by Andrew Gates
For some reason, those words did not put him at ease.
PNEUMONIA.
That had to be it. After what must have been weeks, Sara still felt herself shiver in the warm air. The storm had done a number of things to her health, including induce some intense hunger, dehydration and soreness, but worst of all was the shivering, a relentless shiver that never seemed to go away. At times she would stand beneath the steam for hours until she sweat so hard that she nearly passed out. But even then, it never did any good. The shivering persisted like an incurable virus.
When she wasn't shaking, Sara would cough so hard, she thought she would choke. At times it even hurt just to breathe. But she rested easy knowing that she was, at the very least, safe from harm.
It took almost a full day after the storm for the platform keepers to remove the tarp. Sara practically starved in the time it took for them to arrive, but once the tarp was gone, she wasted no time gorging herself. She ate so much, she threw half of it up hours later. The food seemed relatively unaffected by the weather. A few plants had been squashed here and there, but most of it remained intact and healthy.
She was lucky. The storm could have easily killed her and destroyed the food. But here she was, sick, but alive.
"Next time," she reflected aloud, "we may not be so lucky."
She took a deep breath. Her lungs practically stung as she inhaled.
"Ah, it hurts!" Sara pressed her hands into her chest, trying to numb the pain.
Talking to herself started off as just a way to pass the time, but lately it had evolved into something else. Sara now felt compelled to do it, as if staying silent would drive her mad. She had conversions with herself, long debates, questions and answers, even arguments.
"Of course it hurts. Everything hurts," she responded.
Sara closed her eyes and stood still until she no longer felt the pain in her chest. She took a few deep breaths and calmly opened her eyes again. Everything seemed to be okay for now.
"It's been a long time since the visitors came," she said, changing the subject. Sometimes it was best to talk about things other than the pain or shivers.
"Not since the storm," she agreed.
"Did they forget about this place?"
Sara shook her head.
"Doubt it. They probably have other things going on."
"Like what?"
Sara threw her arms in the air.
"Maybe the storm broke some of their equipment and they have to fix it," she supposed.
"They still need to eat. Even if their equipment is broken, they won't stop needing food."
"Then whatever's distracting them must be pretty important," she replied.
Sara felt herself begin to tremble. She crossed her arms over her chest to warm herself up and made her way to the tower of steam.
"Not again, not the shivers again," she said, worriedly.
Sara stood beneath the warm mist and gazed out toward the sunset. The sea above glowed in a stunning array of oranges, yellows and reds. It was like something from a painting. Even after all these months on the platform, Sara never seemed to grow tired of such a beautiful vista.
The lone woman sighed.
"It's pretty," she said as the steam flowed around her.
"Sure is," she replied, nodding.
Sara was quiet for a moment, just taking in the sight before responding right away.
"The days are getting longer," she eventually noted. "When we first arrived, the light did not linger like this."
"Let's hope that trend continues," Sara replied, "for our own sake."
"Our own sake?"
Sara nodded.
"The longer the days, the warmer the air. It gets cooler at night, which is not something we need if we're getting sick," she explained. "Plus the light is good for the plants."
"Good point."
Suddenly the platform began to shake. Sara held her arms out for balance, but toppled over nonetheless. The center of the platform was typically the least likely to rock from waves. She was surprised that something had managed to shake it with such power. The woman stood up and pulled her hair back behind her head.
"What was that?" she asked, looking around for anything suspicious.
"Not sure, but something isn't right. That was too powerful to be a regular wave," she replied.
"Come on, let's take a look."
Sara left the sanctity of her warm steam and made her way to the platform's edge. She was careful to watch where she walked, trying not to step on anymore of the produce. When she finally reached the edge, she leaned over and studied the water.
A line of bubbles dotted the ocean's surface, heading directly eastward. Whatever it was, something must have passed directly below her. She peered down even further, hoping to see anything, even just a clue of what may have lurked below. At first she saw nothing, but then the platform began to shake again and a faint light moved deep below her, eastward through the water. It must have been several hundred meters down. A line of bubbles followed.
"A submarine!" she said, excitedly. "There's a submarine down there!" She leaned over the edge and pointed.
The platform shook again. Sara clung to the side. Another light followed, then another, then another.
"What is going on? Why are so many subs converging on one place at once?" she asked, crawling away from the edge.
"Maybe this is why the farmers have been so distracted. Maybe they're working on whatever's going on down there.”
"Farmers aren't submarine pilots."
"No, but they could still be involved," Sara suggested.
She shrugged.
"Well what could they be involved with anyway?"
"Down there?"
"Yeah."
Sara stroked her chin, thinking.
"Not sure. Maybe they're going to the station?"
"Do they even have the technology to do that?"
"We got here, didn't we?"
Sara shook her head.
"Not the same. We weren't supposed to be here. We made an emergency ascent. Plus we had the Cassidy."
"So what about the Cassidy?"
