Happy Snak

by Nicole Kimberling

  Gaia hit the detail key. Xiao Industries’ logo appeared, borne forth out of nothingness by a swell of hopeful music. In addition to the features mentioned in the previous catalog entry, the new kiosk was suitable for use poolside with closed and insulated electrical circuits. It was a go-anywhere do-anything little piece of potential earning power. Gaia listened intently then heard the list price.

  Expensive was too weak a word to describe the price.

  Gaia had a vision. The kiosk gleamed Happy Snak blue and yellow. Happy Snak’s harlequin logo grinned down from the exorbitantly priced awning. Emblazoned beneath its wide white smile were the words Mini-Snak.

  She had to have it.

  The question was how to get the money. Gaia tossed Stinger’s bead into the air and caught it, then eyed its weird carvings. This little item was definitely worth a kiosk. She only had to find the right buyer. Who on the station was desperate for Kishocha trinkets? Roy and Cheryl were—but they had no money.

  How much would those Boeing scientists pay to have their very own piece of Kishocha material to investigate? Gaia looked up the price of the kiosk again, wrote it down and added twenty percent. Then she texted a message to the Boeing research department. She expressed her interest in selling Stinger’s bead and the price she’d be interested in selling it for. She expected to have the money by the end of the day.

  Everything was working out—well, nearly everything. One obstacle to complete happiness remained: her depressed ghost.

  Well, that wasn’t the only obstacle. She would also love a swell, rich boyfriend to order around. But fulfillment of that desire bordered on complete fantasy, so she focused on the more attainable goal of cheering up Kenjan.

  She’d noticed that Sharkey and Stinger didn’t arrive at the shrine until later in the day. Gaia figured she could get Kenjan to talk to her again if the guards were absent.

  “Dilate,” she told the door. The door complied. She was early, and no guards were visible. Gaia listened, then called, “Kenjan?”

  No response.

  Nothing new there. Being treated as though it was dead had to have dealt a catastrophic blow to Kenjan’s confidence. No wonder Kenjan stayed hidden underwater. The few Kishocha who’d braved the shrine a few days ago hadn’t reappeared yet. Gaia wondered if they ever would.

  She spied the Kishocha in its shell grotto. The alien’s muzzle was illuminated by the faint glow of its hand-held. When it became clear that Kenjan was aware of her presence but choosing to ignore her, Gaia decided that now was the time for action. She took off her Happy Snak smock, pants and shoes. She would talk to Kenjan, whether Kenjan liked it or not. She’d swim across.

  She crouched and peered down at the pink water, which reddened as it deepened. Sliding into the warm water, Gaia carefully avoided touching any of the plants or other creatures that had taken tenuous root along the wall. She didn’t have any urge to die of some intergalactic poison. Gaia paddled along gently. In spite of her concern over Kenjan, she felt giddy. It had been a long time since she’d gone swimming. She used to swim all the time. She’d even gone diving in the submerged sub-basements of the buildings of A-Ki Station a couple of times, but it gave her the creeps to navigate among the cables and girders. Interestingly, she was more buoyant in the Kishocha water than in Earth seawater.

  A few strokes brought Gaia to Kenjan’s island. She pulled herself up by a couple of shell handles that she’d seen Kenjan use. The surface of the island was rough, but not unpleasantly so. She approached the grotto and knocked.

  Through the latticework, Gaia could see Kenjan staring at her in shock.

  “Why are you here?” it finally asked.

  “I decided to come see you. Can I come in?”

  Kenjan stared at her again, as though she’d asked the alien to move Jupiter a little more to the left. “No, you are not allowed here.”

  “I don’t mean to be rude.”

  “I will possess your spirit and escape to go be with my beloved. I cannot help it. You must save yourself.”

  “You couldn’t possess me, even if you tried,” Gaia answered.

  Kenjan snaked a hand out through the latticework and seized Gaia’s arm. A thrill of fear zinged through Gaia’s body. Then its expression changed from hope to disappointment. Kenjan let her go, its apparent possession attempt a total failure. “You are correct.”

  “What would you have done with my body?”

  “Walk to the bed of my Oziru,” Kenjan murmured. “Lie down upon the moss, sing and weep, and beg for my love back.”

