by Aeon Authors
Across the causeway and along the bay the little car sped, streetlights flicking past one after the other. But above them all loomed the moon, the full moon, outshining them all. Mommy and Daddy never took Liam to the island when the moon was full. Mommy said Esbat wasn’t for little boys.
“Vrrm, vrrm…errrrrk!” The car’s wooden wheels squealed as it took a turn in the carpet pattern. The rug smelled dusty and bristled roughly under the heels of his hands and on his bare knees. The pattern was getting twisty here, and Liam slewed the car rapidly back and forth. Then he tipped it up on two wheels and made a little screaming noise.
He reached too far on the next curve. His hand slipped out from underneath him, and his chin struck the carpet, stiff little fibers pressing into his skin. The car turned over twice, landed on its wheels, and rolled away into the darkness under the china cabinet.
“Oh nooo!” Liam cried in a thin television voice. “We’re looost!” He crawled forward, off the carpet and onto the wooden floor. Tiny particles of sand embedded themselves in his knees and hands, but he ignored them. The china cabinet was the cliff by the beach, with the secret cave at its foot. Liam had never been there except during the day at low tide, when it teemed with tiny fish and little shells crunched underfoot. But now, at night, at a full moon high tide, the cave was awash. Liam reached way under the cabinet, feeling among the dust bunnies and lost coins for the missing car.
“Heblblblp,” Liam said, bubbling spit at the back of his throat. His fingers found the toy car and he washed it back and forth, drifting in and out with the crashing tide. “Heblblblp!” But that got boring after a while, so he floated the car to the mouth of the cave. It was dusty, and he blew on it to clean it.
The soggy car tilted back and forth, the water level falling, until it washed up on the fringe at the edge of the carpet. “Oh, Cameron,” Mommy said. “I thought we were doomed!”
That puzzled Liam for a moment, until he remembered that Cameron was Daddy’s grown-up name.
“Rrr,” went the car. “Rrr, rrr, rrr.” Daddy couldn’t make the car start. “We’re going to have to walk.”
Liam walked his fingers along the fringe at the edge of the sea. “I’m so cold, Cameron,” Mommy said. Liam’s fingers moved into the moonlight.
“Keep walking, Molly,” Daddy said.
This part of the carpet, with the red and blue swirls, reminded Liam of the other deck of cards, the one with the pretty colored pictures that moved. Daddy said Liam should never touch that deck, but he didn’t know that Liam was already better with it than Daddy was.
Liam shuffled forward on his knees, moving his fingers down to the corner of the carpet, where the moonlight didn’t reach. Liam imagined that something large and dark was following them. His fingers walked a little faster, though they couldn’t see whatever it was. Liam decided the house was at the other end of the carpet, back where the car had started.
Then Mommy turned and screamed. Liam’s fingers broke into a run.
The carpet burned Liam’s knees as he crawled forward faster and faster, his fingers stumbling along the sandy beach as they ran from the looming shadow. “Huhh, huhh,” Daddy panted. The darkness was close behind.
Six feet. Five feet. Four. Liam crawled into the patch of moonlight where he’d started, and the shadow of his head fell across his weakly struggling fingers. “Oh my God!” Mommy screamed, and Liam made his fingers run faster. Only three feet to the edge of the carpet—three feet of red and black swirls, weaving across the fingers’ path.
Now Liam was walking his whole hands, stepping each one in and out of the shadow of moonlight cast by his head and shoulders. “Huhh, huhh,” he said, but as fast as his hands could move they couldn’t escape the darkness.
Wet footsteps sounded on the porch steps, and a panicked rattle of keys at the door.
Then Liam’s knee struck against a fold of the carpet and he stumbled in his progress, his hands skidding painfully across the fibers, tangling in the fringe at the edge. The shadow of his own head grew large, obliterating the moonlight as he fell upon his hands.
Welcome to Oceanopia!
Katharine Sparrow
“I love separatist communities of all kinds, especially those of the uber-rich who live on man-made islands. Well, maybe I mean they are fascinating to me. I love squirrels. I love how they forget where they bury nuts, but are always optimistic about digging anywhere to find them. I love rollerblades, surprise parties, and happy apocalypses. Somehow all of that got squished together to form this story.”
