautious arm floating near Leeg, ready to help her along if she faltered. Leeg, her lumpy, pregnant pouch hidden beneath a freshly sewn fur cloak.

  What would be the fallout of Minnie sharing such technology with them? And did she really care? Tear some thin strips, take a sharp tooth, poke holes in the skins, stitch. Was it like handing a nuke to tribals? Please.

  Now she was exchanging other survival skills. Their insistence on continuing north would lead them to certain death, but maybe her lessons would help to delay it a bit.

  She glanced up and saw up ahead the cave from her map.

  “There, wall, hole,” her PA called out to them.

  A few minutes later, Fitchsher said, “Uh pohtz.” He was pointing to the cave.

  Minnie added pohtz:cave to the DB. Overnight, she’d grown the catalogue by more than 200 words.

  She pointed to the cave, testing the new word. Fitchsher confirmed she said it correctly and lumbered on. It was fun for Fitchsher. He was very childlike, maybe around three years old, she guessed by his size.

  And Onjr, a full meter taller, fingers and thumbs riddled with scars—Minnie got him, too. Just a surly, impatient, protective husband and father without a verbal filter: “Yeah, I’ll say it—she smells like damned food, okay?” And it was true. Not only was her environment shirt specked with dry milk from her delightful nursing session with Mama, but she’d had an unsealed pocket full of bunny jerky. They’d all had the Hynka equivalent of a good laugh about it, later that night.

  It was hard to form much of a read on Leeg, other than seeming to be in charge and in pain. She was worried for her baby’s survival, while somehow certain that it would grow into a disloyal, murderous thing. Apparently, she had little faith in her parenting skills, even with such a fine lad as Fitchsher to prove her abilities.

  Fixated on Onjr’s attentive hand, Minnie wondered if the Greaters, as a breed, would really go extinct, and if they’d take the Lessers down with them. A village of ostensibly enlightened Hynka like this family could launch a highly advanced civilization. Then again, they exhibited intelligence and behavior unlike any Greaters or Lessers that Ish (or Minnie) had observed. They’d somehow taken a giant step ahead of their species. Onjr had also tried to explain this the night before, but the DB simply didn’t have the vocabulary to extract an intelligible interpretation. He’d mentioned a place name, times (before and after the place), and indicated Fitchsher’s size back then. All Minnie could extrapolate was that Onjr and Leeg remembered thinking one way, went to some “red place,” and then thought another way after. It smelled of religion, but she really had no clue.

  If this family actually represented some leap in Hynka evolution, the Greaters were still the prevailing force—a crushing foot upon any subversion by passive progressives of either breed. Harsh reality: nature troubles not with justice.

  Inside the cave, Minnie highlighted a precarious slab in the roof. “Bad. Fall.”

  Leeg rested her legs in a large nook at the deepest end, leaning on a shoulder. “Stay here.”

  Minnie knelt down and brushed some rocks aside. A thin sheet of ice lay above sandy soil. She broke the ice and examined the soil. Saturated.

  “Bad cave,” Minnie said. “Water come from there. Big water.” She mimed a crashing wave and water rushing in.

  Fitchsher copied her wave gesture. “Rwitz pyj. Pyyyj.”

  She added pyj:wave to the DB. “Yes. Bad wave. Water close bad.”

  Onjr pushed a mass of smooth rocks gathered along one wall into a pile at the cave entrance, building a small wall. He looked at Minnie and hung a hand a meter above the mound. “Wall. No wave.”

  Minnie stepped to the outside of the pile, gently pushing the loose rocks with her boot. “Wave strong. Wall weak.”

  Onjr snorted and swatted the top of the heap toward Minnie. A dozen strikes against her legs; only a clap against one kneecap smarted.

  “No!” Fitchsher barked at his father.

  Onjr grumbled and went to Leeg.

  “Onjr stop,” Minnie said. “Minnie show no fire.”

  Hearing this threat, Fitchsher tramped to Onjr. “Nnn-nee show no fire! Onjr bad!” He shoved Onjr’s back with a violent shoulder, inadvertently pushing him toward Leeg. Onjr stopped himself with a foot against the wall.

  Crap, not another fight.

  “Minnie show fire!” she announced as Onjr righted himself. “Show fire now. Come.”

  Both males stared at her with glistening eyes.

  “Show fire now?” Onjr said.

  “Yes. Come.”

  As if the conflict had never begun, Fitchsher strode toward her, and
Onjr aided Leeg to her feet.

  Epsy’s first dysfunctional family.

  With the morning sun in their eyes, they exited the cave.

  An eager Fitchsher gestured to the ground between them. “Fire here?”