  Gaia scratched her forearm. Water dripped from her sodden underwear. She shifted back and forth. “I came to ask why you haven’t been talking to me lately.”

  “Am I required?”

  “No, but Wave is really worried about you.”

  “Sweet Wave,” Kenjan said. “So loyal.”

  “So what’s wrong?” Gaia asked.

  Kenjan threw up its hands in apparent frustration. “I am dead. What could be right about it?”

  “I know that. But I thought we were starting to get to know one another. We might as well.”

  Kenjan regarded her evenly. “Do you understand how wrong you are in every conceivable way?”

  “Uh—” Gaia began. Kenjan cut her off.

  “You are standing where you are forbidden to be, speaking to one who is anathema, wearing less clothes than humans are required to wear. Moreover, you are two hours before the time of offering!”

  “I wanted to talk to you before the guards got here.”

  “You are behaving incorrectly,” Kenjan said.

  “Like you behaved so correctly when you were alive. You said you were a heretic, and Wave told me about how it was always having to apologize for you. You’ve got nerve bitching me out for not doing things right.”

  “Insubordinate creature,” Kenjan growled.

  “Mopey bastard,” Gaia shot back.

  “Unforgivable rudeness to your superior.” Kenjan’s cranial tendrils lashed.

  “My superior?” Gaia’s eyes widened incredulously. “You are such a hypocrite!”

  Kenjan stood and then hesitated. All anger drained from the alien’s face. It slunk out of the grotto, sat down at the water’s edge and pulled its knees up against its chest.

  “Go away, rotten tormenting guardian.” Kenjan spoke halfheartedly. “I am not a hypocrite.”

  Gaia sat next to Kenjan. Her butt was better equipped than her waterlogged feet to deal with the rough crust of the island. “I’m sorry I called you that. Look, I didn’t come here to get into a fight. I just wanted to talk. I want to get to know you since we’re going to be together a long time.”

  “For eternity,” Kenjan said miserably.

  “Right, and I want us to be, you know, friends.”

  “I have no friends but Oziru.”

  “With that attitude you’ll never get any.” Gaia felt somewhat hypocritical herself, lecturing Kenjan on friends when she was a virtual shut-in, but the alien didn’t need to know that. And at least it was talking to her. “What’s Oziru like?”

  “Oziru is a secret sea-cave no one has ever entered. Warm water flows there, heated by the molten fires of the earth. But the journey is darkness and heavy pressure and cold for so long that one gives up hope of finding heat. One fears death. Then, one turn and another, and there is heat and fiery light and blind fish. One is never cold nor hungry nor alone. But then separation comes, and one is once more utterly naked, unprotected and unloved in the cold sea.”

  “You were cold and hungry before you met Oziru?”

  “No, it was only a metaphor for the starvation of my heart,” Kenjan said. “I was told you also use metaphors in language.”

  “We do, but with aliens it’s hard to tell what’s a metaphor sometimes. But maybe we’ll grow to understand each other.”

  “Maybe… I did not realize before that you are also a heretic.”

  “I’m not a heretic,” Gaia said. “I’m just human.”<
br />
  Kenjan thrummed, the corners of its mouth curled up in that Kishocha smile-emulation expression. “Being human is enough.”

  Gaia inspected her toes. Her toenails had been neglected for a long time. She wondered if she should paint them some color, but then couldn’t figure out what color would be best.

  “I’m sorry you’re lonely,” she said.

  Kenjan shrugged. “I’m sure it will pass, once the heat of Oziru’s love has become a dim memory for me.”

  Gaia renewed her intensive toenail scrutiny. Maybe green was the color—or black, like Kishocha nails. She shifted, trying to get comfortable on the rough surface of Kenjan’s island.

  “Like I said, we don’t know each other very well,” she said. “But I’m here to talk if you want.”

  Kenjan regarded her for a long, slow moment. “You must truly go now, or the guards will discover you. I will call my followers to care for me.”

  “Okay.” Gaia followed Kenjan into the water and was glad when it helped her out on the other side. Drippy and chilled, she watched the alien descend beneath her, spiraling down until the Kishocha’s body became an indistinct form in the red depths.

