She sighed.
“I’m sorry,” whispered Austin. “I stepped on like snot or something.”
“It’s okay.” Sima rolled over onto all fours. “We know this tunnel leads out. Just be careful and we’ll be fine. Falling won’t hurt us. It’s just annoying.”
I’d kill to have those stupid foam slippers. Yeah they were cheap, but they wouldn’t slide.
Sima rubbed her soles clear of slimy algae and attempted the climb again, Lissa’s constant, quiet coughing at her ear all the motivation she needed to stay calm and focused. Fortunately, the tunnel’s width allowed her to keep her hands on both walls, which, being free of water, offered a far less slippery surface to hold on to.
After an arduous twenty-minute endeavor, she reached the end of where water oozed into the tunnel. Not long after that, the tunnel leveled off for a short distance, then bent left around a corner. Sima dashed forward, no longer gripping the walls for support. Falling here wouldn’t send her careening down a waterslide. She raced around the corner and skidded to a stop at a dead end, blocked off by a stone slab with the same glowing circuit-board pattern as the dome room.
“Crap!” shouted Sima, slapping at the wall and kicking it.
Lissa gave her a sad look. “You tried.”
“Wait.” Juan ducked past her. “There’s a button just like the other one.”
The boy poked the stone slab in front of them, aiming his finger at a circular widening in the glowing grooves about two feet up from the floor.
“Weird that the doorbell’s so low. Guess the aliens were short,” said Austin.
“Or they’re snails.” Lissa giggled into a coughing fit. “Crawling around.”
“Maybe the alien snails ate all that slimy stuff?” asked Austin.
Juan made a silly face. “Or it’s their poop!”
“Eww!” yelled Lissa, shivering.
Sima squirmed at the thought, refusing to accept even the idea she might have been ankle-deep in alien poo.
At Juan’s touch, the stone slab sank into the ground, revealing the dome room.
“Yay!” shouted Lissa, bouncing on Sima’s back. “We won’t die!”
The boys exchanged a glance.
Sima tromped out of the tunnel and headed directly for the short entrance corridor, hurrying into the warm daylight. For the first time in her life, near-hundred degree weather felt amazing. She set Lissa down and rolled flat on her back in the grass, arms and legs out to bask in the sun.
The kids all more or less did the same thing.
Screw that cave. We live in the lifeboat.
Once no lips remained blue and all the shivering ceased, Sima rounded everyone up and set a course for ‘home,’ such as it was. About an hour into the walk, Lissa swooned to her knees, clutching at her chest. She tried to cough, but only managed a feeble wheeze.
“Liss!” Sima pounced, grabbing the girl’s shoulders.
Lissa lifted her head with a ‘help me!’ stare, her face already tinted purple.
Terrified and clueless, Sima held the bracelet up to the girl’s back. “What do I do?”
‹Her airway is blocked. I am reading a large mass of phlegm that has partially hardened. Wrap your arms around her from behind, grasp your wrist and pull your hands into her gut as shown.› The mini screen displayed an animation.
Sima did as instructed, pulling so hard she lifted the girl off her feet with each squeeze. The fourth time, a hard nugget of pinkish-grey something shot out of her mouth. Lissa took a huge gulp of air, then proceeded to attempt crying, screaming, and coughing all at the same time. Sima did the only thing she could: held the girl’s quivering little body as she spasmed. Eventually, Lissa spat up blood and wiped her mouth on the back of her arm.
“I think I choked too hard,” rasped Lissa. “Sorry.”
“No, sweetie. It’s not your fault.” Sima cradled her in her arms and stood, carrying her. The child made no effort to move, her arms limp on top of her.
Austin looked up at her, his expression asking if the girl would die.
Silent tears ran down Sima’s cheeks at the mere suggestion. “You’re gonna be okay, sweetie. Just rest, ’kay?”
“Mmm,” said Lissa, closing her eyes.
