Confluence 2: Remanence

by Jennifer Foehner Wells

  “They’ll never listen to me. You must survive.”

  A calm settled over Jane. She stood, swaying, focusing all her mental energy to help Brai concentrate on finding solutions and to route his navigation properly.

  The Speroancora crossed over to the light side of Pliga. The Oblignatus pulled alongside them. Jane had no idea what Ei’Pio was trying to do now, but it seemed suicidal.

  With what little control he had left, Brai steered away from landmasses toward the clearest area in the planet’s ocean within reach.

  Alan burst onto the bridge.

  “Everyone strap in and brace yourselves!” Jane shouted over the roar of atmospheric entry. The ship felt like it was shaking apart around them.

  She stumbled a few steps to fall into the nearest seat and fumbled with the restraints. Everyone else did the same. All she could do was watch the viewscreen and hope they could somehow survive this.

  Brai’s habitat had been fouled. His life support was no longer functioning and the explosion had dumped great caches of food and filtered wastes into the water.

  He was being poisoned. His mental voice was quieting, his ability to create anipraxia fading, his movements slowing.

  Impact.

  Jane’s body slammed against the restraining straps. More pain.

  They skimmed the surface, their velocity reducing marginally. Pieces of the ship continued to break off. Then they went under. The vibration ceased, but they were still moving at an incredible rate, with the Oblignatus right behind them.

  Jane was still alive, and as long as she was still alive, there was hope. “Jaross, assess the hull integrity. Seal off any decks or deck sections that are taking on water or that are vulnerable.”

  “Yes, Qua’dux,” Jaross replied, still calm and focused.

  Jane unlatched herself and went to one of the science consoles to assess the water quality of Pliga’s ocean. She frowned. It was significantly less saline than the water in Brai’s tank, by three-quarters of a percent. Most of Pliga’s land mass was tied up in ice. And though the planet was extremely old, few minerals and salts had leached into the oceans.

  She hoped Brai could handle the shock. And the foreign microbes. And any predators that might be present. He had the squillae to help him fight.

  There was one significant problem. Only one external portal led to the outside from Brai’s habitat. Normally used only for installing a new kuboderan into a ship, it was well above the waterline inside his tank now. She’d have to take drastic measures.

  Her head throbbed. Her whole body ached. She straightened wearily and turned to leave the bridge. “Jaross, take over communication. Anipraxia is offline. We’ll use ship’s comms now.”

  “What are you doing, Jane?” Alan asked.

  “Brai is dying. I’m going to try to save him.”

  “Jane, we’re going to be crushed by several atmospheres of ocean in no time. It won’t matter. We’re all dead.”

  “No. No. We’re not dead yet.” She marched into the corridor outside the bridge. He followed. She located one of several suits of battle armor stored nearby and stripped.

  Alan wordlessly did the same.

  As he peeled off his shirt she noticed the blood. The burns. He was hurt. “Alan, stop. You need medical attention.”

  His jaw was set. “No. It’s minimal. The suit will handle it.”

  She nodded. Wasn’t she doing the same thing? “This is risky. Sectilian power armor isn’t made for use underwater. I don’t know if this will work, but I have to try.”

  He nodded. “NASA tests their suits underwater. It should.”

  The suit threaded and adjusted to her anatomy then went straight into triage mode. Immediately she felt a little better. She took off at a run for the nearest maintenance storage locker. Alan followed. She pulled a laser cutting arc out of the locker and looked at him. “You don’t have to go with me.”

  He looked grim. “I’m going.”

  She felt a surge of gratitude that he would follow her into this without hesitation. He had her back. She could count on him no matter what. That meant so much.

  She handed him the tool then took out another for herself.

  She repeated, “Hang on Brai,” in a mantra over the failing anipraxic link.

  Brai had made his way to the spot farthest from the breach. He didn’t have the energy to do anything but acknowledge that she’d communicated with him. He was still monitoring the ship. Their velocity had been slowed a great deal by the density of Pliga’s ocean. They were drifting now, momentum pushing them forward, gravity pulling them down. The weight of the ocean overhead would start crushing them in a matter of hours as they sank deeper.