  “No.” She picked up a rock and asked what it was called. “It?”

  “Khohsh.”

  “Rock fire no.” She pointed to a band of brown soil up the cliff face. “Dirt fire no.”

  He understood. “Yes. Fire no.”

  Minnie attempted to mime blowing wind. Fitchsher didn’t get it.

  “Tcheesh,” Onjr explained to Fitchsher.

  Fitchsher jolted a little, mouth wide, and made his own blowing wind motions. “Yes! Tcheesh! Tcheesh!”

  Minnie smiled, despite her exhaustion. Fitchsher reminded her of her ferret, Noodle. “Yes. Small wind fire yes. Big wind fire no. Here fire,” she indicated the entire beach, “big hard.”

  “Rock no, fire no, big hard!” Onjr groused. “Where fire yes?”

  ALERTS: Direct Connect request from Aether.

  What the—?

  Alert from what? Something wrong with the skimmer? A DC … Why would it say Aeth—

  Minnie looked past Fitchsher, down the beach, then turned to the ocean. Only blinding sun and glinting water. Nothing in sight … No, something—an odd shape beyond the cresting waves and swells. A white arch—the top of an EV—no, a skimmer. A skimmer. A SKIMMER!

  Breakers fell, swells shifted, and a jumble of silhouettes bracketed the skimmer. She zoomed in, light sensors struggling to balance the sunlight, focusing. Where … Where was she … Where was—

  Aether.

  And right there, standing tall on the skimmer, Aether wore an expression that erased any ridiculous fear of manufactured love.

  Minnie’s knuckles cracked in front of her. Her fingers had smashed against something hard. The helmet. Visor.

  Wow. And she saw that.

  Laughing, Minnie looked up and saw Aether doing the same.

  Now what? What was Aether waiting for? She was on an afvrik. Threck busying themselves. Pablo, too! This was real. This was happening. What did Minnie need to do? Why no instructions? Why—

  Oh jeez … the DC. Haven’t accepted it.

  What to say? What had she planned before? There were perfect words to be said. Aether would have perfect words. Minnie accepted the DC request, tossing out the chaotic jumble in her head without thinking.

  MINNIE: No wrds

  MINNIE: o.M

  MINNIE: OMG

  AETHER: Well hello, stranger.

  She felt like her throat would seal up, her brain about ready to hang the CLOSED sign, BACK IN FOUR MONTHS—mind employees letting the heart folks know their shift’s about to begin—all before she could even wrap her arms around that woman. Why the hell was Aether just standing there? She should be flying the 300 damned meters between them, jumping off the skimmer, and into her effing arms!

  MINNIE: GET THE EFF OVER HERE, YOU.

  MINNIE: Before I swim out there. I swear I will.

  AETHER: You made some new friends…

  New fr—Crap! Of course!

  The world around her, the ground beneath her feet, all reappeared. Fitchsher was staring at her. Had he been talking? It didn’t matter. They had to go. They’d have to figure out fire starting on their own time.

  “Minnie clan here,” she explained. “Clan see Greaters only. See Fitchsher, Leeg, Onjr, Greaters. Clan kill Greaters.”

  Onjr stiffened, his hulking body growing even larger, and he moved closer to Leeg.

  “Where clan?” Fitchsher asked, perplexed. Minnie pointed. He scanned the horizon. “Water clan?”

  “Clan come here?” Leeg said.

  “Greaters no,” Fitchsher said. “Nnn-nee clan, show clan Greaters no. Leeg Greater no more.”

  Onjr began tugging Fitchsher’s arm.

  “Come!” Onjr barked, and trod away with Leeg.

  Fitchsher stumbled backward a few steps, then gawked at Minnie, unsure. He wasn’t ready to leave her. No goodbyes, if he was aware of such a thing.

  Onjr called back, mushing Fitchsher on.

  Minnie whispered behind her visor, “Sorry.”

  AETHER: We’ve got some jumpy Threck over here. You’re buddies going to scram or what? Tell me what we should do.

  Handled. Now get your butt over here.

  MINNIE: All clear. My camp is inland. Tons of supplies. Or should I leave them? I honestly don’t care at this point.

  AETHER: Where’s John? Ish?

  She didn’t know. Of course she didn’t. How would she?

  MINNIE: It’s just me.

  Aether’s body seemed to deflate. A hand went to her neck. She looked lost.

  AETHER: Are you sure?

  What to say? She didn’t want it to be true. This shouldn’t be happening over M’s. Minnie couldn’t go to her. They couldn’t go to each other in that second.

  MINNIE: Yes. I’m so sorry.

  MINNIE: I have something to give you from him.

