Out of Sight (Progenitor Book 1)

by Matthew S. Cox

  “…Out,” said Sima. She braced for another fistfight, but within a minute or two, the boys wound up laughing like idiots. “I do not understand boys at all.”

  “They’re stupid,” whispered Lissa. “Why are they hitting each other?”

  “Oh, I think they want to practice in case they have to protect themselves from another monster.”

  Lissa nodded, then made a pensive face. “Do monsters have nuts?”

  Sima fell backward, flat on her back, laughing.

  “What?” asked Lissa, peering over at her.

  “I guess.” She shrugged. “Maybe they do.”

  Inspired by Sima’s ‘skirt,’ Lissa got up and roamed for a little while, collecting strands of wildflowers and grass. She carried them back over and sat beside Sima, winding them around her waist and braiding them into a decoration.

  Daylight began to fade, so the boys hurried over to stay close to the lifeboat in case the Night Scratch emerged early. A distant bang went off in the sky. Everyone looked up at a flickering fire trail racing from right to left across a swath of indigo and cyan. It lasted only seconds before disappearing with a flash.

  “A shooting star,” said Austin.

  “Make a wish.” Sima smiled and closed her eyes. I wish my kids will survive here.

  “I want either real clothes or a Wondercube,” said Austin.

  “Wondercube won’t do anything without ’lectric,” said Juan.

  Lissa rubbed her chest. “I wish for new breaths.”

  Juan looked up at Sima. “I wish you were my real mom.”

  Sima covered her mouth, staring at him with tears brewing at the corners of her eyes.

  “I know you can’t be,” said Juan, “’cause I’m like already born and stuff.”

  “Doesn’t gotta be that,” said Austin. “A mom’s not only who had the baby, it’s who’s ready to take on a giant quill cat with an axe to protect you.”

  Sima ruffled his hair, trying not to cry. It took her a moment to figure out where her voice went. “I, umm, can’t really do anything about getting a new Wondercube, or giving Lissa new breaths, no matter how much I want to. I’m still trying to find some way to make clothes.” She flicked at the leaves in her lap. “This didn’t really work.”

  The kids chuckled.

  “But, I guess I can be Mom if you guys want.”

  “Yeah!” Juan leapt into a hug.

  Lissa grinned at her. “Duh. You already are.”

  “Sure.” Austin blushed and glanced off at the jungle. “Mom.”

  With a playful snarl, Sima flung an arm around him and pulled him into a hug.

  A rippling series of bangs filled the distant sky in a brief firework show.

  “Wow.” Lissa stared. “So pretty.”

  “What was that?” asked Juan.

  “Probably junk from the ship,” said Austin.

  Sima cringed at the reminder of how lucky they had been to remain alive. “We should go inside. It’ll be dark soon.”

  The kids got up without protest and filed through the hatch into the lifeboat. Sima stood, stared for a long moment at the sky where the flare up happened, and hurried behind the safety of a closed door.

  27

  Sick Pixie

  An hour into a foraging trip the next afternoon, Austin came running over holding a burned metal scrap. “Hey, I found stuff!”

  Sima scratched at her side. Attempting to sleep in the skirt had left a few small cuts all the way around her middle from the broken leaf ends digging into her skin, so she’d abandoned it as a failed project.

  “There’s a bunch of stuff over there.” Austin pointed.

  She followed him for a short distance, forcing her way past thick undergrowth to where dozens of metal scraps lay strewn about patches of burned jungle. “Whoa. This couldn’t have been the same stuff we saw last night. That was too far away.”

  “It’s definitely from the ship,” said Austin. “But it’s all junk.”

  They spent the better part of an hour checking over the debris. Some of the larger pieces, as big as food storage cabinets, offered hope, but contained only mechanical parts. She certainly did not need more junk metal. The lifeboat had plenty of that already.

  Giving up on any of the wreckage being useful, she continued roaming into the jungle. Today’s journey traveled southeast away from the lifeboat, another direction they had not yet gone. A little over three miles away, she found a swath of plants with long, green fruiting bodies. The small ones stood about three feet tall, seven or eight inches around at the wide end.

  “What is this?” she held the bracelet up to one, and the blue laser pyramid appeared.