  She took off with Alan for the exterior hatch nearest Brai’s current location. When they stepped into the deck transport, the ship lurched again. The heavy suits barely kept them on their feet.

  Alan looked at her, wide-eyed. “We landed on something. Let’s hope it’s something that will hold.”

  Jane triggered the comm in her suit to signal the bridge and waited for Jaross to respond.

  “I’m here, Qua’dux,” Jaross said.

  “Report,” Jane replied.

  “You aren’t going to believe this, QD,” Ron said. “The Oblignatus just put itself under us to keep us from falling to the ocean floor. No idea how she’s doing it.”

  “Holy shit,” Alan muttered. “That squid is fucking crazy!”

  They left the deck transport and Jane sealed off the rest of the deck. The ship creaked and groaned around them as they jogged to the door that led to Brai’s enclosure. Jane triggered the control and stepped out onto the gangway. Water was rising quickly in this intermediary space, spilling out of Brai’s habitat to fill it. She could see reflected light on the churning surface of it under their feet.

  Brai was hovering on the other side of the partition, his body anchored to the glass with suction cups. The water around him was dim and cloudy. His mantle fluttered in a way that looked strange and filled her with fear. His eyes stared dully back at her, but he was alive. Great bubbles of air billowed up in the tank behind him. There was only a few feet of water over his head.

  Alan waved to Brai awkwardly. “Hello, again. Sorry about the explosion.”

  “I’m not sure how this is going to work,” Jane admitted. She was getting fuzzy from fatigue and being tossed around so much. She triggered a dose of stimulant in the suit.

  Alan said, “We open the nearest hatch. Hold on while the water rushes in. We’ll have to wait until the pressure equalizes and fills up this space before we can cut him out.”

  Jane blinked hard as the stimulant started to kick in. “Okay. That makes sense. The cutting tools will work underwater?”

  “Yes,” he said with certainty.

  The hatch wasn’t far away. They left the tank behind and ran down a nearby corridor until they reached it.

  Alan’s helmet went up over his head and he found a cantilever to hold onto projecting from the textured wall about ten feet from the hatch. He was ready.

  “Put your suit in battle mode,” Jane said while activating that function on her own suit. It would protect them better that way.

  She triggered the hatch control and leapt for her own wall shelf to hold onto as the iris opened. Water gushed violently into the corridor, coursing into every corner, churning and splashing up the walls. It quickly found its way into the core of the ship.

  The suit held on for her, locked in a death grip as the water swirled, trying to pull her body into its powerful current.

  She made an effort to relax inside the suit, to save her energy. Who knew what challenge would come up in the next minute, the next hour, the next day? She had to stay calm or she wouldn’t be able to keep them alive.

  It seemed to take forever for the core to fill. She waited, watching the crystal-clear water rise, and tried not to think about what might happen if all this water filled the entire ship. That led to thoughts of her father, and she jus
t couldn’t think about that now. Instead she watched a few small fish, pulled in with the rush of water, dart around the corridor.

  She could still feel Brai’s presence clinging to the transparent wall just a few yards away. “Stay with me,” Jane told him. “I’m coming for you.” He didn’t even acknowledge that she’d said anything.

  As the water finally rose to the level of the hatch, Ron’s voice came back over the comm. “It looks like the Oblignatus is pushing us toward a continental shelf.”

  Relief flooded through her as she let go of the shelf jutting from the wall and sank to the floor of the corridor. Alan was on her heels.

  The suit had no trouble walking through the water. She went carefully though, so an eddy wouldn’t catch her off guard and sweep her off her feet.

  They made their way back to Brai’s tank. In this space the water was just up to the armpits of her suit and still rising. Inside Brai’s enclosure the level was just a little higher. Jane urged Brai to move back so they could cut into the wall and get him out. He was slow to respond, but did as she asked.