  Some sort of commotion, Aether arguing with one of the Threck. Tentacles waving about. Something had gone wrong. The afvrik was hurt. One of the Threck missing. No, something to do with Aether, Pablo, Minnie. She’d said the Threck were worried about the Hynka. Could that be it? They’d seen Minnie with Hynka and interpreted some sort of alliance? Such theories seemed below the Threck.

  Or not. Minnie watched with horror as Aether and Pablo were lifted into the air, walked to the edge of the afvrik, and hurled out to open water.

  * * *

  The tip of the skimmer vanished below. Two helmets bobbed at the surface.

  Boots glued to the beach’s rocks, Minnie began a new M, interrupted by one incoming.

  AETHER: We’re OK. Don’t move. Coming to you.

  Minnie held the flood of questions filling her head.

  MINNIE: OK.

  For a while she observed little progress until the helmets began rising and falling over growing swells as they neared the cresting surf. She scanned the terrain beneath the surface in search of rocks or anything else the pair might encounter after a violent break. There was ample clearance and their inflated suits would keep them from sinking too deep.

  They climbed a high wave just before its break, disappearing behind it, and a moment later, reached their turn. The ominous shade projected over them, rising and collapsing into a rumbling wash.

  Orange orbs seemed to roll atop the white lather, and then their arms appeared, right, left, right, propelling them closer, closer, to the second and third ranks of breakers.

  Minnie leaned, worked her knees, longed to run into the surf, but stayed. She’d said to stay. She’d said she was coming to her.

  Both found their footing, held hands for balance, slogging now through waist-deep outflow, free hands scooping, closer. Aether’s eyes met Minnie’s. Aether stuck out her tongue, rolled her eyes, dragged a leg forward—a grueling exhibition of the longest yard.

  On the beach, finally, Pablo dropped to his knees. Aether remained on her feet, shoulders slumped, a few meters from Minnie. She unsealed her helmet and pulled it off. Minnie removed her own and let it fall to the rocks, her white weather cap remaining on her head.

  “Hey,” Aether said, panting.

  Minnie’s eyes blurred as her smiling lips trembled. “Hi.” She tried to move but was stuck, as if she needed permission to go to her. She tried to ask, her mouth opening but no words escaping. She moved a hand, a tiny movement—may I?

  Aether closed her eyes, dropped her helmet, and held out her palms, fingers curling—c’mere.

  Minnie’s legs moved like Frankenstein’s monster, heels digging between clacking rocks, arms rising as she came upon her. She knew this moment already, knew exactly how her arms would wrap around Aether’s back, her face would squish into Aether’s chest, and she’d squeeze and collapse against a sturdy body. But she was wrong.

  They collapsed into each other—two withered, boneless bodies m
elting together. Two overwhelmed, exhausted, depleted minds with so much to say and no energy or desire to say any of it. So they sobbed and their chests quaked and the sounds of pounding waves seemed all too fitting.

  Their grips gradually eased and Minnie peered up at Aether’s face. “That was from John.”

  Aether choked a little, nodded and blinked rapidly, lips curling and compressing, fresh tears streaming down frosty trails. Her lips were turning purple; her whole face was a bit blue.

  Minnie let go, picked up Aether’s helmet, and helped her put it back on. “You need to warm up.”

  Intense eyes glued to Minnie’s, Aether wiped away the tears and lowered her visor until it was open just a crack.

  “Hey, Minnie,” Pablo said.

  Pablo!

  She felt awful. She’d forgotten he was there. “Come here, you!” She threw her arms around him and he lifted her off the ground, waving her left and right. “So good to see you … and not just ‘cause you’re here to save my life.”

  He chuckled. “Well, we’ll see how much saving—ho hey-hey-hey, what’s this?” Pablo set her down and tried to check beneath her cap. The gauze over her ear must have been peeking out.

  She smiled, grabbed his hand, and squeezed it lovingly. “A little project for you. But later.” She turned back to Aether, whose focus had shifted southward, down the beach.

  “Where’d your friends go?” Aether asked.

  Minnie cocked her head to the sea. “I was literally about to ask you the same thing.”

  Aether cast a scowl to the horizon. “Biggest hole you’ll ever meet, and they put her in charge of our afvrik. She’s gone and not coming back.”

  Minnie pointed past the surf. “What about that one?”

  Aether spun round and spied the other afvrik that had been hanging out since the first one left. “Tunhkset! She stayed!”

  The afvrik’s handler made a gesture Minnie recognized at once. “Come now.”

  Lined up in one row across the bobbing creature’s back, the rest of the Threck echoed their leader, “Come now.”