Every horrible thought Sima ever had about smaller children on Earth came back to torment her as they trekked through the jungle. Faces of kids she hadn’t seen in over a year, ones she hadn’t even known the names of, danced across her mind’s eye. She’d never wished anything truly bad on them, merely wanted them to go somewhere else to beg instead of stealing her money. Had she seen Lissa on Earth, she would’ve been furious with envy. Skinny, adorable, blonde, pale, tiny, and sick. This kid practically oozed glint. She could’ve made a hundred a day without even trying. Even the most heartless Citizen would feel bad for her. Hell, someone probably would’ve taken her home.
And that would’ve made Sima want to stuff her headfirst into an ORC bin.
She cradled Lissa tighter. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” whispered Lissa without opening her eyes.
“For a lot of stuff.” Sima let a long sigh out her nose, and sniffled.
Austin turned away to hide crying. By the time they reached the lifeboat, Sima could barely see past a curtain of tears. She didn’t expect Lissa would make it through the night. At what had become their sleeping spot, she sank to sit in the grass and cradled the weak child in her lap, rocking her side to side while trying to say comforting things between sobs.
“Why are you crying?” asked Lissa.
“I’m sad that you’re not feeling well.” Sima forced a smile.
Lissa opened her eyes. “I’m only tired. We did too much swimming. I’m not supposed to play so hard.”
“That’s right, sweetie. You’re going to be okay.” She’s still cold.
Austin sat beside her and took Lissa’s hand. Juan snuggled in closer. That gave Sima an idea.
“She got too cold,” said Sima. “Austin, come closer. We gotta warm her up.”
He scooted over without hesitation. Sima rolled the girl over so they lay chest to chest, with Austin adding body heat from one side, Juan the other, though he squealed when her feet touched his stomach. She considered suggesting everyone remove their wet clothing, but the fabric didn’t cover much and probably wouldn’t make a lot of difference.
Instead, she huddled as close as she could, listening to the girl’s every breath. An hour became two. Neither boy protested lying still. Sima couldn’t stop crying, but at least she kept silent.
This is so unfair. Why did they do this to us? This kid would’ve had better odds at Magdalena’s!
Sima hated herself for thinking that as soon as she did, mostly for wishing that place on a six-year-old. But, if she were Lissa, Sima would choose that over death. She’d choose that over watching this little girl die.
If I could go back to Earth, I’d do whatever that woman wanted me to if it would keep Lissa alive.
“It’s getting dark,” said Austin in a tone as if he tried to speak at a funeral.
Sima squeezed all three of them, dreading that by morning, she’d only have two kids to watch over. Already, her brain tortured her with wondering where she ought to dig the little grave.
Juan squeaked. “Can’t breathe. You’re squeezing too tight.”
“Sorry,” whispered Sima, relaxing her grip. When she realized they lay in total silence, Sima’s heart stopped.
The constant, repetitive little wheezes had ceased.
18
Monsters
Horrified, Sima relaxed her grip on Lissa and peered down at her.
The girl looked still and peaceful, her eyes closed, arms hanging limp.
“Liss?” whispered Sima.
“I’m hungry,” said Lissa. She opened her eyes.
Sima let out an anguished scream.
Both boys jumped and sat up.
“Okay.” Lissa’s eyes bulged. “I won’t eat.”
Sima
clamped on and sobbed. “I thought you… umm…”
“Sometimes, my breaths get quiet when I feel better. The doctor lady said that’s how I know they helped.”
Austin ran off and grabbed some fruits. Sima about liquefied into a puddle of relief. The girl had regained some color and no longer felt like she’d been stored in a freezer. Grinning, Lissa took the fruit Austin offered and tore into it. Sima continued crying, but out of happiness.
What’s wrong with me? She wiped her eyes. I really need to stop overreacting. I’ve known this kid for a couple days. Why am I getting so upset? Once the shock of nearly watching Lissa take her last breath for a second time faded from mind numbing to nerve-wracking, she allowed herself to eat a pair of fruits. Whatever happened to Lissa had been a warning. She should try to keep the girl from overexerting herself or spending too much time in cold water. Maybe she didn’t have to worry the girl would drop dead at any minute—as long as she remained vigilant. One little mistake would be costly.
After eating, they resumed a group snuggle and settled down for the night.
Lissa awoke soon after dawn with a bad coughing fit.