  Jane activated her laser arc and began to cut three feet below the waterline, near the base of the gangway. Alan watched for a second, then joined her in cutting. Together they sliced into the clear material, creating an opening that would be about six feet in diameter, though Brai wouldn’t have any trouble getting through a smaller one. When they cut above the waterline on their side, water sizzled and spit as it passed through the laser.

  They stood well away and made the final cuts. The piece of transparent material burst away in a sluice of water. Now that the water was rising from two sources, it quickly rose above the level of the hole they’d cut.

  Brai seemed confused. Jane coaxed him toward the opening but he held back. Jane leaned through to reach for him—slowly, slowly—she was afraid he would bolt. She wasn’t sure he recognized what she was doing or even who she was.

  He didn’t seem to be looking at her anymore. His eyes were unfocused. She gently laid her hand flat against one of his arms. He didn’t move away. She grabbed that arm and pulled him toward her. He didn’t resist, but his suction cups dragged over the smooth, transparent material the tank was made from.

  Carefully, she maneuvered him toward the hole. Now the problem was to get him through. She was glad for the protection of the suit as she scooped up several of his barbed arms. She eased them out carefully so she wouldn’t injure his soft body on the cut edge of the tank.

  Alan quickly added his two hands to the job, pulling one of Brai’s limp tentacles through before it scraped over the lip they’d cut. “This has got to be one of the weirdest things I’ve ever done,” he said.

  Jane didn’t answer. Brai’s mantle continued to flutter. He wasn’t breathing properly. The bad water was pouring out of the tank, contaminating the immediate area.

  “Let’s take him closer to the hatch,” Jane said over the comm.

  She carried Brai’s head and Alan walked behind, supporting his limbs so Brai’s hooklike barbs wouldn’t catch on the grates.

  When they got to the corridor, Jane closed the door between them and Brai’s domain so the dirty water wouldn’t flow into this space. She was surprised the door still worked.

  As they neared the hatch, she thought she started to feel a little more tension developing in Brai’s mantle. He jerked in her arms a couple of times as he filled his mantle and expelled clouds of dirty water. She let him go, flinging her arms wide so he wouldn’t hook on her suit. Alan did the same.

  Brai darted a few feet away, his mantle billowing out, pulling in copious amounts of clean water and expelling it again. His limbs fanned out and then elongated in a mesmerizing, rhythmic dance. She could feel his mental presence strengthening.

  He turned his body, focusing on her, then drifted toward her, raising one tentacle to curve over the face shield. She placed her hand gently over it.

  “I owe you a great debt, Qua’dux Jane Holloway,” he said gravely.

  She smiled. “You don’t owe me anything, Brai. How do you feel?”

  “I am well. This water is extraordinary. It is a cacophony of flavors.” His voice wavered with an element of wonder.

  “I’m sure it’s very different than what you’re accustomed to,” Jane said. She marveled at how close she was to him now. Still technically separated, but able to touch him.

  Brai regarded Alan. “I also owe you a debt of gratitude, Dr. Alan Bergen.”

  Alan frowned. “No problem, buddy. I’m sorry I blew up your…home.”

  Brai didn’t reply. He dropped his tentacle and jetted to the hatch to peer out into the open ocean. The terrain beyond the hatch was dark, but he would be able to see in that dark far better than she could.

  “We’re moving,” he said. He sounded surprised.

  Ron’s voice came over the comm. “You might want to hold on to something, guys. I think we’re about to be dropped off.”

  “Ei’Pio?” Brai said. And then the anipraxic network was fully back in place. Now Ei’Pio was a part of the circle.

  Jane could feel Ei’Pio’s determination as she worked calculations to make the Oblignatus do things that no spacefaring ship was meant to do.

  The decking tilted under Jane’s feet. She slid to the nearest wall and grabbed on to a boxy ledge. Alan tumbled into her, grumbling swear words, then righted himself and clung to one nearby. Brai jetted to the center of the corridor. Fish darted around him, unaware that he was a predator. He watched them in sheer fascination, barely noting the ship’s movement.

