by J P Waters
Dim rose from his chair. “I saw something moving.”
Olie made a half-hearted attempt to continue shielding the jar, but Dim was quick to step past her.
“Whoa! I didn’t know you had a pet. Are you holding out on us? How’d you afford this?” He started lifting the lid off the jar.
“Careful, Dim,” Olie said, quickly snatching the cover from his hands and putting it back in place. “I don’t want him to get out.”
Instead, Dim picked up the jar and held it to his face. Gerry sloshed back and forth in a shallow pool of water as he rotated for a better look.
“What is it?”
“A starfish, I think.”
“It doesn’t look like any starfish I’ve seen. But those were mostly in kids’ books. Where’d you find it?”
“On the beach.”
“I didn’t think there were any starfish left, though.”
Olie nodded, “That’s what I’d thought, too.”
She couldn’t read Dim’s expression. He stared down at Gerry’s jar, seemingly fascinated and confused all at once. Gerry blinked up at the two.
“So… you think you’re gonna keep it?”
“I don’t know,” Olie replied. “I’d have to get a larger terrarium.”
“Not a fish tank? Seems like he needs something better suited for the water.”
“I’m not sure, Dim,” Olie said with an exasperated sigh. “I think he seems fine.”
“Well whatever you do, don’t tell anybody about it. The last thing you need is burglars learning there’s a pet in here.”
Dim set down the jar and looked to his band. A message from Marguerite was waiting for him.
“Shit, I really do need to go.”
He started working his way to the door, Olie following behind him.
“So you’re sure you’re okay?”
“Dim, I’m fine. I can take care of myself.”
“I know. Believe me, I do.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah… Yeah. I might talk to that shrink. I mean, free is free.”
“You should.”
“Well, I’ll let you know.”
“Thanks for stopping by, Dim.”
“Uh-huh. Don’t mention it. Just don’t blow me off either, okay? We gotta look out for each other.”
“I promise. Give my love to Marguerite and the kids.”
“Will do. Later, Ol.”
“Bye, Dim.”
Chapter Twelve
Once the door shut, Olie returned to Gerry’s terrarium. Dim wasn’t exactly the most gentle person, and Gerry’s environment had been shuffled out of place.
“Sorry, guy. That must have been stressful. I’ll be better about guests next time.”
To her surprise, though, there were a full two inches of standing water at the bottom of the jar. Gerry was unfurled and submerged, and a small amount of sand clumped to the side where Dim had tipped the jar for a better look.
“Where did all this water come from?”
Olie figured it was a defense mechanism to Dim’s shaking. Or maybe it was waste. Could it be saliva?
She was about to investigate further when another knock came at the door. Olie approved entry and found her neighbors, Lane and Raquel, standing in the hallway.
“Hey Olie, is everything okay?” Lane asked.
“Oh yeah. I’m fine.”
“Sorry, we saw that strange man and thought maybe it was related to the murders. Raquel was determined to check in.”
Dim was right, people did care about her.
“Aw, thanks, Raquel. No, Dim’s just a coworker. No news yet. Right now, I’m just supposed to rest.”
“I also drew something for you,” said Raquel.
“You did?”
“Yeah, on my band. I’m sending it now.” She tapped the surface of her glass. “It’s a picture of you on Mars. Mom told me you’ve been there.”
Olie looked down at her own band. The drawing had a red circle and a rudimentary stick figure image of Olie on standing on top of it. Olie guessed that based on the size, her figure was about half the size of Mars. Raquel beamed with delight, smiling and anxiously waiting for Olie’s response. The innocence of the drawing, the complete disregard for proportions, combined with Raquel’s eyes made Olie smile despite the recent events.
“Thank you so much Raquel. I love it. This makes me feel a lot better.”
“I want to go there, too.”
Olie bent down and said, “Well, you’ll have to study really hard and listen to your Mom.”
“About everything?” asked Raquel.
“Raquel,” scolded Lane.
“About everything.”
Lane put her hands on her daughter's shoulders. “How about you, Raquel? Do you feel better now that you can see Olie is okay?”
Raquel nodded, then said, “You’re okay, right, Olie?”
Olie took a breath. “I’m fine but thank you for checking on me. The drawing is great, Raquel.”
Raquel looked up at her Mom and Olie, beaming, before darting off. When she was just a couple of steps away, she began skipping and cried out, “Bye, Olie!”
Lane smiled at her daughter and then turned back to Olie, her face growing somber. “Seriously, do you need anything? Groceries?”
“No, but thank you. It really does mean a lot.”
“Well, if you need anything just let us know,” said Lane. “I used to live on the Moon, you know. Us space-farers have to stick together.”
Olie laughed. “I’ll remember that.”
“Good,” Lane replied. “There’s no need to try and bear this all alone.”
Olie stepped back inside her apartment. As much as she appreciated the attention, the mystery of Gerry’s submersion was still fresh in her mind. Pulling the cover off Gerry’s jar, she reached in and took hold of the wet animal. While still holding him, she poured the liquid out onto the kitchen counter’s SmartSurface. Drawing a circle around the liquid, Olie instructed the surface to analyze the fluid. An analysis quickly came back: the liquid was water—pure H20 except for traces of soy and broccoli.
