by Kelli Kimble
Searching
Book Six of the Repatriate Protocol Series
By Kelli Kimble
Copyright © 2019 by Kelli Kimble
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Cover design by Victoria Cooper of Victoria CooperArt
Editing by Abigail Stefaniak of AbbeyEdits
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For Bill, Brian, & Lydia
Books in the Repatriate Protocol series by Kelli Kimble:
Repatriate Protocol (Book One)
Expatriates (Book Two)
Volunteers (Book Three)
Choosing (Book Four)
Purging (Book Five)
Chapter 1
I stretched my leg to its limit, my toes spreading out and touching the lower corner of the tank. The tank was hastily built, and space for the growth of the occupant hadn’t been a priority. I longed to raise my hands above my head and stand up, and today was going to be the day to do it.
The lights were still off, so I had time to contemplate my tank with some sentimentality before leaving it—though really, I didn’t think I would miss it at all. I wanted to stand and walk, to sit in a chair, to be anything but buoyant. I wanted to be like Fiona. I envied her free movement through the world, and I couldn’t wait to get out there, too.
I felt the footsteps of someone approaching the room. It felt like Fiona’s steps, though I couldn’t be sure. Some of my siblings were already out of the tanks and moving around, so it could have been one of them.
There was a plinking sound, and the lights came on, turning the cloudy liquid in my tank opaque. I couldn’t see who approached the tank until I pressed my face to the glass.
“Good morning, Silver,” said Fiona. I’m glad to see you’re already awake.”
I smiled and pushed my fingertips to the glass. She touched each one—a ritual meant to give me comfort. It worked; the bubbles in my stomach settled, if only for a moment.
“I know you’re excited. Today’s a big day,” she said. “But, I’ve got to get the preparations done first. You just hang out and relax, okay?”
I nodded and retreated from the glass, trying to increase my patience by blocking out view of her. I felt a variety of vibrations as she moved through the room. I knew she’d be getting a wheelchair ready to wheel me to my new quarters, and setting up an aqualung so that I could learn to be outside the tank in two steps, rather than one giant leap. The lack of buoyancy would be a huge adjustment—let alone breathing air as if it wouldn’t kill me.
There was a clatter above me as Fiona removed the lid of my tank. Her hand settled through the murk of the fluid, searching for mine. I reached for it and squeezed it.
“I’m going to start removing fluid,” she said. “Drop on down to the bottom.” A grey blob of fabric plopped into the tank, and I caught it as it floated down. It was a weighted vest, meant to help me move to the bottom of the tank without having to hold onto the handles in the corners. I put the vest on and felt the pleasant pull of it until my buttocks were flattened against the bottom.
A mechanical whirring began, and I knew fluid was pumping from the tank. I couldn’t see the fluid dropping, but I could feel a slight decrease in the pressure against my skin as it was removed. For a moment, I had the sensation that I would fly apart, that nothing would hold me together without the fluid. I struggled against the bottom, reaching for the handle and pulling my upper body down towards it.
Fiona tapped on the tank wall. “Remember your programming,” she said. “Coming out of the tank won’t hurt.”
I forced myself to relax my hands and release the handle. I didn’t float up, but with my lower half already on the floor, I didn’t descend, either. I gulped in the liquid around me, fighting to calm myself. Fiona was pushing her fingertips against the glass near me. I couldn’t see her hand, so much as the shadow that it cast through the murk of the liquid. She was waiting for me to tap back, to repeat the comforting ritual. Just seeing the shadow cast a moment of peace over me. This was what I wanted: To get out of the tank. All I had to do was follow her instructions.
There was a sloshing as she lowered the aqualung. It filled with fluid and sank to rest on the bottom, next to me.
“Put it on,” Fiona said.
It had a series of straps that would hold the mask to my face. I put the mask over my mouth—careful to keeps my lips closed—and maneuvered the straps around the back of my head. They crossed over each other to hold it on.
There was a bulb-shaped protrusion on the mask, and when I took in a breath, it began to slowly turn. I’d practiced putting the aqualung on, and I didn’t like it. I clenched my teeth, resisting the probe.
“Silver, you can do this.” She tapped the glass twice, sharply.
I took in a deep breath through my nose and opened my lips. The mouthpiece pushed against my teeth, and I relented, opening my jaw. The mouthpiece separated into two pieces, one on each side of my mouth. Each piece nestled into my cheeks, holding the mask firmly to my face, as the probe was deployed through the center, over my tongue and down my throat.
My gag reflex was difficult to control against the motion of the device. I knew it wasn’t going to choke me, and I needed only to relax so that it could move into the proper position. But, I was sure I was about to contaminate the tank with my stomach acids.
“Breathe through your nose,” commanded Fiona. “The reflex will stop if you breathe through your nose.”
I grabbed the corner handle again and strained to get my body to do what I wanted. I imagined that I had food in my mouth, and that I was chewing it. I needed to breathe in through my nose so that I could politely chew my food.
This would have been a whole lot easier to imagine if I’d ever had a mouthful of food to chew.
“Great job, Silver. You’ve almost got it in position. Just a few more breaths through your nose, and you should have it.”
