by J. S. Fields
He’s out! she yelled. Someone give me some help!
Kallik grabbed Arik’s hand, and the two waddled their way to Ukie. Arik managed to get one leg out and propped against the outer wall, bracing himself against the torrent of water. With Kallik’s help, they got Ukie out and then Kisak.
You next! Kallik said, and Arik caught the worry in her tone. He wrapped his other leg around the wall edge and let Kallik push him the rest of the way into the ocean.
Arik heard a hiss against his ear as his suit compensated for external pressure and the internal heater moved into a higher gear. He pushed against the current, unable to see any of the other flares. The suits had limited oxygen—another safety precaution, no doubt, to keep escapes like this from happening. The extra tanks in the med unit didn’t even connect to the suits. If any of them were going to make it to the surface alive, the water would have to breach their wood barrier soon. Hopefully not, however, before Kallik made it out.
Arik checked the elevation meter on his suit. He was moving closer to the surface at least, and in the direction of the land opening, although his frantic clawing didn’t seem to be getting him anywhere. Getting distance from the station was the most important thing now, no matter whether he went up or down. Arik really didn’t want to end up with a blasted helmet or brain hemorrhage if he was too close when the shock wave hit.
Anyone around? Arik sent, hoping for an answer. He was getting tired and was deeply regretting passing on swimming lessons as a first don. He’d never liked the idea. His mother had tried to get him in the water multiple times in his youth. Maybe she’d seen something in his future that he hadn’t, because there was no clear reason for a plantation family’s son to know how to swim.
The first wave hit him unexpectedly. The momentum came from below and shot Arik straight up. A loud screeching sound started in his suit, and Arik fervently hoped it would hold together. He felt lightheaded and nauseous as fish flashed past his field of vision. Colors from the internal indicators blurred together as the suit tried to compensate for the changing conditions. He was hot and then cold. His chest felt compressed, and he gasped for breath. Something pinged in his suit, and the internal monitors died. Then, as suddenly as it began, the force began to taper off. Arik slowed and then stopped altogether. He had one short moment to realize he had no idea where he was before the next wave hit. This time he was prepared and braced himself, closing his eyes so he wouldn’t get quite so motion sick. By the time the third wave slackened, Arik could see light above and the edges of a landmass.
Arik covered the remaining distance at a feeble speed. He was exhausted, but the increasing sunlight kept him persistent. If there was light, then he’d managed to stay in the vicinity of the underground lab. He was near the village and, hopefully, food and rest. Whether the others had been as lucky, he didn’t want to consider.
After three more minutes of swimming, Arik’s head finally broke the surface of the water. He removed his helmet and took a long breath, drops of seawater creeping past his lips. It was very early morning, the sun just coming up over the horizon. Arik could see the village of Thannon in the distance, as well as scattered fishing boats, but all were well close to shore. The air smelled of algae and fish. Treading water as best he could in the bobbing current, Arik spun in a circle, trying to see if he could spot any of the other flares.
Hello? he called out when no other dark patches were readily apparent. Andal waved in the breeze from the shore and several tethered ships rocked on the waves. Energized from the sight, he gathered the remains of the energy he’d taken from the station and used it to amplify his reach, sending his thoughts as widely as he could and hoping that only the flares would be actively listening.
Anyone there? he yelled into the blankness. Hello?
He waited ten heartbeats and then began to count backwards from one hundred. When he reached fifty-seven, he finally caught the faintest response. Eagerly, Arik focused his energy on that connection, thickening it until the other’s consciousness butted right up against his own.
Hello? a tentative voice responded, speaking in a language he recognized from his early schooling. Who is this? The voice was confused, and Arik could feel the apprehension coming from the other end.
He backed off quickly and tried to switch into…what was it? Common? The language of the backwater Charted Systems? He’d been decent at it long ago, but he’d not had a lesson in years. Apologies. I…hope find…my friends. The words sounded strained, even to him. He was about to terminate the connection and try again for the other flares when the other side reinforced it, bringing them back together.