  ‹Analysis suggests this is similar to a zucchini or squash. It is edible, but would likely taste better if cooked. However, the plant matter is rich in nutrients. I strongly advise harvesting these for food. In fact, if you locate the means to mash them into paste, you may even be able to feed the resulting liquid into the fabricator to be reconfigured into meat.›

  “Awesome!” shouted Sima.

  All three kids jumped.

  “What?” asked Austin.

  She explained their new wonderfood.

  “Ugh. Vegetables,” said Austin.

  “Any food is good food.” Juan shook his head. “Even space cucumbers.”

  “I don’t like how they taste,” said Austin.

  “You haven’t even tried it yet.” Lissa flailed her arms at him.

  “I don’t like how starving tastes.” Juan frowned.

  Sima patted Austin on the shoulder. “Well, you all voted me ‘Mom,’ and I don’t want you getting sick. So, we’re going to start eating this plant. Not all the time, but we need to have it. And it might work in the fabricator so we won’t run out of chicken.”

  “Okay.” He sighed, and chopped a few free with his axe.

  One of the ‘space cucumbers’ would provide two full meals for everyone, so Sima didn’t want to harvest too many at once. Lissa struggled to carry one of the huge squash. Sima carried a bundle of five, which almost overloaded her. Juan tried to take two, but couldn’t quite manage it. Austin took three, but the effort at the limit of his strength reddened his face.

  Everyone focused on their burden, no one wasting breath on conversation as they walked back to the lifeboat. Since Sima couldn’t see the bracelet’s screen, she asked it to steer her with beeps. Two to turn left, three to turn right, and a single beep if she went the correct way.

  Not long after the surroundings became familiar, a soft thump happened behind her.

  Sima glanced over her shoulder.

  Lissa had collapsed face down, and didn’t try to get back up.

  “No!” She dropped her bundle of vegetables and ran over to the tiny girl. “Lissa!”

  When the child didn’t react, Sima grabbed her shoulder and rolled her over on her back.

  Austin skidded to a halt on his knees nearby and stuck his ear over her mouth. “She’s not breathing! Do the CPR stuff!”

  “I uhh… never learned that.” Sima looked around in a panic.

  “I got it.” Austin braced a hand at the back of Lissa’s neck, pinched her nose, and breathed into her mouth.

  Sima checked the girl’s pulse at the wrist, calming a little when she detected a heartbeat.

  “Ugh.” Austin spat to the side. “She tastes like cherry.”

  Pixie. Sima clenched her hands in anger. If that girl’s parents hadn’t already been dead, she would’ve gone straight back to Earth and shown them her axe. “It’s the bad chemicals she breathed. Don’t inhale it.”

  He nodded and blew into her mouth a few more times.

  After a few horrible seconds of nothing happening, Lissa lapsed into a coughing fit. Sima helped her sit up and held her over sideways while patting her on the back. She threw up a little bile, then hacked out a glob of pink-grey phlegm. Wheezing and choking, Lissa clutched at her throat and convulsed. Sima wrapped her arms around Lissa’s middle and gave a few, s
harp squeezes until another blob of mucous flew out of her mouth.

  Juan and Austin stepped back from it.

  Deep breaths whistled in Lissa’s chest, making her sound like a broken flute. She gasped a few times, coughed once more, and erupted in sobs. Sima cradled her, rocking her side to side until she calmed.

  I shouldn’t let her carry anything… or walk three damn miles. I should be carrying her that far.

  “I’m sorry for being weak,” whispered Lissa, sounding dazed.

  “It’s not your fault, sweetie.” Sima kept rocking her. “That poison you breathed was not your fault.”

  Lissa clung.

  “Me an’ Juan’ll get the food,” said Austin. “It’s not far from the lifeboat here.”

  “Okay.” Sima wobbled to her feet, carrying Lissa the last few hundred yards to the clearing around the lifeboat.

  At the door, she sat in the grass and fed Lissa a few mouthfuls of water. The boys ran back and forth, each taking two of the big green squash per trip. When they dropped the last of them in a heap, they drank the rest of the jug empty. Everyone sat around resting in silence for a few minutes.