"The Cassidy is, or rather, was the only vessel that could make a trip like that. It was one of a kind."
"Maybe they built more like it."
"Maybe," Sara replied, "but somehow, that doesn't seem right."
"We're on a floating farm in the middle of the ocean, Sara. We've seen enough weirdness already to know that anything is possible."
Sara bobbed her head. She had to admit, that was a good point.
"Well... let's just wait and see what happens next."
It was nighttime when the platform began to rock again. Sara awoke suddenly as the float lifted and dropped. She felt herself shiver right away and crossed her arms around her chest. Her teeth clattered together like a metronome set to high.
"What was that?" she asked, sitting up.
It was dark out, but the lights above glimmered and reflected off the ocean's surface.
"Another shake. The subs must be back!" Sara replied.
She forced herself to get up and made her way to the east side of the platform again, hoping to get another view of a submarine far below. She felt like her insides were frozen as she walked. It was as if her organs were made of ice.
"Who knew it was even possible to feel this c...cold?" Sara asked.
She shook her head.
"Hopefully it will pass. This can't be permanent."
"Hopefully," Sara repeated.
When she finally reached the edge, Sara peered down, but was careful not to lean too far over. The last thing she wanted to do was topple into the water after another surprise shake.
Sure enough, more lights shined far below the sea. They were much easier to spot in the nighttime. Sara could see them almost as clearly as she could see the glowing dots above her head.
"Looks like they're back."
"Yeah, but they're going the wrong way. The subs were going east la
st time. Now they're going west," she noted.
"They must be coming back from wherever they went. They must be done."
"Done?" Sara asked.
"Yeah, done with whatever they needed to do."
Sara gulped. For some strange reason, she did not like the sound of those words.
"What could they have been doing?"
She shrugged.
"Testing ships, just like we were?"
"Testing ships? But there's like a bunch of them."
She threw her arms in the air.
"It's just an idea. What do we know?"
"Nothing," Sara replied. "That's the problem. We know nothing."
The platform shook again, prompting her to pull back from the dark water. Splashes poured over the edge. Her feet got wet. She stepped aside, hoping to stay dry.
As she looked out onto the water, a mysterious sight caught her eye. Something floated in the ocean, a dark, unidentifiable figure. It was thick and opaque. It bobbed up and down, moving with the waves.
"What is that?"
"What?"
"That there!" Sara explained, pointing.
She squinted as she examined it. The darkness made it nearly impossible to discern anything. Fortunately, the object seemed to be drifting in her direction. It would be only a matter of time until it collided with the platform.
Birds began to circle over the object now, as if inspecting it from above. Some started squawking, others simply remained quiet.
"What could they want?" Sara wondered.
"The animals?"
"Yeah."
"Maybe they think it's food."
Food. What if this thing in the water is alive?
The object was close enough now that Sara could see it a bit clearer. It looked like a thick mass with appendages sticking out at different points. The appendages were outstretched like the arms of a starfish.
She leaned over the edge and reached for it. A horrid smell entered her nostrils, prompting her to gag. She instinctively pulled back and allowed herself to recompose before reaching out again, this time while holding her breath.
The waterline was too low to touch so she had to wait for another wave to bring the object high enough for her to grab it from the platform. With all the submarine movement below, it did not take long for a big slash to rise up to her level. Sara took advantage of this moment and grabbed hold of the object as it moved with the water. Whatever it was, it felt like damp clothing. The water lowered again and Sara realized just how heavy the object was. She tried pulling it up, but couldn't. It slipped right out of her grip and fell back into the ocean.
Sara pulled away from the edge and allowed herself to take another breath of air. She took a few seconds to recompose herself. Grabbing this thing was a harder task than she expected. After a few seconds, she nodded and went back to the edge.
The object was still in the same place. Sara held her breath again and waited for another wave to push it up. Once it did, she grabbed onto the object tightly with both hands and pulled as hard as she could from one of the smaller appendages. The surface of the object felt different this time. It did not remind her of damp clothes like before. This time it felt like it was coated in thin strands of fur. As the wave moved back down, Sara pulled even harder, intent on not losing her prize this time. She lifted and lifted, putting all her muscles into it. It remained in her hands. She managed to get it over the edge and dragged it onto the platform.
Sara let out a deep breath as she released the object from her grip. It made a squish sound as it fell against the surface. The awful scent immediately entered her nose again.
The inside of her lungs stung from all the heavy breathing. She ignored the frightful scent and held her hands against her chest for a few moments, giving herself time for the pain to subside.
"This better be worth something," she said while catching her breath.
She wiped some sweat from her face and leaned down to inspect her pungent prize. She lifted it up from the furry part and gasped at the sight underneath.
A face. A man's face.
Sara had pulled up a corpse floating on its stomach.
"It's... it's a person, a human, a man!" she said, practically unable to get the words out. "How did... how did he get here? Did he leave the station and float up the whole way?"
"Maybe he was piloting one of those subs."