Her little body convulsed and twisted, barking-goose sounds coming from her so loud Sima expected the child’s lungs to fly out of her mouth at any minute. She couldn’t think of anything to do other than hold her tight and clap her on the back. Grey-pink globs of phlegm eventually fell from her mouth. Lissa doubled over, shivering and red-faced. Austin grimaced at the substance and covered his mouth, holding back vomit.
After a few breaths, she burst into tears, whining, “Ow. Ow. Ow.”
Sima rocked her, cradling the back of her head.
The boys wandered off to pee, returning in a few minutes. They sat and waited patiently until Lissa quieted down and stopped crying. Sima lowered the girl into her lap and checked her over, but saw no blood, bruises, or other signs of alarm.
“Bracelet, can you check her?”
The pyramid of blue laser light appeared, projecting a grid on the girl’s chest.
Lissa’s eyes sparkled. “Ooh. That’s pretty.”
‹Her lungs are producing phlegm. There’s evidence of scar tissue consistent with tumor removal, though I do not detect any cancer. Her lung tissue is damaged, but I lack sufficient medical archives to interpret the scan data.›
Sima rubbed the girl’s back and patted her while making sure she drank a good amount of water. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” Lissa nodded.
“Okay. You three stay here, okay? I’m gonna go get some fruit and water.”
Lissa pouted. “Aww.”
“We did a lot of walking around yesterday. Recharge your batteries today.”
The girl folded her arms. “I don’t have batteries.”
Juan dashed out of the weeds carrying a pair of slightly floppy branches. He tossed one to Austin, and the instinctual reaction of boys to any vaguely sword-shaped object followed: they began walloping each other.
“Hey,” yelled Sima at a particularly loud thwap. “Easy. You can play swords, but don’t hurt each other. There aren’t any doctors here.”
“Okay,” said Austin.
They resumed their swordfight but more or less slapped their ‘weapons’ together instead of hitting each other.
Sima hurried off with the plastic bottle, leaving Lissa pouty but obediently sitting still. The nearest creek sat a twelve-minute walk away according to the clock showing on the bracelet’s map.
“Is that Earth time?” asked Sima.
‹This planet’s arrangement and resemblance to Earth are so close, the scientists did not believe their eyes. Hence, Mirage. Technically, this planet has a day length of twenty-four hours plus six minutes. The Progenitor team decided to ignore that six minutes, allowing for twenty-four hour days separated by a ‘between’ period six minutes long. I have rewritten my chrono app to this standard.›
“So it’s 7:18 a.m. here then.”
‹Yes.›
Upon reaching the small river, Sima filled the water jug and headed back without wasting time. Having the kids out of her sight made her nervous that something would happen to them. Roughly halfway back to the lifeboat, she veered deeper into the foliage to harvest a dozen fruits from a low-hanging pod.
Walking back ‘home’ with her arms full proved a challenge. Every few steps, a fruit would fall to the ground. She’d stop, set the jug down, and recover the fruit only to walk a little more and drop another piece.
When she crouched the sixth time to pick up a dropped fruit, her eyes focused on a terrifying mark in the ground: an animal track much like a cat’s, only big enough that she could stand on top of it with her feet together and still not cover it all.
“Whoa,” whispered Sima. “What is that?”
‹Insufficient information in your request. Please define ‘that.’›
She squatted, let the fruits tumble to the ground at her side, and held the bracelet out to the track. “This footprint. What made it?”
Laser light flickered over the soil for a few seconds.
‹This appears to be the track of a large feline creature. Based on the paw width and print depth, I estimate the creature’s weight at around 400-500 pounds. Assuming its bodily structure is at all comparable to Earth cats, its shoulder height would be about four feet off the ground. The closest species I can relate it to would be a tiger, however some tigers have reached in excess of 1,000 pounds.›
“Umm… what’s a tiger?” asked Sima.
‹A large jungle cat that went extinct in 2208.› The holo-screen played a short video showing a huge orange-black-and-white feline standing in a cage and roaring.
“That’s only a little scary.” Sima poked a finger at one of the holes in the dirt in front of the print. “This thing has claws.”
