“Where’d you get the reefs?”
“From a friend.” The man offered no further elaboration.
In that final answer, however, Jackson managed to pick up a well of anger and bitterness, concrete and deeply personal. “Well,” he said, “thank you for saving my life.”
“You welcome,” the man said.
“What’s your name?” Jackson asked.
“Jason,” he answered. “But my friends call me Jammie.”
• • •
Mera went to the last spot Derrick had been. She already knew what she would find. The reefs had told her the moment it happened, but she wanted to see it with her own eyes. On the dark street lay five dead bodies. A woman knelt over the sixth, who was near death. The reefs Mera sensed in his system had already failed to save him. The woman didn’t look up when Mera made herself known, so Mera went cautiously to the one person she knew.
Derrick had a bullet hole in his head, and she could see flecks of blood and brain spread on the road behind him. She took in the carnage, her strong emotions wrapped snug in the center of herself. The woman moved a little but still didn’t look up.
“I’m sorry,” Mera said to the woman, to Derrick, to herself.
“I told you to be careful with that boy,” said a voice.
Mera didn’t acknowledge Okaios with words. She just turned slightly in his direction.
“Some of your pets got away in Hull Bay,” he said, walking out from a dark alley across the street. He shrugged. “Small victories.”
Unlike the other Ynaa, Okaios still wore his human skin, the one from the last time Mera had seen him in her office.
“Did Ohoim send you?” Mera asked.
“No,” he said. “Father O didn’t send me.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Because of that one.”
Mera looked back at the man bleeding out in the street, and the woman leaning over him. Yes. It made sense that the not-dead man would interest Okaios. The reefs were ordered to kill all the men in this area.
The older woman still had not moved. Mera tracked the man’s vitals through her reefs. His breath was even shallower, his heartbeat faint and rapid. Just a few more minutes of life left in him.
“The kill reefs are meant to be frightening,” Okaios said. “And painful.” He paused, getting closer. “I didn’t want that for him. I wanted it to be quick. Peaceful.”
Mera turned completely toward Okaios, giving him her full attention. She revised her earlier conclusion.
“He ended things a while ago,” he continued. “He said I was too violent. Too dangerous.”
The woman began to sob.
“It is done, then,” Okaios said. “I supposed this was better than the alternative.”
The sadness in his voice reminded Mera of an owner who has lost his prize pet. “No,” she said. “A better alternative would have been no one dying.”
“Then how would they learn?” Okaios asked.
The sobbing stopped, and she heard the woman scream in rage. Mera turned to look at her. Too late already. Always too late.
The woman was on her feet in an instant, a gun in her right hand. She didn’t hesitate before firing. The first bullet hit Mera, bouncing off her flesh, the reefs acting quickly to protect her. She dodged the other two shots, but the woman continued firing two more at Okaios. He easily dodged the bullets and flew at the woman, picking her up by the throat in one hand.
“Put her down,” Mera pleaded.
Okaios didn’t respond to Mera, but he didn’t kill the woman, either. She dangled in his grasp, her feet swaying, trying to find the ground beneath her. She was suffocating slowly, trying to suck air through her nose.
“She is his mother,” Mera said. “She wasn’t in her right mind.”
“Not my problem.”
“Don’t do this,” Mera said, inching closer. The streets were quiet, but she could hear crying from many of the surrounding houses. She was sure Okaios heard them, too. “Please. There’s been enough death today.”
Okaios responded with an old Ynaa proverb. “And what is another body to a mountain of dead? What is a drop of water in an endless sea?” With a regretful frown, he returned to his work.
He realized his mistake only when Mera darted toward him. Reflexively he dropped the woman and pivoted to face Mera, putting up his hands in defense. Another bad decision that he didn’t know he was making. Mera touched him on the forearm—a simple, gentle tap of her first two fingers, and then leaped back, watching him.
“What are you doing?” Okaios asked.
Mera didn’t answer. He would know soon enough.
The telomerase enzyme Mera had redesigned from human to Ynaa physiology could elongate chromosomal telomeres indefinitely, but the reefs still had to manage cell growth, speeding it up or slowing it down when necessary, retiring cells that might produce cancers. The system had to be in balance for the two parts not to overwhelm each other. Mera had painstakingly achieved that balance during testing. It was also during testing that she stumbled across a use for intentional imbalance.
Okaios barely had time to turn back to the woman before he felt the heat rising under his skin as his insides began to cook. He stumbled back, wearing an expression she had never seen on an Ynaa before.
In his body, her reefs were fast at work, duplicating themselves, prodding his cells to replicate abnormally, relentlessly, thanks to the enzyme. His reefs were trying to fix the problem, exerting themselves to slow the growth of the perceived tumors spreading through his vital organs. The reefs’ efforts caused a massive uptick in the internal temperature of his body. A trillion tiny suns going nova at once. What was that emotion on his face? Fear? No. More than that.
“You …” he managed to say. He was sweating, his mouth open, eyes oceans of white against dark irises.
Mera came close.
If she could guess, Okaios was experiencing what she had felt so long ago, when she was falling from that cliff, outstretching her hand to a man she could not reach and could not save. She realized then that she had made a terrible miscalculation about the universe and herself. There was no safety; everyone was always at risk.