Are you Ardulan?
Now that was a strange question. Curious, Arik followed the connection to the outermost thoughts of his new acquaintance. A jumble of emotions and images greeted him. She—and he was certain they were a she—was on a Keft ship, looking out the main screen at the inside of a docking bay. She was nervous, more than anything, but there was something else, too. Something was familiar about her.
Arik sank a little deeper, ignoring propriety, and tried to dig for more clues and a bit more of the language as well. He accessed her language center easily enough and then spun through internal images of the ship and another female in a black flight suit before he lost the ability to breathe.
Gasping and confused, Arik kicked at the water, hoping to scare off whatever had knocked his wind away.
You weren’t invited in, the voice chastised him. Do it again and you won’t recover as easily.
Arik shivered even though the sun was blaring down on him. The connection was powerful—like interfacing with a computer for the first time. He considered that for a moment as he returned to a respectful distance from the woman’s mind.
Are you Ardulan? he asked finally.
The woman hesitated, her mind suddenly whirling in confused images. He caught one—of a bare arm covered in Talent markings—and suddenly realized exactly to whom he was speaking. He sent back an image of himself, highlighting the markings on his own skin, and then those of the other flares. He detailed the differences they’d noticed in the hall and laced the image with the feel of snapping cellulose, which he hoped she would relate to. Finally, he attempted words again. Hello, cousin. My name is Arik, and I’m glad to meet you.
Instead of a response, a string of profanities ripped through Arik’s head, shattering the link to the off-worlder. Kisak? Arik called out, delighted to hear the older flare’s voice. A strong hand gripped Arik’s shoulder, and the hiss of a helmet release filled Arik’s ears.
That was the absolute worst experience of my life, Kisak grumbled as zie gulped for air. I must have rotated after the first wave hit, because the second one slammed me right in the hip and I rode it up laterally. I am certain I was hit in the face with a fish.
I told you it would work! Tik’s triumphant voice seemed strained to Arik, and it wasn’t until he spotted the pair of hands waving above the water’s surface a far distance away that he understood why. I’ll swim to you, Tik sent. Ukie is just beneath me. Stay put.
What’s wrong with you? Kisak asked Arik as Ukie’s helmet finally broke through the surface.
Arik shook his head. Sorry, I didn’t see you swim up. I just connected with the off-world flare. She’s still alive, mercifully. I’ll try to get her again, once we are on land.
Tik and Ukie reached them a moment later, their strokes sluggish. Even before they took off their helmets, Arik caught Ukie’s leaking emotion. He scanned the area, and when Kallik was nowhere to be seen, drew an uncomfortable conclusion.
Kallik is dead, Ukie returned. Tendrils of emotion seeped from her mind, lapping at his consciousness. Images of a shattered helmet, a bare head buffeted by the explosive forces, sailed across his vision. Her suit was faulty. It was the second blast that did it. She was with me for the first. I… Ukie’s thoughts jumbled, images overlapping. I don’t know where her body ended up. I couldn’t find it. She’s just under there. Trapped unde
r the land. Alone.
In between the lapping of the water, Arik thought he heard sobbing but kept his eyes on the horizon. No one said anything, but Arik surmised their minds were all on the same images. Kallik’s body. The bodies of the other flares in the common room. The limp, hopelessness of the situation. The worth of their lives.
You okay to swim, Kisak? Ukie asked finally. Her eyes moved from where she’d come through the landmass to the gatoi’s labored treading.
Yeah, I can make it. We’re not far out.
We need a plan for what to do when we get there, Tik said. The group began to swim in long, languid strokes, Kallik heavy on their minds. Arik was tired and his muscles ached, but the land couldn’t have been more than five kilometers away.
Does anyone know what this town is called? Arik asked.
What we just blew up was Research Station K47, Ukie responded. She was breathing heavily—more so even than Kisak. Arik splashed some water towards Tik, who paused to allow Ukie to catch up. We’re just off Cape Xallus—and ahead is the fishing village of Thannon, which is approximately fifty kilometers from the capital city.