  Austin stood with the jug. “Be back in a bit.”

  “Where do you think you’re going?” asked Sima.

  “To get water.”

  “Don’t go off alone.”

  He pointed at her. “You need to stay with Lissa. It’s okay. I know how to get to the river and I’ll come right back.” He took three steps before spinning back to smile at her. “And I won’t pee on any big red flowers.”

  She couldn’t quite laugh, but nodded.

  “Bad people killed Mommy and Daddy,” said Lissa in a half-awake whisper.

  “I know, sweetie.” Sima brushed blonde hair off the girl’s face. “Those bad people are very far away. They can never hurt you again.”

  “Mommy and Daddy were bad too. That’s why the bad people hurt them. They wanted glint and Daddy didn’t have it. Daddy’s stuff made me so sick I couldn’t even stand up.”

  “You’re much better now.” Sima gave up fighting tears, and wept openly.

  Juan sat on her left, leaning against her arm and watching Lissa’s face.

  “Orange ran away ’cause the shooting.” Lissa twitched and coughed. Pink liquid dribbled out of the corner of her mouth. “I tried to find her, but I fell in the street. Other kids brought me to the nice man, but I couldn’t beg. He let me stay inna bed, and they gave me food. The cops said they would give me new breaths if I let them send me to space. Did they lie?”

  Sima stared down at the girl’s frail chest. “No. I think they gave you medicine. You had a lot of bad things inside you and they’re gone now.”

  Lissa’s breathing slowed. For a terrifying minute, she seemed to stop moving entirely, but her eyes shifted to meet Sima’s. “Am I gonna die? My breaths hurt.”

  This planet is going to kill all of us. She couldn’t bear the truth that Lissa would succumb first. Her brittle condition did not lend itself to the rigors of living in a wilderness. When that EGSF man had carried her onto the ship, she had seemed so happy and hopeful. That made the sight of her now, draped across Sima’s lap barely alive, hurt so much more.

  “No, sweetie. You’re going to be fine.”

  Lissa reached up a weak hand and touched Sima’s cheek. “Thank you for making me feel better. I know I’m not gonna grow up, but I’m happy you’re my Mom.” She coughed hard again a few times, but settled down to labored breathing.

  At another dribble of pink liquid oozing from the girl’s mouth, Sima flashed back to standing in the sewer watching the Outcasts from her Crash toss Draz into the flow. ‘Floating the dead,’ as they called it. Her mind tortured her, replacing the overdosed teen with the body of a tiny girl, dead because of her wretched parents.

  Overwhelmed, Sima clutched Lissa tight and sobbed, unable to force the horrible image of watching Lissa drift off in brackish water from her mind. She rocked her side to side, refusing to let go, refusing to let the torrent of filth take this child away from her.

  Sloshing water approached. Austin, panting and out of breath, gasped, “What happened?”

  “Lissa’s sick,” said Juan.

  “Why’s Sima crying?” asked Austin.

  “Lissa’s sick,” said Juan.

  “I’m not dead,” whispered Lissa. “Yet.”

  Sima sobbed harder.

  28

  Flower Child

  Growling roars rang out in the jungle to the west. The powerful shriek of an Aurak followed, then squawks and snarling.

  The boys hurried to move the big green squash inside the lifeboat. Sima, still weepy over an hour later, carried Lissa inside. Austin shut the lifeboat door and pushed down on the lever until he lifted himself off his feet. Sima sat on the floor by the fabricator, balancing Lissa in her lap while printing a full portion of chicken for everyone.

  Juan attacked his food like he hadn’t eaten in a week. Austin forced himself to take reasonable-sized bites, clearly wanting to eat the whole thing as fast as possible. Lissa whimpered and refused to open her mouth when Sima poked her in the lip with a piece of chicken.

  “You need strength,” said Sima.

  “I’m too tired to chew.”

  “Well.” Sima tapped her on the nose. “You can either chew, or I’ll chew it for you and spit it in your mouth like a bird.”

  Lissa scrunched up her nose. “Eww.”

  Austin stopped eating and stared at her with a ‘you did not just say that’ expression.

  Sima winked at him. “I can’t give you new breaths, but if you eat real food, it’ll help you get stronger.”