‹Paw pad shape and arrangement suggests a feline-type animal, so claws are highly likely.›
“Hope they don’t like the taste of human.” Sima shivered. “Damn… we’ve been sleeping outside at night like a buffet.”
‹This track was not here yesterday.›
She gulped. “The kids are alone!”
‹This creature has not attacked them, and they have not seen it.›
“How can you know that!” she yelled.
‹We are close enough to hear their screams.›
Sima grabbed the bracelet, intending to tear it off. “How can you be so heartless? They’re only kids!”
‹I am merely stating fact. Please do not panic.›
Snarling, she hastily gathered up the fruits and water jug. One fruit fell as she hurried onward, but she didn’t bother going back for it. Soon, the repetitive thudding of rubbery-branch sword fighting eased her nerves. She dashed into the grassy clearing and breathed a sigh of relief at everyone unhurt.
Lissa played with a strand of flowers, attempting to weave it around her ankle, but it kept crumbling apart. Unperturbed, she gathered more and began anew.
“Food,” said Sima, jogging over to sit by Lissa.
The boys came running.
“I really want a burger,” said Austin.
Juan glanced at him. “You ain’t got enough glint.”
“Yeah I do. I had like 400 before the cops got me.”
“Nuh uh!” yelled Juan. “That’s not a real number.”
“Sure it is,” said Austin before taking a bite of fruit and cringing.
Juan looked over at Sima. “Is there a 400?”
“Yeah. That’s a ton of glint.” Sima raised an eyebrow. “How did you get so much?”
“Begging.” Austin gave her the same huge-eyed stare he hit her with when she first saw him trapped in a stasis pod. “Women can’t resist. One even wanted to take me home, but her friend wouldn’t let her.”
“Wow,” said Lissa.
Sima squinted at him. Even a kid as adorably pathetic as Austin could make himself look would be hard-pressed to beg 400 glint in a short enough timeframe to accrue such an amount before sp
ending it on food. And, she doubted an eleven-year-old boy would be able to resist blowing his money on fun stuff. If he wasn’t simply lying about having that much, it suggested he acquired a lot of glint over a short amount of time. She suspected he’d run jobs for Nalas, or someone like him. Or maybe he’d done something to wind up sporting a fancy pink Juvenile Inmate jumpsuit. Having seen him dive on Lissa to save her from drowning, she doubted he would have been violent, so a thief if anything.
After they ate, the boys resumed play fighting with branches. Lissa continued trying to make jewelry out of the tiny wildflowers. Sima studied the map on the Omnicomputer, plotting out potential search routes that may lead her to other lifeboats or debris. Given how close the kids had been to suffocating, she doubted any other survivors remained alive. Then again, the lifeboat behind her had apparently suffered a direct hit from something external that damaged it. Her stasis pod lid worked when she hit the button, so barring damage, it sounded plausible for others to have made it. Though, she had no idea how widespread landing sites could be. The grim thought that she and the kids had been in lifeboats all the way at the back end of the ship could also mean none of the others even survived long enough to be launched. In a bad enough scenario, the best she’d find would be chunks of hull somewhere. Perhaps something useful survived the crash. Some part of that ship had to have supplies on it. Maybe a few boxes of clothes had made it to the surface. Hopefully, they wouldn’t be on another continent.
“How far apart would other lifeboats be?”
‹That would depend on the altitude at which the Progenitor broke apart. Assuming that it did break apart. It may have jettisoned the lifeboats and crashed whole into the surface somewhere.›
“Do you have any way to tell how high up we were when the lifeboats launched?” asked Sima.
‹Normally, that information would have been recorded, but your lifeboat was not officially active, nor was the one behind us, so the flight recorders did not turn on.›
“Figures.”
She spent the day mostly staring at maps, dividing her attention between that, the woods, and the kids. Swordplay got boring after a while, and the boys decided to explore the nearby jungle. Sima shouted at them to stay in sight. Lissa got up and tried chasing small butterfly like insects with all-white wings, but only lasted a few minutes before she resigned herself to walking around and giggling at the grass tickling her. Eventually, she collected some larger blue floral vines and once again sat beside Sima attempting to make an anklet.
Out of Sight (Progenitor Book 1) Page 22