The amount of water in there had to have come from somewhere. Was it from Gerry? Had he vomited up the water she had given him?
“Gerry? Do you not like the water I’m giving you?”
Olie looked at the creature. No. She was sure she’d only put a small bit of water in the cage for him to drink. She sat and shook her head.
Olie carried Gerry’s jar to the living room and placed it on the coffee table. Did her little sea pet produce pure water? That seemed impossible. She did a few searches on her band for answers but gave up quickly. Science wasn’t her thing, it was Jayson’s thing. Olie’s thoughts quickly returned to Jayson. He would know about the water – what it meant. There was probably some obvious scientific solution she was missing, and Jayson would know it. But first she needed to apologize—something she wasn’t particularly looking forward to.
Rather than apologize, she decided to procrastinate. She turned on the adnews and sat down. A Seattle District 04 reporter was reporting on a murder down in the islands. As the report went on, Olie felt her stomach drop. The victim on the adnews had been drained, just like the ones at SeaCrest. The network had made the connection too. Already talking heads were suggesting that the serial killer in the islands—whoever that turned out to be—might also be responsible for the deaths at the plant. From the corner of the room, Gerry made a gurgling noise in his tank. Olie rubbed her finger where Gerry’s bite was healing.
Could a Gerry-like creature have had something to do with the murders? Olie glanced down at her finger, the liquid skin having almost completely repaired the small bite wound. Plenty of animals were known for biting when provoked. Especially at mealtime. Right? Olie’s mind churned as she stared at Gerry and his small, grapefruit-sized body. She saw the images of the dead on the adnews and tried to imagine something like Gerry causing a gruesome death like that. She couldn’t imagine somethi
ng so small causing such damage. She found herself incredibly relieved after dismissing the notion that Gerry might be involved.
Chapter Thirteen
Olie hugged her motorcycle through the turns on the way to Jayson’s house. It was such a thrill to drive, and one that so few people experienced. She sped around other cars, their onboard AIs responding to her maneuvers with their own subtle redirections. She didn’t understand why people who chose to drive their own vehicles deserved to be punished. It had been legal for decades after all. Hell, it had been the norm. And it would be nearly impossible for a human driver to endanger the life of someone else in a self-driving vehicle—the onboard systems were too sophisticated to allow human error. Still, it had never stopped Jayson and her from having intense arguments about the dangers of human error when they were still together.
Olie sped up several switchbacks before leaning into Jayson’s driveway. At the bottom she saw a car she didn’t recognize—a black transport van with government tags. A dark-haired woman wearing a sleeveless onesuit exited the house, and Olie recognized her immediately.
“Olie!” said the woman, waving.
Olie moved toward her, and the two women embraced.
“How are you, Janie?” Olie asked. “It’s been so long.”
“I’m okay. Still adjusting some to the big move, but it’s nice having a change of pace. And you?”
“I’m good.”
“Jayson isn’t here—he’s just letting me borrow his place for the weekend. Was he expecting you?”
“I was just hoping to catch him. He’s not returning my calls.”
“Oh, I see.”
“It’s my fault.”
“I’m sure that’s only half true. If I know Jayson, he’s probably just pouting.”
“I dunno. I think I may have really messed up this time.”
Janie smiled, flashing a row of perfectly white teeth and put her hand gently on Olie’s shoulder.
“He’s gonna be fine. I know he cares about you. Just give him time.”
Olie nodded and looked away. Janie was a friend, but she was also Jayson’s older sister and a senator. They had become friends when Jayson and Olie were together, but now Olie felt uncomfortable talking about Jayson with her.
“How’s life in the capital?” asked Olie, hoping to change the subject.
“Ugh, exhausting. As a state we’re faring better than a lot of our neighbors, but locally things are a mess. Factory jobs are disappearing by the day. We can’t afford to focus on the macro and overlook the micro. That’s what I’m campaigning on, anyway,” Janie replied.
“Well, you’ve got my vote. Wait, can I vote for you?”
Janie smiled. “Wrong district, unfortunately, but I appreciate the support.”
“Alright, well when you run for governor you have my vote.”
“Thanks,” said Janie “Well, I’ve got to get going. Good seeing you, Olie.”
Janie slung her bag over her shoulder and walked towards the black transport van. The door opened for her, and before she entered, she paused to turn around.
“You might have to give Jayson some time, you know,” Janie offered. “He’s a brilliant botanist and a loyal soldier, but a sensitive soul. Be patient with him.”
“I’ll try.”
Janie paused, clearly not satisfied with Olie’s answer.
“All I’m trying to say is, he’s a romantic and he bruises easily. Give him a chance to heal. I think the two of you are worth it.”
Olie opened her mouth to reply, but before she could, a Seba exited Jayson’s home and walked down the pathway towards the black van. Olie wasn’t sure how she knew he was a Seba, but she knew. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a thick chest. His blonde hair sat atop a face with a square jaw and perfect symmetry.
“Ms. Belsey, you have a lunch date,” he said in a low, rumbling baritone.
“Thank you, Luca. Just think about what I said, Olie. We’ll talk again soon.”