IT WAS ANOTHER PERFECT DAY in Oceanopia. The hot weather was tempered by the oscillators, which created the right amount of breeze. The Craven pipes cooled the breeze to 68 degrees. The sun rose at 6:02 and would set at 18:02. There would be twelve hours of uninterrupted sunshine: the same as every day. Nothing ever changed on the equator. Nothing ever changed in Oceanopia. Except for Zaria: she was getting older.
Trix had planned to “Find the Perfect Birthday Present for Zaria!” from 8:00 to 9:30, but it was 9:27 and she had come up with nothing. She stared up at the sky and made slow figure eights along the path as she rollered forward, then back to Ronnie and Winton.
“Melodious and fabulous showtunes about her life! I’ll put on a long black wig and slinky sleeveless dress. You can play Isaiah, Ronnie. It’ll be kinky-rific!” Trix trilled as she skated past her two friends and raised her right leg over her head.
Ronnie looked excited. He clapped his hands and flipped his bleached-blond hair out of his face. Ronnie was always excited about everything: he was part Labrador.
Winton spoke so slowly that Trix wondered if his circuitry had gotten messed up. “Zaria will hate showtunes. It will remind her about all the other humans who are gone. We shouldn’t even have a party—it might kill her.” He sighed as though coming up from the depths of the ocean and pushing air out of his blowhole. Winton was part gray whale, and Zaria would not be surprised if he disappeared into the ocean some day soon.
“Win-ton, solemnity is never sexy!” Trix said. She did a back handspring to emphasize her point.
“Anything might kill her, the medicos say so,” he replied.
“No!” Trix said and rollered away from him. She went up the hill toward the yellow townhouses that glittered in the sun with all their broken glass.
As she crested the top of the hill, neural connections sparked and shimmered in her. They fell into place in a way she thought must be similar to a human’s imagination.
“Perfect! Sublime! Impeccable!” Trix yelled and skated back down the hill on one leg.
Ronnie stared at her with confusion and hope, Winton with contempt.
“I have the most wonderful best present for Zaria!” And that it would save Oceanopia forever was just chocolate frosting on the huge cake the cookbots were assembling for tonight’s party. “Sorry boys, but she’s going to love me the best!”
Trix spun around in circles on her rollers, faster and faster as she savored the pulses of joy that ran out from her middle and spread to her fingers and toes. No aniborg could feel any pleasure unless they served humans, and with only Zaria left, it was hard to stay happy. Trix felt her squirrel and robot parts pulse with joy compounds as she started to plan her perfect present for Zaria.
“Kismic! Majestic! Heavenly!”
Ronnie looked sad at being left out. Trix gave him a hug and spun him around, wishing she could give him pleasure like a human could.
Everything will always be perfect! Trix thought as she whirled around. I’ll give her the best present ever. A boyfriend! A brand-new perfect boyfriend! Zaria would become so happy she’d get to make a True Birthday Wish, and she’d wish away death and become just as immortal as the aniborgs. She would never die! Trix knew not to tell Winton her plan: she knew not to tell anyone. They would only make fun of her until she didn’t believe anymore, and then it wouldn’t happen. Trix zoomed away from them—there was so much to do!
“Run-through for Zaria’s birth
day tonight at 15:04, three hours before the Green-Flash-Party-Extravaganza! Everyone’s presence is mandatory!”
“You’ve already announced that three times today,” Vicki responded over the comwave with her annoyed, stupid cat voice.
“Sedulousness is always sexy! Smart girls prepare for success!” Trix replied and jumped into the air to do the splits, then twisted around and landed on her hands.
“Ta-da!” She popped back onto her feet and rollered past the flashing lights of the long-empty casino, then down the hill toward the edge of the island.