  How interesting to go down there. Leaning back over the water, Gaia turned her head so that her ear was beneath the surface. Ethereal notes, like whale song, vibrated through her eardrum. Was this Kenjan’s voice? Gaia grinned. Somehow she’d imagined Kishocha didn’t communicate underwater. This was just one more secret she knew about Kishocha.

  Would she share it with Fitzpatrick?

  She thought she very well might. Gaia rushed into her bedroom, found the necessary items and dialed. Fitzpatrick’s face appeared a moment later. He sat in his office, desk scrupulously clean, tie straight and stylish.

  “Ms. Jones. To what do I owe this honor?”

  “I just wanted you to hear something. Don’t disconnect until I tell you to.”

  “What fool would disconnect a call from a woman in a wet green brassiere? Is that a condom?”

  Gaia nodded, tearing the foil packet open with her teeth. “You’re going to need some protection where you’re going.”

  “Oh my,” was the last thing Fitzpatrick said before she stretched the latex over the body of her hand-held. She’d heard about this trick from other divers who worked with film companies. She knotted the end of the condom, padded back into the shrine and dunked both her ear and her hand-held below the surface.

  Kenjan still sang. Long complex trills that sounded both savage and operatic. She could have listened for hours, but it was too close to the time of offering to risk being caught.

  When she returned to her room and peeled the condom off her hand-held Fitzpatrick was not alone on her screen. Half a dozen aides and embassy personnel had gathered around the desk, listening. Rapt. Gaia snatched up her discarded Happy Snak smock and grinned sheepishly at the assembled suits.

  She said, “So what did you think?”

  Fitzpatrick’s mouth curled up into a warm, sensuous smile. All he said was “Beautiful.”

  When Gaia re-entered the shrine at the appropriate hour, it bustled with activity though Kenjan remained inside the shell grotto.

  Kishocha gathered at the entrance. At Wave’s urging, they trickled into the shrine. One held a basket of clams.

  “Most excellent Gaia,” Sharkey said from behind her. She hadn’t noticed the guard’s approach and made a mental note that the guard could be much stealthier than she’d imagined a creature with big flipper feet could be.

  “I would never give you any order or imply that I know more than your excellent person, but perhaps now would be a good time to summon the kaijamfutan so that it can eat.” Sharkey averted its eyes.

  “Well, that is my job, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, Great Guardian, it is. How wise you are to notice that,” Sharkey said. “I am in awe of your endless and deep soul.”

  Gaia became aware at that moment that the Kishocha in general, and Sharkey in particular, understood and fully utilized sarcasm. She felt a little disappointed, but also freed. She walked to the edge of the water. “Hey, Kenjan, there are some people here to see you!”

  Slowly, Kenjan stood and walked out of the hut. The assembled Kishocha fell to their knees. Kenjan slipped into the water and swam across to where Gaia stood.

  “Did you just summon me?” Kenjan’s voice was soft and languid.

  “Your friends are here.” Gaia crouched down closer to Kenjan. Inadvertently, she placed her hand inside the calligraphy line.

  Kenjan whispered, “You should use the real prayer to summon me, for the sake of those giving the offering.”

  “Right, thanks.” Gaia winked.

  “Gaia Jones!”

  The sound of Wave bellowing her name startled Gaia out of her glee. She spun around to see Wave standing near the Kishocha entrance to the shrine.

  “Gaia Jones! Respectfully, please come over here at once if it is not too inconvenient, my master,” Wave shouted, gesticulating wildly.

  “Now, that was really a mouthful,” Gaia commented nervously to Kenjan.

  “Please, my master!” Wave’s tone had grown increasingly desperate. “Respectfully, step away from the honored ghost at once and come here immediately if it pleases you!”

  Gaia walked back toward Wave, who’d reached a state of near panic. The dozen or so Kishocha standing near Wave pulled away from her as though she was contagious.

  “You crossed the line,” the alien whispered in dismay.

  “It’s all right,” Gaia tried to reassure the assembled Kishocha. The aliens looked actually repulsed. Gaia knew she’d screwed up.

  “You’ll be possessed! Contaminated and devoured,” Wave said. “You must be exorcised immediately.”