Okaios screamed in unbearable pain.
There was another thing Mera had experienced, too—something he couldn’t feel just yet. To feel it, he would need time. It had taken her centuries to find that feeling and learn what it was. It was a lesson deeper than that of the Ynaa. Truer.
The universe is bigger than you know. You are bigger than you know. There is no armor big enough to save you. Nowhere. Ever.
She would spare him that one.
Mera’s reefs worked on all his organs—except for one. His reefs wouldn’t know to guard that organ, thinking that the threat was everywhere else. The last mistake.
Mera punched Okaios in his face, tearing the human flesh, crushing the Ynaa bone, cutting his brain with shards of his own skull. The impact did the rest, turning his brain to mush. He made a sound so soft, it hurt Mera to hear it, and then he collapsed under his own weight, no brain function remaining to keep him upright.
When it was done, Mera stood over the body. She told her reefs to die, and they obeyed. His reefs would continue for some time, trying to repair what could not be repaired. Then they, too, would die, having nothing to feed on but death.
She had not told Ohoim that her research could be used this way, but he would know soon enough, when he learned that his son was dead. And he would know who had done it. She was now the Ynaa’s greatest enemy in the known universe.
Mera went over to Derrick’s body. There was no hiding it now. The tight knot inside her had unwound, tears falling hot on her cheeks.
She leaned down to pick up the body.
The woman watched her do this. And just as before, without warning, she lunged at Mera.
&nb
sp; “You won’t take my boys!” she said. “You devil! You demon!”
She was hitting Mera over and over with her fists. They weren’t weak blows; they would have hurt a normal person. But they had no effect on Mera. She ignored the woman and remained leaning, touching Derrick’s stiff body. Even with all her defenses, he had gotten in, changed her. And she had destroyed him.
The woman wrapped her hands around Mera’s neck. Mera turned to her. They both had tears in their eyes.
Mera sent her reefs from her neck through the woman’s hands and straight to the woman’s brain. “Sleep,” Mera ordered. The woman stumbled back as if drunk. She crumpled to her knees and fell over to one side. She tried to speak, but sleep took her quickly.
Mera moved the woman to her stoop and then returned to Derrick. She carried him to the SUV and sat him in the passenger seat, bending his limbs and leaning his head against the window. She had to hurry now and get to her ship.
The last time they were together, she had kissed Derrick—a soft, lingering touch of lips. She caressed his face. She’d had a bad feeling at the time but wasn’t close enough to herself to know it.
As she drove to the docks, she kept glancing over at him. He looked as if he were sleeping. She half expected him to yawn and stretch and ask her how long it would take to get there.
“Just a little longer,” she would say. She would call her ship from the ocean floor, and then it wouldn’t take long to reach orbit, and then they would go to Ganymede as she promised.
“And then what?” he would ask.
She hadn’t gotten that far. Other solar systems? Other galaxies? They would have all the time in the universe … if he had survived.
A thought occurred to her then.
Over her long life, Mera had learned that although the universe fought against the divulging of its secrets, it didn’t stop one from using them once they were known. Cleverness was rewarded. Knowledge, once found, could be implemented.
In the corner of her eye, Derrick turned to her. But when she glanced his way, she saw that his head had simply shifted. His head wound was dark and gaping.
“If I could do it, would you want me to?” she asked the corpse.
She imagined him saying yes.
Yn Altaa
Aubrey sat on the porch in the morning cool, the sun just rising on the horizon. Sometimes when she couldn’t sleep, she would come out in the morning like this, watching the dark sky bleed into orange and blue. She didn’t have to be at work until nine, so she had the mornings mostly to herself.
She heard Alice in the kitchen, probably making breakfast. She listened as the cabinets opened and closed, and then it was quiet for a long time until the kettle screamed and Alice tramped to the kitchen, her footsteps echoing like some giant’s.
Aubrey listened absently to the whole drama. Eventually, Alice would come out and sit on her lap, kiss her, and coax her back into the house. But for now, she wanted to be outside, letting her thoughts roam while she listened to the birds wake and the crickets rub the teeth of their wings together.
Something rustled in the bush, drawing Aubrey’s attention. She looked down from their porch on the second floor to see a black cat come out from the hibiscus into the backyard. She knew the cat well, had even named her. It was Aubrey’s job to take in strays at the shelter, but the shelter was always full and she didn’t want to risk having to put the cat down if they didn’t have space. Besides, this one would be hard to catch. Jezza was suspicious by nature and stealthy, revealing herself only for brief moments.
Jezza mewed and waited in the yard. Two other cats came out of the bush. One was black with white paws, the other a spiral of black and brown. Both were smaller than Jezza—kittens fast approaching their “teens.” Aubrey watched them convene in the yard as if they were holding some secret conclave.
A rooster appeared on the other side of the yard, its feathers a vibrant blend of red and green against dark brown. Aubrey didn’t have much time to marvel at the feline communion in her backyard before the rooster caught Jezza’s attention and she gave chase. The magnificent bird screeched, spreading its wings. It leaped into the air, landing on a branch of a nearby tree. Jezza circled the tree. A few minutes later, she gave up, returning to her kittens, who had seemed uninterested in the bird. All three sauntered back into the bush. The rooster belted out its morning declaration before exiting the stage the way he had come on.