  “Okay.” Lissa sat up and took the chicken slab, nibbling on it.

  Another feline roar happened outside, along with Aurak shrieking.

  “Is the Night Scratch eating those nice birds?” asked Lissa.

  Sima glanced at the wall in the general direction of where the sounds came from. “Maybe trying to. That cat isn’t big enough to eat them.”

  ‹The Aurak would likely not be the typical prey for that feline predator. It may indicate the animal is desperate for food, or perhaps they are fighting due to territorial aggression.›

  “Better it picks on the bird than us…” She smiled at Lissa, tickling her belly.

  The girl giggled. “I don’t want the nice birds to get hurt.”

  “I doubt that will happen. The Aurak is gonna throw the Night Scratch into the woods.”

  “Maybe the cat wanted eggs?” asked Austin.

  “Aurak eggs gotta be as big as those.” Juan pointed to the stasis pod.

  “Yeah.” Austin nodded. “Too big for cats to eat.”

  Everyone laughed.

  Sima decided not to sleep in her damp garments and hung them on a jutting bit of metal. Austin got adventurous and crawled into the stasis pod that had initially held the two smaller kids. It couldn’t trap him since Sima had pulverized the entire foot-end window panel on the right side.

  “Oh, wow,” said Austin, his voice echoing. “This is soft. I forgot what a real bed feels like. It’s kinda stuffy in here though.”

  Lissa shivered, refusing to even look at the pod. Sima stretched out on the cool, hard metal floor, one child clinging to either side. She debated how to make a sleeping mat out of the soft grass, but didn’t finish much of a mental design before dreams took her.

  Sima awoke, comforted by the presence of sunlight leaking in from the damaged roof and a breathing child lying on top of her. After waking the others, she picked up one of the squash and went outside. The axe doubled as a kitchen knife, slicing the giant vegetable into hamburger-patty sized discs. Pale whitish-green insides had texture similar to zucchini and a mild flavor reminiscent of string beans. If facial expressions meant anything, none of the kids particularly enjoyed the meal, but they all ate without protest.

  After they ate, Sima sat by the door watching the three kids run around and play in grass that reached as tall as Lissa�
�s chin in places. The girl laughed as she raced around chasing fluttering bugs, oblivious to the danger surrounding them. She stopped often to rest, stooped forward and gasping for air, but didn’t seem to give in to worry.

  After the scare from yesterday, Sima yelled, “Slow down a bit, sweetie. Don’t run so much.”

  “Okay,” called Lissa.

  It’s not fair. She clenched her jaw to stop from sliding into a deep pit of sorrow. Every time Lissa giggled, Sima cringed with guilt for telling the girl she’d be okay. I can’t break her heart. Let her be happy. She hung her head, listening to the kids play for some time. Lissa got quiet, which made her look up. The girl knelt about ten paces away, playing with the grass. Sima put a hand to her eyes to press back tears.

  What did those kids do to deserve this? She gazed up at the rich blue sky, puffy clouds, and throngs of sky mantas. This planet is so beautiful, but it’s a graveyard.

  She jumped at a tickle on her right ankle, expecting a spider. Lissa sat by her foot, braiding an anklet out of grass blades, two blue and one green. The child wore one on each of her ankles as well, as well as a decorative belt of the same strands. She looked like a little forest nymph from Ancient Legends, a Wondercube game about elves and magic that she’d played before running away from home. Sima felt like she’d been punched in the chest. She wanted to say, ‘Thank you, that’s pretty,’ but couldn’t get words past the lump in her throat. Every time she looked at Lissa, she dreaded losing her. Seeing her so innocently happy, unaware she probably wouldn’t live another two months, stabbed Sima in the heart.

  Once Lissa finished her weaving, she stood and jogged after Juan and Austin, who ran around mock sword fighting with their branches. Lissa tolerated less than five minutes of darting about before she coughed. She walked back and sat nearby, busying herself making grass bracelets. An intermittent breeze tossed her waist-long hair off her back. Sima stared at the girl’s side, watching her chest swell and shrink with each breath. She didn’t appear to have gained any weight, but at least she hadn’t lost any.