by Hall, Andrew
Once they’d soared up to the summit Tabitha perched the dragon down on the rocky peak, and looked around at the island from the saddle.
‘It’s like no one’s ever been here,’ she told her ship, looking out across the far side of the island. ‘But you’d probably be down there hunting them anyway, if there was anything big enough to chase.’ The dragon looked this way and that and swished its tail, ignoring her in favour of the view from the mountain. ‘Come on, let’s build a campfire,’ Tabitha suggested. ‘We can sing some cheesy songs. You’ll love it.’
Tabitha filled the peace and quiet with songs for a good part of the afternoon, sweating and straining to hack off tree branches with her strange black knife. It seemed to slice through anything without much pressure; impossibly sharp. Instantly she regretted pushing the tip of the knife against her palm, just to see if it could cut through the black skin. She dropped the knife and swore loudly, sucking at silver blood until the deep wound healed up. Grumbling, Tabitha got back to work on cutting branches. By evening she was sitting in a leafy shelter on the mountaintop, watching the sun set over the sea in a stark orange sky.
‘Thanks for your help with the old tree cutting,’ she said sarcastically, looking over at the dragon. She thought the creature would be sleeping as usual, but it wasn’t. Its white eyes were staring ahead, watching the sunset from its rocky perch. Tabitha stared at the creature, fascinated by its intelligence. That was why they’d stopped in Alaska too, under the Northern Lights. Clearly the dragon liked to see this alien world at its most beautiful, and she’d already felt that it could be happy. But she couldn’t just call it the dragon any more. It needed a name. Tabitha thought back to the beach, when she’d been trying to reach out to the creature and get it to fly. She’d been tracing the strange symbol from its cockpit into the wet sand; the one like a fallen-down seven in a lotus pattern.
‘…Seven?’ she said. The dragon looked around at her, held her gaze, and looked back to the sunset. Tabitha felt her heart leap, and walked closer. ‘Seven,’ she repeated. It looked down at her again, answering to the name. Tabitha felt a rush of joy; a sudden connection with the creature. Companionship.
‘You’re not a machine at all,’ she said, walking over to watch the juicy orange sunset beside it. ‘I think something tried to turn you into one, to make you fight. I’m sorry for what they did to you.’ She laid a hand on Seven’s side, and stroked its rough skin with her own. Seven sighed contentedly through its nose; a gigantic rush of air. Together they watched the world glow surreal as the sun sank down into the sea.
Fishbowl had stayed in the same place all day apparently, when Tabitha landed back at the beach at twilight. The strange plant creature even hovered while it slept, with its tentacles hanging limp beneath its body. With Seven on her right side and Fishbowl on her left, Tabitha lay down in the sand and felt like they were their own little tribe. She watched the peeking stars above, and remembered how good it felt to belong. She thought about her parents, and her ex. About Laika and the Ghosts. She thought about the others too, Chris and Sylvia, and how easily they’d turned against her for what she was. Freak. But here, now, she belonged. Lying beside the tumbling waves with the soft fine sand on her skin, Tabitha didn’t feel alone any more with the creatures beside her. She had nothing they wanted; no food or possessions. They could both survive without her, and there was nothing keeping them here. But they stayed close anyway, sleeping beside her. They had nothing to gain from her company but her company itself. For the first time in a long time there were no dark dreams to haunt Tabitha’s sleep. There in the company of monsters, she felt like she belonged.
43
When she woke the next day Tabitha took a while to stretch on the soft cool sand. She felt rested, recharged. Already the sun was climbing up over the sea, taking the edge off the cool salty breeze. She felt full of fresh energy, felt her hands and feet drinking in the light. Looking around her, she was lying alone. Seven burst up from the sea in the distance then, a dark shape racing up into the sky. It went diving and spinning and soaring overhead, leaving a fine briny drizzle from its wings to drift down on Tabitha’s face. She watched it loop in the air and fly away over the island, circling the forest and then flapping down onto the mountain peak. Tabitha watched it resting, and wanted to try something. When she whistled, loud and shrill, Seven turned its distant silhouette to face her. Another whistle and it came soaring back down the mountain, over the forest, and landed down on the beach in front of her.