"No, probably not. Look at how he's dressed."
It was hard to make out what this man was wearing in the dark, but it certainly did not look like a white Navy uniform. Plus his hair was too long to be a regulation cut. This must have been a civilian.
Sara stood up straight and ran her fingers through her hair. This was just too weird.
More birds flew in like an army of hungry children. They made their way out over the water, crowding around various points in the ocean. That's when Sara spotted them, tons of them, dotting the sea like words on a page.
The ocean was filled with corpses.
IT WAS LOUD.
The 18-year-old boy smiled, feeling a mix of excitement, nervousness and relief. Damien Saljov took a step onto the stage with his fellow graduates. For a few seconds, the 18-year-old stood there, waiting in anticipation, trying to soak in the moment. He looked out toward the crowd. There were so many faces he did not know, just strangers in an ocean of unknown names.
“Damien Saljov!” the principal called out, bringing him back to reality.
He walked across the stage, forgetting about the faces. He eagerly took the diploma from the principal. He smiled and darted off stage in excitement, pausing briefly to allow his old math teacher to snap a photo.
Finally high school was just a thing of the past. It’s time for me to live my life.
It was quiet.
The 20-year-old man waved to his older brother as he slid the backpack over his shoulders. Even with the dark bag hanging on his back, Tracey’s clean Navy jacket looked as bright as a crystal underneath the light.
“I can’t believe you’re leaving us,” his mother said, giving him a warm embrace. The petite, fair-haired woman’s face showed a mix of excitement and sadness. Her vivid red dress stood out as a sharp contrast next to her son’s clean white uniform.
Tracey smiled.
“I’m not leaving you, mom. I’ll be on the north wing of Level 1, at least for now. You can’t really ever leave,” he explained.
A tear formed on her face.
“I know,” she replied calmly, “but I’ll miss having you at home.”
Tracey broke the embrace and looked toward his younger brother.
“You take care of yourself now, okay?” he said.
Damien nodded.
“You know I will. College is…” the young man struggled to find the right words, “college is easy.”
Tracey smiled. Damien patted his brother on the back and the two shared an embrace.
“I’ll see you later,” Tracey said.
Damien let go of his brother as the Navy recruit nodded to their mother. With a tear in her eyes, she nodded back and walked silently into the next room. She knew it was time to let them be alone together.
“How is she?” Damien asked, changing the tone once he was sure she had gone. He didn’t want to talk about his brother’s wife in front of her.
Tracey shook his head.
“She’s not happy that I left her and she’s even less happy that I’m keeping Ophelia.”
Damien looked down to his orange sneakers.
“It’s for the better,” he said, looking back up to his brother again. “She was never there for Ophelia. There’s a difference between being there physically and-”
“I know,” Tracey interrupted. He sighed and wiped his face. “I’m just worried how Ophelia will do raised in the Navy, surrounded by government and guns and-”
“She’ll be fine,” Damien interrupted back. “Kids are raised on military bases all the time. Plus, she’s got a great dad with her.”
Trac
ey smiled and slowly nodded his head.
“Thanks,” he said.
Damien smiled back.
“No problem, man,” he replied. “I’ll see you later.”
The 20-year-old waved to his brother as he walked off and closed the door behind him.
It was familiar.
The 22-year-old walked onto the stage for the second time in his life. The feeling was similar: excitement, nervousness, relief. Damien turned his head again as he waited for his name to be called. This time the sea of faces beyond him looked different. The faces were stronger, more sure of themselves, more prepared for the uncertainty that stood before them.
“Damien Saljov!” shouted the school president.
The Oceanic Studies student walked across the stage with pride, reaching out his hand as he had done only four years prior. He grabbed the frame from the president’s hand and posed as a complete stranger snapped a picture on her pod.
When he walked off stage, he returned to his seat and turned his head, looking back at his family. He saw his mother a few rows back before anyone else. Despite her new purple dress and layers of makeup, she looked worse than he remembered. Each day she had been getting smaller and weaker. But she smiled nonetheless.
Tracey sat next to her in his pressed white uniform. He fiddled with his fingers and looked over his shoulder, as if worried someone would attack. Lately he had been growing paranoid. Damien assumed their mother’s health was getting to him. After losing their father at such a young age, Damien figured the fear of losing his mother was putting too much stress on him.
Ophelia sat next to her father at the end of the aisle, shifting around in the large chair. Despite her father’s mounting suspicions, Ophelia had grown into one of the smartest kids Damien had ever known. The girl wore a bright orange dress, shining like a flame in a dark room. The graduate could hardly believe how much she had grown. The six-year-old looked twice as big since he had seen her last.
The graduate turned back around and faced the stage as another stranger received his degree. Young Damien knew what he was going to do next. After the ceremony, he would follow his older brother’s path and enlist in the Navy. It seemed like the best thing to do. The pay was good and steady, offering lots of paid vacation time and loads of extra benefits. Damien would never have to worry about a thing.