“Ocean-o-pi-a!” Trix sang. “Ocean-o-pi-a, the great man-made island where dreams come true on the ocean blue!” She held the last word out on a long note as she rollered along the smooth wide paths as fast as she could go, which was really fast. “Ocean-o-pi-a!” It was her favorite song and sometimes she even made up her own lyrics and sang them when no one else was around. “Ocean-o-pi-a, a floating island where aniborgs will do whatever you ask and will perform any task!”
Which reminded her she was scheduled to visit her sisters from 9:45 to 10:00. Every Monday Trix visited them, and she was just bursting to tell someone about her present. Her sisters were the only ones in all of Oceanopia, besides Captain Estrella, who could keep a secret.
“Hello Trix? How’s Trix?” she yelled into the quartz house at her sisters. She paused for a moment, pretending they could hear her and might respond.
“Tricky!” She answered herself. Trix never got tired of saying that: it was wired in. She made the rollers disappear into her shoes with a thought as she stepped into the house where all the extras were kept. The Trixes were lined up between the Estrellas and Vickis with their eyes closed and bodies inanimate. Five of them hung from the ceiling in clear plasticene casings. Buxom, blonde, and very beautiful! They couldn’t hear Trix, or know anything at all until they were animated, but family was family. Trix had learned that from the humans. Sometimes you could hate your family and be mad at them, but you never abandoned them. Besides, Trix didn’t hate them. In fact, more and more over the last 73 years and 41 days, she had been wanting to wake a Trix up. Maybe that meant that she would go into the ocean, or maybe it meant that there would be someone like her to be around, with the same combination of robot and squirrel on the inside. Not that another Trix would matter without humans to serve, but it might be nice to have another one around. She had imagined conversations with one lots of times.
“Welcome to Oceanopia, the best floating island ever made! You get to live forever! Humans will love you because you are so pretty and fun, and you were made to be likable! You look like the most beautiful perfect human! You are going to be so happy when you serve and protect them. Welcome to paradise!”
But Trix would have to tell new-Trix other things, things she didn’t want to think about. Like how the water and food had gone bad in the world, and how even though Oceanopia used the best filtration system, the transgenics had gotten in anyway. They had all the best medicine and had done much better than the rest of humanity, but the Oceanopians had gotten sick and died anyway. Trix didn’t want to see herself learn that all over again.
Sad is never sexy! Trix told herself and made herself smile.
“Guess what I’m getting Zaria for her birthday? A hot new boyfriend! I hope you all have a terrific day! See you next week, Trixes!” Her rollers popped out and she zoomed away fast, accessing where Zaria was and heading straight for her. “Ocean-o-pi-a! Where the food is great and the girls are first-rate!”
Zaria’s garden was the most awful place on the whole floating island, and Trix hated it that Zaria was always there. The woman had always insisted on growing the old Cascadian plants by herself. As Zaria got older, the garden got worse. Hollyhocks grew like weeds everywhere. A black-leaved plum tree with dead branches sat amid a bunch of shasta daisies who stole water away from the roots of the plum. Imperfect! Nasty! Trix itched to relocate the daisies and prune the tree. She wanted to add mulch and amendments to the soil, and make distinct borders everywhere. The thought of helping sent a trill through Trix, even though she knew Zaria wouldn’t allow it. Lavender crowded into rosemary and mint, all fighting with each other. A cherry tree was being strangled by a blue morning glory vine that wrapped its way up the tree’s trunk. Wrong! Invasive!
It made Trix jittery on the inside to look at the garden, but then she saw Zaria lying out in the grass under the cherry tree, small and withered. An aniborg had helped her out of the float chair that hovered nearby. Tubes ran from the chair to Zaria’s belly, wrists, and nose. Cherry blossoms had fallen like snow on top of her. If Zaria wanted snow, they could close off one of the hexes and make it. They could dress up in slinky body suits and go ice skating! It could be a lot of fun!
Trix just remembered to keep herself from offering to make snow for Zaria. All the aniborgs, for the last 7 years and 132 days, had been asking to do things for Zaria, and the human had done a fine job of keeping most of them busy, most of the time. But because it was her birthday, Trix wouldn’t ask. That seemed to be what Zaria wanted most of all—to be left alone. Outside the garden other aniborgs worked at imaginary chores, keeping an eye on the woman. Just being close to her felt good, even though she was so wrinkly and white-haired it hurt to look at her. “Hiya, birthday girl!” Trix stood over her.