‘Good boy!’ she said happily, stroking Seven’s huge snout. ‘Are you a boy?’ she said, looking around between its back legs. There wasn’t anything there to give it away. ‘Well, you have to be one or the other,’ she told it. ‘You’re a boy. I’ve decided.’ Before long Seven was back up in the sky again, circling the island and spinning in the air.
Tabitha found Fishbowl bobbing about by the waterfall, carefully tending to the soil.
‘Morning,’ she said brightly, wandering into the small clearing. The creature didn’t seem to notice her, drifting by with the indifference of an insect or a jellyfish. To her surprise, Tabitha looked at the soil and saw chunky alien shoots growing there already. The four red seeds planted in a row were now stubby silver stems, like sharp thimbles poking up through the dirt. Wandering around to the waterfall, she saw that the other seeds had become sturdy black tubes, twice as tall as the silver shoots. She could feel the energy of their growth there beside the water, strong and constant. Tabitha closed her eyes and lost herself in the tingly feeling that came over her; a heady mix of sunlight and birdsong painted over the rustling forest and the rushing waterfall. She jumped when the silent creature’s tentacles touched her arm; but Fishbowl was only getting around her on the way to the pool. It stuck its legs into the water, filled them up, and went about watering its crops for the morning.
By the time she returned to the pool when the sun was high, after a lazy swim with Seven in the sea, Tabitha saw Fishbowl still hard at work. Smiling mischievously, she pulled up her hooded black mask out of her collar and crept into the clearing, skirting around Fishbowl with a ninja sneak. She crept closer, until she was right behind it.
‘Boo!’ Fishbowl jumped and juddered, edging away from her in fright. ‘I’m only messing,’ Tabitha said brightly, pulling her mask down and giving Fishbowl a little nudge. ‘What’re you up to?’ Fishbowl didn’t seem to be doing much at first; just drifting about in the clearing, passing between the shade and the sunlight. But Tabitha soon saw that even this had a purpose. With a few extra jets of air to take it higher, Fishbowl sailed up among the broad leaves of the trees. Yawning, Tabitha watched Fishbowl snap off some big palm leaves that cast a shadow down on its garden. Extra sunlight streamed down on the sandy ground. Even while Fishbowl floated down and laid out the leaves on the forest floor, Tabitha saw an instant change in the four silver shoots. Now that the light poured straight down on them they began to grow visibly. Tabitha sat close by to watch. Fishbowl did everything with a gentle, ponderous pace, but it never stopped working. There were always insects to brush away from its plants, and soil moistness to keep in check. Every so often it would puff air over the seedlings through one of its tentacles; whether to breathe on them or blow away any dirt, Tabitha couldn’t be sure. It was the first time in her life that she’d paid any real attention to gardening. All it’d taken was a bizarre creature from outer space to make it interesting enough to watch.
‘Is this food you’re growing?’ she asked it, breaking the peace that had only been filled with birdsong, and the occasional gentle puff of air. Fishbowl floated on past her and touched a tentacle to the silver plants, which were growing rapidly into webbed silver mounds.
‘Well if these are for eating I hope you’re hungry, because I can’t eat anything any more,’ she said, with a hint of sadness. She’d already seen some juicy-looking fruits on her walks around the island, hanging bright and tempting from the trees. She’d convinced herself that all the frui
t was poisonous though, to make herself feel better that she couldn’t eat it. She told herself that it’d kill her in a grizzly over-the-top manner, just to keep up the lie. As soon as she caught a good bit of sunlight on her skin though, all thoughts of food flew out of her head. Nothing compared with the feel of the warm filling sun through her body; a sweet neon tingle that perked her up with a celestial taste all its own. The first silver cone-plant in the row made a quiet squelch then, and a fleshy red flower popped out of the hole in its narrow top.
‘Hey, this one’s grown a flower!’ she called to Fishbowl. The creature was busy brushing a fallen leaf away from one of the foot-high black stems by the waterfall. Suddenly it raised a tentacle in her direction and drifted over quickly, as if it had sensed the new red bloom spring into life.
‘It’s nice,’ Tabitha lied, looking at the webbed red petals. It looked like someone had layered bright red veins together into a flower shape, and stuck the flower stalk into a crooked silver vase. Fishbowl seemed excited about it though, and busied itself with cleaning and blowing its new flower. Another soft squelch, and a red bloom poked up out of the third silver cone too. Before long the other two plants had caught up, and as Fishbowl watered them the ugly dainty flowers began to spin and stop with the wind.