All this happened in a matter of moments, as if Aubrey weren’t even there to witness it. A small world separate from hers, with its own concerns. For a time, she considered what giants inhabited the reaches above, staring down at her. A chill swept through her at the thought of another alien ship from some other distant world breaking through the clouds overhead. Her ears buzzed with the drone of spectral engines, and she had to search the sky to make sure nothing was there. The hues of night had pulled back, orange and blue now dominating the morning. The harbor glittered like shards of sapphire. She calmed at the sight.
As expected, Alice stepped out onto the porch and sat on Aubrey’s lap. “Morning, love,” Alice said, kissing her on the lips. “Want to come inside?”
“Not just yet.” Aubrey played in Alice’s frizzy hair. She liked getting her fingers stuck in that nest of lovely curls. Alice smiled appreciatively.
“Lee will be up soon,” Alice said. “I’m going to make her breakfast.”
“Let her eat cereal.”
“No.” Wrapped up in the tacit rebuke was a longer answer. Lee appreciated the breakfasts; she talked more when she had eggs and butter bread in her mouth than when there was only a box of Cheerios waiting for her. Today was going to be tough. She would need the breakfast.
“You right,” Aubrey said. She had forgotten herself again. She felt awful about the little bit of resentment she felt toward the girl. Before Patrice came back home, she had gotten used to having the house, and Alice, all to herself. Now she had to share her life again. This wasn’t a bad thing. More good than bad came out of it. Still, she had enjoyed her space.
Alice kissed her again, this time on the forehead. She got off her lap, which Aubrey’s knees appreciated. They both were small women, but Alice was a little bigger and Aubrey was getting older.
“See you in a bit,” Alice said, stomping back into the house.
When the sun finally climbed all the way out from behind the hills, and the morning cool gave way to heat, Aubrey decided to go inside.
Lee sat at the table in her school uniform, her short cotton tie hanging loose from her neck like two navy-blue tongues. She was eating eggs. A half-eaten piece of buttered bread rested on her plate. She looked up as Aubrey walked in, acknowledged her presence, and returned to her food.
“You gon’ be here when I come home?” Aubrey asked, sitting beside Lee. “I’m making barbecue chicken and baked macaroni and cheese.”
Lee smiled. “Maybe a little later. Me and Jess are going to do a thing.”
Aubrey nodded. “A’you have fun.”
“Yeah,” Lee said, biting into her bread.
Alice glided over and set a plate in front of Aubrey. She glanced at Alice and caught an expression on her face. Alice tilted her head toward Lee, coaxing Aubrey to say what needed to be said.
Aubrey gave a quick flick of her head. Also a message: I’ll do it, but stop hovering. Alice received the message and went back to the kitchen.
“You know—” Aubrey started.
“Actually I might stay over at Jess’,” Lee said. “Since it’s Friday. That cool?”
Aubrey took a breath and then nodded. “Sure, sweetie. No problem with that. You coming back Saturday or Sunday night?”
“Sunday.”
To tell the truth, Aubrey loved the idea of having Alice to herself for the weekend. “Okay,” she said. “Be good.”
“I will.”
Alice
sat down at the table with her plate. She kept her eyes on Aubrey as she brought a forkful of scrambled eggs to her mouth. Aubrey just shook her head. Alice scowled but let the silence continue.
When Lee was done, she took her plate and mug to the kitchen and washed them. The girl was wonderful that way, leaving few remnants of her presence behind.
“You need me to drop you to school?” Alice offered.
Lee pulled out her phone and began texting. “Nah, Jess gon’ swing by for me.” Then she went back to her room to finish getting ready.
“You have to push,” Alice said after Lee was out of earshot.
“The girl fine. You got to let her deal with things her own way.”
“Sometimes, you have to intervene.”
Aubrey sighed. She picked up the remaining dishes and went to the kitchen. She cleaned the plates and poured herself another cup of tea.
“I’m going to shower,” Alice said. She was being short.
“I love you.” Aubrey smiled and gave her an air kiss.
Alice glared at her, but her mouth was twitching into a smile. “Take care of the frying pan for me?”
“Of course,” Aubrey said, though she really didn’t want to. But what could she do? The amends had begun. “I’ll try again after the weekend,” she added.
“Yeah,” Alice said. “I’ll believe it when I see it.” She disappeared down the hall.
Aubrey nursed her cup of tea and then started to work on the frying pan.
The past several months had been easier on her than on most. Her father had died years ago. Her younger brother had been living in Atlanta for several years. She had an uncle who was killed, but he was elderly and she didn’t have a deep relationship with him. Alice was an expat, so she had no family on island.
But Aubrey had not gone untouched by the disaster. She had friends who had died—people she knew from back in high school. Her three other coworkers besides Alice had been men. It all felt unreal, as if they all had gone on a trip somewhere and never returned. And then there was her cousin, Mike. He had called her a few days before to tell her how much he disapproved of her and Alice’s relationship.
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