I managed a few more quick sniffs through my nose, and the probe settled where it was meant to be. Except for where it rubbed against my tongue, I would soon not notice it at all.
I moved my hand to the side of the tank and gave her a thumbs-up, even though I knew that Fiona could already tell from her instrument readings that everything was good.
“Second phase is about to start,” she said.
In the second phase, the grated part of the tank floor would rise up, lifting me up and out of the fluid. I was not afraid of this phase, but Fiona said it had been difficult for some of my siblings. As the floor jolted into action, a wave of nerves clenched my stomach.
I looked up. The bottom side of the surface was shimmering and shiny. It was my fascination with this shimmer that had earned me my name. I touched my finger to it, spoiling the effect, as the motion of the floor pushed my hand up and through the surface.
I’d lifted a hand out of the water before. No big deal. I knew it would feel cool, and what Fiona called “wet”. But, I was unprepared for the sensation to cover my whole body. The floor stopped its motion, locking into place at the top of the tank. I was totally out of the fluid, and my whole body was covered in tiny bumps.
Fiona was stan
ding on a platform next to the tank. She’d explained how she would help me move over to the other platform and down to the ground so that she could dry me off and get me into a wheelchair. But, I started rolling back and forth. The bumps felt like agony, and I couldn’t stand it. The room was filling with a terrible sound, and I didn’t like that, either.
“Shh, shh. It’s okay, Silver. You’re going to be just fine.” Fiona was beside me, patting me with a cloth. Fluid was dripping loudly into the tank, and that sound was just overwhelming. “Silver. Silver.” She shook me a bit, squeezing my upper arms.
The aqualung bulb bounced around, causing weird pressure on my tongue. That’s when I realized that the sound was coming from me. I sucked in a deep breath. The aqualung was feeding tank-liquid into my lungs, but the air was starting to chill it. I’d always breathed liquid at the perfect temperature; I’d never been hot or cold, because I’d never been outside the tank.
“I know,” Fiona said. “It’s a lot to take in. If we can just get down to the floor, I’ll help you dry off and get something warm on you. You’ll feel a lot better then. Trust me.”
Fiona was not born from the tanks, and so didn’t really understand what I was feeling. She’d been in the tanks, sure. But, she never had to live in them. I had no choice but to trust her, though. So, I nodded and tried to cooperate, as she rolled me on my side, towards the platform.
“There we go. Just a bit more,” she said.
The grate was hard, and it was tearing at my flesh. The wrinkles that were always present on my skin felt unpleasant going over a hard surface. It must have shown on my face that I didn’t like it.
“When your skin dries out, it won’t be like this,” she said. “It will be smooth, like mine.”
She gave one final shove, and I flopped onto my back on the platform. I’d never seen her through the air, only through the blurring effect of the liquid. I reached out to touch her face, but she didn’t understand my gesture.
“All right, all right. I know my face is wrinkled. I’m old. But, yours will be smooth soon. The way mine used to be, when I was young like you.”
I shook my head and tried to smile, to convey my appreciation for her care with my eyes. But, the aqualung was distorting my mouth.
“Just hold still.” She turned and pressed a button, and the platform slowly lowered to a few feet above the floor. She sat down on the platform and carefully found her footing before standing up. The wheelchair was ready, and she moved it next to the platform, with the seat facing me, and the arm of the chair against the platform. She wiped the liquid off me with a rough towel. “I need you to sit up. You’re going to put your legs over the side, like I did. Then, you’re just going to twist a bit, and we’ll slide you right into the chair. Got it?”
I nodded and moved into the position she’d taken. My legs lowered to the floor, and I felt the sensation of the floor beneath my feet. I wasn’t sure that I liked it.
“Easy. On the count of three: One, two, three.”
I slid towards the chair, like she’d said. My body was repelled by the seat’s surface, though, as it felt like cold knives, jabbing me in the buttocks. But, she still managed to get me seated.
“Sorry. I should have put a blanket on the seat.” Satisfied that I was in the chair, she turned and produced a heavy blanket. She tucked it around me, up over my shoulders and around my legs and feet. It felt wonderful. I burrowed into it. “There, now. That’s better; I can tell. Let’s get you to your room so that you can start your recovery.”
As she was wheeling me from the room, I looked around at the other tanks. There were four still occupied in this room alone, and I knew from my programming that there were multiple rooms throughout the colony containing tanks. They could feel us moving around, even if they weren’t near the glass. But, as I rolled by each tank, a hand emerged from the murky liquid and pressed against the side. I imagined it was encouragement, but it could also have been longing.
Fiona wheeled me down a long hallway, and she began naming things as we passed them. It was kind of her to show me around, but at the moment, I was not well-equipped to learn anything from her diatribe.
It didn’t take long to reach our destination—the therapy room. When she wheeled me in, the heads of four others immediately turned to the door to look at me.
Fiona cleared her throat. “Everyone, I’d like to introduce you to Silver. Silver, these are your brothers and sisters, who have recently come out of the tanks. Here’s Leif, Opal, Paisley, and Wren.”