“Yeah, sure.”
Olie stepped out of the way as the car began pulling out of the driveway. Once it was out of sight, she put her helmet back on, climbed on her bike, and pressed the throttle. She didn’t want to talk to Janie again any time soon. She wanted to talk to Jayson, but apparently, he didn’t want to talk to her. Two more reasons to leave the planet as soon as possible.
Chapter Fourteen
After returning to work on Monday, Olie went to find Dim at the end of the day. She walked along the plant’s promenade, a paved portion of the ridge overlooking the Pacific. The cool season was ending, and despite a stiff breeze Olie was beginning to sweat on the short walk.
The cold was just enough to make her wish she’d worn a temper patch. She saw Aaron riding by her on a transport and flagged him down.
“Have you seen Dim?” she called out to him.
“Not for an hour or so. He was taking care of a line issue.”
“A leak?”
“Not sure.”
Olie nodded. “Where are you off to?”
“I gotta pick up Peyton. His asthma’s acting up.”
“Oh no! Not again.”
“He’ll be alright. Just ran out of his steroid.” Aaron looked slightly agitated. He was in a hurry to get back to his son.
“Well, tell him I said I hope he feels better.”
“Will do.”
As the transport continued forward, Aaron looked back and yelled out: “I think he said it was line 3!”
Olie continued forward, passing several other coworkers on the way to building 8. At the charge station inside, Aaron’s droids were all lined up, while Dim’s were still out. Moving down line 3, she eventually caught sight of one of the droids performing a routine repair.
“Have you seen, Dim?”
“Employee Dimitri Reardon is performing a check on line 3.”
“This is line 3.”
“Affirmative.”
She checked the model number on the droid, and realized the AI was old. A continued line of questioning was going nowhere. She’d have better luck finding Dim on her own.
“Dim! Dim, are you back here?”
Olie made her way to the midpoint of the line and began climbing a set of metal rungs that led to the top. With her hands still on the top rung of the ladder, she looked toward the intake before turning to the desalination tank. A pair of legs stuck out from underneath that side of the line.
Olie took the rungs two at a time before jumping down from the ladder. She ran to the body only to find Dim – bloodied and unconscious. The side of his torso was torn open through his uniform as though he’d been cut by a serrated hunting knife. The cut ran from the bottom of his rib cage to his waist. Some of his intestines were torn open and falling out of the gash in his midsection. His chest slowly heaved up and down; he was alive, but barely.
“Dim! Dim, stay with me.” She pleaded.
Dim made a wheezy noise but was unable to speak.
Olie ripped off her jacket and tried to stop the bleeding as she shouted into her band for security. The killer hadn’t finished—he had to still be in the building, in the room maybe. She looked around scanning the room for signs of the killer, all the while keeping pressure on Dim’s wound. The room was empty except for a few droids going about their routines quietly.
A moment later, Olie heard splashing down at one end of the line. A stream of water sprayed down from one of the pipes into a large puddle on the floor. She couldn’t see a visible leak, and the pipe looked solid.
Looking up to spot the source of the water, she thought she heard someone running. She froze, hardly even breathing, as the sound moved past her. She crouched down over Dim, keeping her folded jacket on the wound. Her eyes darted, trying to catch a glimpse without being heard or seen. Eventually the sound was gone, and she turned her attention back to Dim. She placed her band against his neck and took a reading, but his pulse was nowhere to be found.
“Dim? Dim!”
She put her hand
on what was left of his chest, but it didn’t move. He had stopped breathing.
“Dim!”
Olie heard sirens in the distance and knew that security was coming. She briefly thought about waiting for them before deciding to find out for herself. She shakily rose to her feet and started moving towards a ladder that led up to the pipes. She had to stay focused. Dim was dead, and the killer might still be here. She had to find him. Olie climbed the ladder with her eyes fixed upward in case someone appeared. By the time she’d made it to the top, security bots were entering the building.
From the top of the line, Olie pointed in the direction of the steps she’d heard and cried, “He went that way!”
The security droids quickly moved down each line while Olie ran across the top of her own. Once she reached the entry valve she leapt onto the bean-shaped tank and took a few strides over it before sliding down it onto the ground. Olie ran to the end of the exit lines and burst out into the sunlight next to a series of long freshwater pools that sat shimmering before her. She scanned the area but saw no one.
A burly security guard caught up to her, bending over to catch his breath.
“Did you see anything?” asked the guard, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his arm.
“No, but I heard running, or scampering, I guess. I know I heard them.”
“Did you see anything, though?”
“Nothing,” said Olie. “But from the sound of it, he was moving fast.”
“Shit.”
“Can’t you check the security vids?”
The security guard shook his head. “Yeah, but it’ll need to go through SeaCrest, could take hours to get access to those vids. Easier to get them now.”
“But there was a murder! My friend was murdered!”
A second security guard, much thinner than the first, approached the pair and nodded to the burly security guard.
“Ms. Manning? I’m to escort you to the main offices,”
“But, but—”
“They’re doing everything they can, and policy dictates worker evacuation. It’s what’s best for you and for the company.” The thin guard sounded like a company training vid, all policy and no heart.