  The ship swayed, making ominous creaking noises. A loud, metallic scraping sound thundered through the ship. The ship shuddered, vibrated, and finally came to rest.

  Jane settled back on her feet and reached out to Alan, putting her gloved hand in his. It wasn’t the same as holding his hand had been just a few hours before, but that didn’t matter. She held his gaze. He looked back at her, shaking his head in incredulity. She wished she could kiss him, to celebrate that they’d survived this.

  They were alive and relatively safe, for now. They were together. That was what was important.

  54

  Brai watched Alan and Jane for a moment. Their thoughts were full of warmth and a hunger to touch. He knew he was intruding on something they both felt was private, but it was hard to tear his gaze from this thing they shared. He wanted to understand it.

  Ei’Pio watched through Brai’s eyes, her curiosity rivaling his own. “These terrans are quite different,” she said to him.

  “Indeed they are.” He turned away, suddenly distracted, his eye tracking an unwary fish darting nearby. It was so close he could—

  Instinctively, his tentacles shot out and grabbed it. It flailed in his grasp, but he didn’t let it go. He brought the squirming fish to his beak as though this was something he’d always known to do—like muscle memory, but older, deeper. Once he had it there, though, he hesitated.

  Ei’Pio watched, breathlessly. There was a note of yearning in her mental touch. She urged him to continue, wordlessly.

  The Sectilius thought consuming flesh was disgusting. Was it? Was he a savage because he yearned for his natural diet? Was he like Kai’Memna? Or could he be forgiven for this sin? Was it even a sin? The terrans were carnivores, he knew. They craved flesh and were not ashamed of that.

  The fish struggled in his grasp. It was slippery, but he had a good grip on it.

  He could let it go. He hadn’t injured it yet.

  However, he was hungry and perforce must be practical. He would have to feed his body. His food stores had been destroyed. Eventually need would make this act inevitable. It might as well be done now.

  He sank his beak into it. The fish twitched once more and its life was gone. He devoured the fish because wasting it, after taking its life, would be profligate. He recoiled against the crunching of bones and the metallic tinge of blood in the water around him. He’d never considered these aspects when he’d fantasized of consuming wild fo
od.

  The flesh was fairly flavorless. That was all he could say. It was underwhelming in one sense because he’d given the moment so much gravitas over a lifetime of fantasies. He supposed that he’d expected something more dramatic from his first taste of flesh. But that was the way of things. One cannot anticipate what a moment will truly be like until it arrives.

  Ei’Pio absorbed all of this silently. He let her see it. She’d earned his trust.

  That need satisfied, his thoughts naturally turned toward the open hatch and the freedom of the open ocean on the other side of it. He found himself peering through the opening into the shadowy depths, though the words of Kai’Memna had tainted the desire and made it feel wrong somehow. Cold whispers of current caressed him through the portal, enticing him. He allowed two limbs to traverse the threshold, tasting the open water. Then, a third.

  “Go ahead, Brai,” Jane said. She’d come to stand beside him.

  Something in his ocular implant caught his attention. The sensors he monitored relayed new information. He turned slightly toward her. “I’m tracking a small group of Pligan aquatic vessels en route, Jane. They will arrive within a standard day.”

  She smiled. “This is good news.” There was an urge to touch him in her mind. Humans were rife with these impulses. Touch grounded them.

  He was intrigued by that. He extended a tentacle to her. She met it and wrapped her hand around the circumference of it. Her touch was firm, but gentle. In turn, he allowed his limb to wind around her arm. She squeezed. He squeezed in return. She let go and he reciprocated. This was not a bad feeling. It mirrored her warm thoughts.

  “You truly do not object?” he asked, returning to survey the view on the other side of the hatch.

  “Just be careful.”

  He hesitated. It could be dangerous. He did not know if there were large predators in this sea. But he longed to test the freedom Kai’Memna had spoken so convincingly of, that he himself had long dreamed of.

  “Less dangerous if there are two,” Ei’Pio said, her voice full of excitement and promise.

  Brai blanched. He hadn’t allowed himself to consider this possibility.