‘They can’t be just for decoration,’ Tabitha said to herself, crouching down to study the blooms as they twirled in the breeze. She sensed something inside the silver cones, and touched a finger to the sturdy silver stem closest to her. ‘It’s current,’ she said, surprised. ‘It’s wind power! You’ve planted a little wind farm, you clever little bugger.’ Fishbowl ignored her and went about its work. The thick black stump growing to the right of the waterfall suddenly belched out a blurping mass of dark tentacles, like a sea anemone dyed with ink. The tentacles began to drift and wave in the sunlight, as if underwater. Fishbowl seemed rushed suddenly, with all this new cleaning and watering to be done. Its alien garden was in bloom.
‘This one too,’ Tabitha told it, brushing her hand through the new black fronds on another giant anemone. ‘It’s taking in the sunlight like a solar panel, I can feel it!’ she said excitedly. ‘There’s current inside there. Fishbowl, you’re a genius! But… what’s it for?’ Fishbowl kept its secrets to itself though, and set about tending to its alien garden.
Tabitha set off for a run a little while later, making sure she had her water bottle with her for the growing heat. She wanted to finish a whole lap of the island; it wasn’t really that big from the air anyway. The jog came easy; her body felt brand new. The only tricky part to the run was working her way through the thick forest, dodging tripping roots and sudden drops hidden by the leaves. There wasn’t anything in the forest on the far side of the island, just as she’d expected. No sign of people. She’d even felt a little trepidation, before she started her run. She didn’t want to find a friendly little village on the far side of the island. She didn’t particularly want to be around people, or their curious stares. Curious stares were the best she could hope for, really. She knew what else people were capable of when they were scared of her. What Tabitha really wanted, more than anything, was to make sure she was completely alone here. She wanted to start a new life, far away from everything. Lonely and safe. She’d scoured the forest, and found nothing but bright birds up among the branches. She got bogged down in slick warm mud on her way back, knee-deep in the heart of a mangrove forest. She could have sworn that the same crab had been watching her for the entire sweltering struggle through the mud. Skittering over the surface just to mock her.
By the time she got back to her familiar stretch of beach Tabitha was tired and soaking with sweat. The afternoon heat was draining. She waved hello to Seven where he basked, and collapsed down in the turquoise shallows to cool off. She lay back on the cool wet sand, with the tide rushing in around her limbs. Her rest became a nap. By sundown she walked off stiffly towards the waterfall for a wash.
When she reached the alien garden Tabitha was shocked at how much the plants had come on. The black tentacle plants had grown from bushes into young trees, taller than her. Her otherworldly gardener was still hard at work.
‘Oh god, you look terrible,’ she told Fishbowl, as she emerged through the forest into the ferny clearing. The creature was sluggish, shaky, dragging its tentacles on the ground. It bobbed and drifted slowly as it moved, like a leaky helium balloon.
‘You’ve been working all day, why don’t you rest?’ she asked it softly, stroking a hand through its gentle tentacles. They touched at her hand, but not as quickly as they had before. It looked half dead; even its clear fishbowl head had lost its usual brightness. A cold grey thought ran through Tabitha’s mind. Maybe the plant creature had served its purpose now. Maybe that was it.
‘Are you dying, Fishbowl?’ she asked it sadly. She stepped in front of it while it worked, trying to bar the way to its row of wind-turbine flowers. ‘They’re fine,’ she told it, trying to block its floating progress gently with her hand. But its tentacles pushed back, delicately, steering its floating body around her arm.
‘Do you need another drink?’ she asked it, watching its sad body drift on low towards its flowers. ‘Can I help?’ she pushed the words up past a lump of sadness in her throat. ‘Don’t make me lock you inside Seven,’ she threatened. ‘I don’t want you to die.’ Oh god, she said to herself. I’m grieving over a balloon. Tabitha felt tears come to her eyes then, as Fishbowl gently sank down to the ground beside its flowers and stopped moving. Tabitha crouched down and took a limp tentacle in her hand, stroking it sadly. She could only stare, helpless in her grief. With a slow gentle effort Fishbowl dragged a tentacle from the ground and patted the silver cone of the first flower. Tabitha watched with teary eyes. There was a tiny arc of electricity then, a bright little light that jumped from the flower to Fishbowl’s outstretched arm. Suddenly Fishbowl rose up into the air, newly energised with the current, and floated off past her perkier than ever. Tabitha wiped her tears away, and watched the creature get back to work after its meal.