Zaria opened her brown eyes and stared upwards. “Hello, Trix.” “It’s your birthday, your 99th birthday!”
A small smile on Zaria’s face sent bolts of joy through Trix. She spun around twice before flopping down on the ground beside the old woman.
“For your present, I have to ask you some questions. Answer them but don’t think about it, okay?”
Zaria nodded her head.
“What are you looking for in a man?”
Zaria laughed aloud, then it turned into a long, rasping cough. “Do you need water? Inhalants? Heimlich?”
“No, I’m fine,” Zaria said weakly.
“If you could have any man in the whole world, what would he be like?”
Zaria took a long while to answer, and when she did her voice came out very slow. She always spoke too slow these days. “Any human at all would be good, Trix. For all of you though, not for me. I’m…beyond that.”
“Of course for you! It’s your birthday, and I want all your wishes to come true!”
“My wish is that you find people then, lots of kind, healthy people. But you know all the humans are dead, right? No matter what any of us might wish.”
“Do you like tall men?”
“I suppose.”
“Strong, sexy, and rugged?”
“Not too strong. Not too rugged. You remember Isaiah, Trix? That’s who I’d like.”
“But he’s dead.”
Zaria nodded. “A long time dead, but I still love him.”
“When you’re gone, we’ll still love you, forever,” Trix whispered, because it felt like something she didn’t want any of the other aniborgs to hear—something private and true.
“I know,” Zaria whispered back. It seemed to make her sad.
“Gotta go!” Trix got up and ran away from Zaria’s garden, just wanting to go and go and go! There was so much to do to make the best birthday ever for Zaria. Trix would make it so wonderful and spectacular that she would never die! Happiness could do that, it really could! It had to!
“Ocean-o-pi-a! Where you can live forever if you only endeavor!”
As soon as Trix was far away from that rotten garden, she slowed and went to go sit on the Blue Sand beach to think. Half of it had been blasted away during one of the battles, and there was a pretty white fence built around where Oceanopia had broken off. There was still some burnt sand, black mixed in with the blue, along the beach. Trix accessed the outgoing message that announced they had openings at Oceanopia.
Manmade floating island seeks any human life.
It repeated the message drearily in an endless loop. Trix could see why no one had contacted Oceanopia for 73 years and
41 days. It had no dazzle-raz, no snackle-pop! Next Trix accessed information on propaganda. She plucked out the most proven effective strategies and saw immediately what was wrong. The outgoing message had no glittering generalities, or intentional vagueness, or misleading slogans!
Trix adored slogans, and Oceanopia had a lot of them. “Mall of the ocean!”, “The ultimate gated community!”, “The cruise that never ends!” But Trix would have to come up with something even better and more misleading. All the people out there…she looked at the empty horizon. All the people…somewhere, just needed to be convinced what a paradise Oceanopia really was, and then they would come and date Zaria!
No. The whole world is dead, reason told Trix.
She told it to shut up and perk up! Trix decided she would find a glittering generality from her most sparkly day ever! She accessed the first day of Oceanopia, and her first birthday, too!
267 years and 301 days ago, Trix had been animated with all the other unique aniborgs. She’d been given all the information about what she was and what she must do. They’d all been let loose on the brand new Oceanopia to mingle.
“Welcome to Oceanopia! Hiya, I’m Trix. The Co-director of fun! How can I make your fantasies come true?”
Trix told people about all the dances, shows, and parties she would throw for them. They all stared at her, and she felt her squirrel parts wriggling around happily with all the attention. There were so many people to make happy, and so much to explore on Oceanopia!
There was the room of Seafood Madness where mounds of red lobster tails, squid rings, and bright pink salmon were arranged to spell out “Oceanopia!” There was the Laguna Luau with leis. Trix watched Winton croon calypso songs as he poured rum and lime into coconuts, then shook it all up. There was the Gypsy Tent where people smoked water pipes and the music was turned up extra loud.