Arik spat seawater from his mouth. I think we have to give up the illusion that we could get to shore unnoticed. Fishing boats are already out for the day, and the sun reflects pretty strongly off our helmets and suits. Chances are someone has already spotted us.
Tik nodded and resumed swimming, this time at a slower pace. I agree. I think the question is whether or not the residents of Xallus know about the station. If they do, we’re going to be apprehended the moment we hit land.
Ukie paused again to catch her breath. Even if they don’t try to imprison us again, what are we going to do? If we want the Eld to listen to us, if we seriously want to enact change, we need that flare—the one who is not of Ardulum. They’ll listen for certain if she is with us.
I know where she is, Arik responded. She and I had a chat just now. She’s just getting off her ship and into decontamination. Likely, she’ll be in the capital by night.
Ukie was falling behind again, but this time Tik swam back and wrapped his arm around her torso, propelling them both forward with his strong kicking. We need to meet her, Tik said as they rejoined the group. If there is any chance of bringing her to our cause, we have to know.
What is our cause? Kisak demanded. We’re fugitives right now. If you idiots want freedom, then we need to get on the nearest ship and leave the Alliance. With these Eld in power, andal help us, even with our current regulatory rules, flares have no chance at equality. Zie spat into the water. We are spots. Blemishes. If we stay, we have two options—blend in or be eliminated.
Chances are the Eld have already sent a recovery team, Ukie added as she gulped air.
Kisak continued. If we’re lucky, which by very definition we are not, the Eld will be so caught up with the off-world flare that they won’t be paying attention to little problems like research stations. We probably have a few hours, maybe even a day. Kisak stopped swimming and tapped Arik’s shoulder. Here comes our chariot now. He pointed to a small double canoe heading directly for the four flares. What will it be, Arik? Escape? Or do you have some ridiculously noble aspiration of changing the cultural mores of Ardulum itself?
The canoe slowed and a large, well-muscled gatoi wrapped an arm around Ukie and pulled her from the water. Tik accepted a man’s hand up, while a woman dove into the water to aid Kisak.
Arik swam to the back of the far canoe and hoisted himself inside. A woman sitting at an oar spoke to him, but her voice was carried away in the wind. He smiled and then put his hands over his ears and pointed to the sky. The woman nodded in understanding, and Arik sat down. Once everyone was settled, the crew began to row, and the canoe glided back towards shore.
We’re going to stay, Arik told the flares resolutely. Right now, somewhere on this ridiculous planet, another flare is being born. Maybe that little one could grow up on an Ardulum where flares lead, where our Talents are put to use. Maybe that little one doesn’t ever have to know what we went through.
Arik felt Kisak’s irritation, but Tik and Ukie were listening carefully. I think we need to meet with the off-world woman—hear her story, tell her ours. Then, as a united force, we should have a long conversation with the Eld. Let them see who we are, what we are capable of.
I suppose there is enough andal in that palace to fry each one of them to a crisp if we really need to drive a point home, Kisak returned.
A solid reminder of why you shouldn’t anger people stronger than yourself, Tik added smugly. There might even need to be a permanent change in leadership. If you think about it, who is best situated to lead—those who possess two Talents, or those who possess them all?
Arik moved his arm out in an effort to highlight his markings, but then realized that his wet suit covered his body completely. With the bright sun overhead and the wet hair clinging to their faces, he suddenly realized why the canoers had not reacted to their appearance.
I am in complete agreement, Arik said. Let me send an invitation to our cousin and see how soon she can join us.
Chapter 20: Port 17, Ardulum
The Neek wormhole has collapsed! We are currently investigating the circumstances, but our sentry ships have been unable to enter since early this morning. We will update with more information when available.
—Encrypted communication from a Risalian sentry skiff to the Markin Council, December 19th, 2060 CE
ARDULUM SMELLED…WET. Tropical. There was a buzzing—and rustling, too—that seemed to tickle the back of Atalant’s mind as she took the final step off the Lucidity’s boarding ramp and stood, feet together, on a planet that shouldn’t have existed.