She wheeled me to each of them—except for Leif, who was able to walk with a walker. He shuffled over to Wren and waited patiently, as I grasped hands with each of the others in turn. They were each in bed—though Opal was sitting up, with her legs hanging over the side. Leif pushed my hand away when I reached for him. Instead, he leaned down and put his arms around me in an embrace.
“Welcome home, brother,” he said. His voice was soft and whispery.
My eyes widened, and Fiona laughed. “Leif has been out of the tanks longer than these other three,” she said. “He is starting to use his voice, and he can get around with the help of his walker. In fact, today is his last day in the therapy room. You’ll be taking his spot.”
“Soon, you’ll be doing this, too,” he said, tapping his walker.
I nodded and glanced around the room. There were four narrow beds down one side of the room—all occupied, except one. The empty bed had blankets folded over it neatly. On the other side of the room were various instruments, which I guessed were part of the therapy routine.
“Who do we have here?” said a voice from the doorway. I craned my neck to turn and see who it was—though everyone but Fiona was a stranger to me.
“Ah, Tennie. I’ve taken Silver here from the tank this morning,” said Fiona.
Tennie was the first one taken from the tanks, about three months ago. She strode over to me, confident and strong. She eyed me up and down, then stuck out her hand. “Welcome to the colony,” she said.
I shook her hand and nodded. Because of the rapid aging in the tank, I knew that she was probably five or so years my junior. But, she looked vital and healthy—the way people looked in the programming all the tankers were subjected to. I wondered about my own appearance.
Fiona snapped me out of my reverie. “I’m going to get Silver settled here in his bed. Tennie, can you help me?”
“That’s why I’m here,” she said.
Fiona pushed the wheelchair next to the empty bed. Tennie moved the blankets, then moved the guardrail on the bed down. “Here’s what we’re going to do,” Tennie said. “You’re going to put your arms around my neck, and I’ll put my arms under your arms. We’ll stand you up on your feet, but don’t worry. I’ll support most of your weight. Fiona will move the chair away; the two of us will pivot so that I am facing the bed, and your backside is against the bed. Then, we’ll lean you backwards onto the bed and lift your legs up and in. Got it?”
I nodded, though my head spun. It sounded complicated, and I didn’t want to fall on the floor.
She pulled the blanket from me, then removed the weighted vest. “We don’t need extra weight now, believe me,” she said. She tossed it aside, then put her hands in my armpits. “Ready?”
She didn’t wait for me to respond. She lifted, and I immediately put my arms around her neck. Her hair brushed against my forearms, and it was insanely soft. The sensation flooded me with emotion. I leaned against her, allowing her to take my weight, as I tried to keep the aqualung bulb from jabbing her in the face. I settled my chin on her shoulder, and just as she’d explained, she pivoted and deposited my buttocks onto the bed’s surface.
Reluctantly, I removed my arms. I wanted to run my hands through her hair; it felt so wonderful. But, she didn’t give me the chance. All business, she tipped my upper body to the side and back so that I fell against the upper part of the bed. Then, she lifted my legs and plopped them onto the lower part of the bed.
Fi
ona immediately swooped over me, pulling a blanket up over my naked form and tucking it gently around me. The blanket was soft but felt different from Tennie’s hair. Without knowing I was doing it, I began stroking the surface of the blanket.
“It feels good, right?” said Tennie. “Just wait until you touch something that’s rough, or metal. The tank masked so much from our senses.”
“Let’s let Silver get some sleep. He needs to rest so that we can get him dressed and ready to remove the aqualung,” said Fiona.
Tennie backed away from the bed, though she looked like she could talk all day.
Fiona moved the guardrail back up. “With these in place, there is no danger you’ll fall out. So, relax and get some sleep. This afternoon, I’ll be by with some clothes, and we’ll get your hair all cleaned up. Sound good?”
It didn’t sound good. I wanted to jump headlong into cleaning up and getting the uncomfortable aqualung off my face. I wanted to know what it would feel like to wear dry clothes that covered me completely. But, I could also feel the rush of energy that had propelled me through the birth process coming to a close. She was right; I needed to rest. I nodded, and she retreated from the bed. She pulled some curtains away from the wall and drew them around my bed like a cocoon, then turned off the light on the small table beside my bed.
“I’ll be back this afternoon, and we’ll get started. I’m proud of you, Silver. Coming out of the tank isn’t easy. You did great.”
I smiled behind the aqualung, but she probably couldn’t see. She went outside the curtain, and I heard her speaking to the others, but I couldn’t focus long enough to hear what she said. I was already drifting off to my first sleep on dry land.
◆◆◆
I woke up with a start. I jerked, feeling as though I had fallen from a great height and come to a sudden stop.
“Hey, how are you feeling?” whispered someone next to the bed.
I turned to see Leif, sitting in my wheelchair with a pile of clothes folded neatly on his lap. “Fiona thought you might be more comfortable if I helped you dress instead of her. I’ve tried explaining that we have no sense of modesty or body shame or whatever it is that makes her think she shouldn’t see us naked. But, it doesn’t matter. She still thinks you’ll be more comfortable this way.”