‘Oh.’
After several failed attempts to get Seven to do something other than bask, Tabitha returned to the garden at dusk. Fishbowl seemed to be winding down for the night. Three of the red flowers had disappeared; she saw the last one fold up and shrink back down inside its cone with a bung sound. The four black anemone trees still waved their fronds though, albeit slowly in the fading light. Stepping closer to the big black plants, Tabitha could make out a gentle glow coming from them. By the time the last light of the sun had faded to night, the small pool clearing was lit with a strange white glow coming from the anemones. A little later, when the sky was filled with clouds of stars and the birds had stopped singing, the pool clearing was lit like a twilight garden. A cold wintry light emanated from the giant black plants, reflecting in the water and shining against the tumbling waterfall. The light reflected in Tabitha’s eyes, enchanted as she sat by the water. Fishbowl took a drink from the rippling reflective pool and hovered over to rest by one of its black trees. It must have felt more at home beside a familiar plant.
‘Goodnight,’ Tabitha said gently, touching her fingers to Fishbowl’s resting arms. She felt them tap her hand softly in return. As she passed by the alien flowers on her way back to the beach, their electrical charge suddenly leapt out at her in thin lightning arcs. Tabitha stopped and stared at them, wondering what was going on. Looking back, Fishbowl didn’t seem concerned. Evidently this was a natural thing to happen. Feeling a tingle in her body, Tabitha watched tiny white arcs of voltage worm their way between her fingers. She felt an itchiness in her nose, like she was going to sneeze. Her mind flitted back to Sam and Jane in the lab, and what happened when she’d sneezed then.
‘Oh, crap,’ she said, and ran as fast as she could through the trees. Off in the forest she sneezed loudly, and a ball of lightning exploded from her body with a buzzing bang.
Seven blinked open his white eyes on the darkened beach, stared for a moment,
and settled back down to sleep. It was just the strange little red-haired ape thing; the one that had brought him to this wonderful place. She was flailing and cursing, batting out the flames on a few fallen trees. She was a strange creature.
Seven was already flying circles of the mountain when Tabitha woke up the next morning. She dived into the turquoise sea with her alien catsuit on, breathing compressed air from her pull-up helmet. She swam out further and down into the deep, glad of the air supply when she discovered a sprawling garden of coral down beyond a sand bank. It was like nothing she’d ever seen before; a waving colourstorm of life that almost glowed in the rippling sunlight from above. She’d never seen fish this bright; vivid shocks of colour weaving in and out of the coral. Tabitha spent a while just floating there enjoying the sight, letting all the vital colour and rippling light speak to the deepest part of her. An incandescent paintbox hymn, seeping a holy golden feeling through her body. A sea turtle appeared from the bright blue distance and glided past, and Tabitha watched in reverent stillness. It was so graceful; so real. She’d never expected to see one up close. She followed it at a distance into deeper waters, leaving the coral behind. It was so peaceful down here, with the sunlight rippling along the white sea bed. Up above the sun illuminated the surface of the water; a vast glowing portal to another world above. A shoal of fish slipped by in the blue, silver and staring. Down on the seabed clear shrimps fiddled the sand. Anemones and starfish wafted and waved in their own tiny world amongst the rocks. Life down here was oblivious to the Earth above; another dimension under rippling aquatic sunlight. Tabitha felt a rare joy rising in her; a peace she’d forgotten about. She jumped with fright when a vast dark shape cut through the water above. All the sea life around her fled in fear. Tabitha kicked and flailed and tried to swim away, until she realised what it was and felt stupid for panicking. Seven dived down into the shattered peace around her, a giant amphibian terror. Tabitha laughed into her breather mask when he swam close, looking into her eyes curiously. Seven dismissed her and swam off, a massive black monster in the bright blue. Tabitha floated in the deep and watched him go. His tail had flattened into a fin like a giant newt. Gills glowed softly on his neck in hidden recesses. She watched him with a grinning pride as he chased terrified fish playfully, spinning and swooping in the turquoise deep. Her monster.