Emn came down the ramp next and stopped at Atalant’s right, followed by Nicholas. Atalant couldn’t begin to imagine what this meant for the younger woman. Curious, she brushed Emn’s mind and was mechanically rebuffed, as if Emn was concentrating too hard on something else to notice. That was fair, Atalant supposed. She didn’t press the connection. It was hard not to be overwhelmed.
“This is really strange,” Atalant said into the empty hangar. There was a door in the far wall, open, but no one had yet come to meet them. It was possible they had flubbed entry protocol. “Any thoughts, Nicholas?”
“Because I find mythical planets all the time? This is beyond surreal.”
“What do you think the rustling noise is?”
Nicholas turned to her, confused. “What rustling? I just hear the sounds of land skiffs in the distance.”
Atalant rubbed her ears with her palms and frowned. It wasn’t getting louder, but there was definitely a sort of hushed whispering in the background. Some type of insect, perhaps? It was soft enough that she might be able to ignore it, but then again, it also might drive away what little remained of her patience.
“Emn, do you hear it?”
Emn looked around, confused. “Sorry, what?” she asked. “I wasn’t listening.”
Nicholas raised an eyebrow and a grin spread across his face. “If you’d prefer, you two could go back into the ship and I could wait for the welcome party. Finish whatever it was you were discussing before in very close quarters.”
“Funny,” Atalant responded as she felt heat rising in her cheeks. “Just because you don’t—” The rest of her retort faded when a tall Ardulan walked into the room. His thick, red hair fell in waves down his back, and he carried a rolled-up panel in his hand. Emn tensed beside Atalant as he approached, unrolled the panel, and tapped it a few times before addressing the group.
“Welcome to Ardulum,” he said, his voice flat. His eyes flicked up, passed over Atalant and Nicholas, and then fell on Emn. His jaw dropped, and he took a step back.
“Uh, what exactly…”
“I’m Ardulan,” Emn said. Atalant smiled at the firmness in Emn’s voice. At least one of them was sure.
The Ardulan broke his gaze away and scanned his panel. “I’ve seen a lot of strange shit,” he muttered as
text flew over the surface. “This— Ah!” He tapped the screen twice. “Apparently, there is a precedent. You’ve already been granted visas, and I’ll not argue with the signers.” The Ardulan snorted but did not look up again. “Before proceeding to the scanners, there are some routine questions we need to ask. First—” The illuminated text scrolled down as the Ardulan flicked a finger, the text shining through the transparent panel. “Are you carrying any live cargo including but not limited to: bacteria, archaea, fungi, arthropods, mammals, or birds?”
“We have some perishable food we picked up before entering Alliance space,” Nicholas responded. “Nothing still alive.”
The Ardulan nodded. “Said food will need to remain on your ship. Please ensure you do not bring it with you through decontamination. Second, I need the ages of the human and the Neek. That information was not provided in the initial communication.”
“I’m nineteen and Atalant is…” Nicholas trailed off, hesitant.
Atalant rolled her eyes. “I’m twenty-nine,” she muttered.
“Thank you,” the Ardulan responded, tapping furiously on the panel. “Now, if you follow me, we’ll move through this door, which will scan you for any live artifacts you may still be carrying. After that, we will move to a small room where you will be asked to stand for a full minute until the xenon lamp can finish its arc. Then, you’ll receive your official papers and be free to move about Ardulum as you will for the next two days. Be sure to be on your ship and out of Ardulum’s atmosphere well before the move.”
Atalant fell in step behind the Ardulan, but let her thoughts trail back to Emn as they moved through the wood and metal hangar. We’re out of our element here, Emn. We’ll need you to warn us if something is going wrong.
Emn’s response was slow and meandering, and Atalant made a mental note to ask her what was wrong once they were clear of customs. Their surroundings—from the wood floors and walls to the markings of their guide—made Atalant feel like she was a little girl in a storybook. Emn’s reaction was likely a lot more complex.