  “I’ll go to get the blessed Seigata,” Stinger said.

  “We should simply destroy the possessed.” Sharkey leveled its spear at her throat. Gaia froze, looking down the razor-sharp blade. The soldier kept its eyes fixed on hers. “The ghost is very powerful.”

  “Don’t!” Wave threw itself between Sharkey and Gaia.

  “Cease!” Kenjan’s voice thundered through the tiny room, echoing off the walls. Gaia’s ears rang. She knew the Kishocha had a powerful vocal range, but had no idea that they could be so oppressively loud outside of the water. “Stand down, soldiers.”

  Reflexively, Sharkey whipped its spear down and started to kneel. Then the guard reconsidered, and stood again.

  “We take no orders from ghosts,” Sharkey said defiantly. Stinger looked more unsure and lingered in a semi-crouch.

  Wave leapt forward. “You must take orders from Gaia Jones though.”

  “This human is possessed,” Sharkey retorted.

  “Are you a priest to say so?” Wave demanded.

  “The servant has a point.” Stinger rose sheepishly up beside Sharkey.

  “This servant is above itself.” Sharkey reached out, ripping the necklace from Wave’s throat. “Who are you to wear this?”

  “I gave that to Wave,” Gaia hissed. She’d stopped being afraid around the time her ears had stopped ringing. Now she was just angry. “You have no right to try and exorcise me. Humans are immune to ghosts. They can’t hurt us. Seigata said so. That’s why I’m the guardian, not you.”

  Silence fell as all present contemplated this incredible information.

  “May I have permission to speak, oh my beloved guardian.” Kenjan’s voice rolled casually across the water.

  “Sure.” Gaia’s voice trembled with anger. She was relieved to find Kenjan so calm.

  “It’s true that humans cannot be touched or possessed by ghosts. You see, their souls are made from fire, not from saltwater,” Kenjan said. “If a ghost were to try to take a human, the souls would consume each other.”

  “Fire?” Wave looked, wide-eyed in awe, at Gaia. “So powerful!”

  “Fire is profane,” Sharkey said.

  “But powerful,” Stinger commented.

  “Seigat
a will hear of this,” Sharkey said. “I hope your exalted personage has not been lying about the composition of your soul.” Sharkey and Stinger withdrew and took up their former places on either side of the door to the Kishocha waterway.

  Gaia felt all her blood rush to her head. Her veins throbbed at maximum capacity. “Don’t think you two are going to just stand there after what you’ve done.”

  Stinger and Sharkey glanced at each other, then at Wave.

  “What do you mean, Gaia?” Wave asked.

  “I mean you.” Gaia jabbed a finger at Sharkey. “You just had a spear at my fucking throat, and you—” Gaia turned her accusing finger on Stinger. “You didn’t even try and intervene. Just get the hell out, both of you.”

  “But it’s their job to guard, Gaia.” Wave flattened itself on the floor before her. “Please be understanding!”

  “Oh?” She turned to Stinger and Sharkey. “Who are they guarding? Me?”

  “Yes, Exalted Guardian,” Sharkey said.

  “Without question, Exalted Guardian,” Stinger chimed in.

  “Then I guess you’ll be going back to Oziru and saying you’ve really fucked up,” Gaia said.

  “Oh no!” Wave dropped down to its knees. “Please, Gaia, don’t.”

  “For God’s sake, Wave, will you stop begging.” Gaia shook with anger.

  “I’m sorry.” Wave mashed its face into the floor.

  “Stop it.” Gaia seized Wave’s arm and yanked up. “Get up off the damn floor.”

  Wave remained limp.

  “My beloved guardian,” Kenjan said. Gaia let go of Wave and turned. Kenjan was lying half-in and half-out of the water. “Please be kind and gentle to your servants. If you are fierce I may never eat. The ones bearing offerings have all fled from your wrath.” Kenjan gestured to the space where the rest of the Kishocha used to be. All that remained was one small basket of clams.

  Gaia’s anger suddenly went flaccid. Kenjan was dependent on her for its very existence, as was Wave, and she suspected that Stinger and Sharkey might also face grave consequences if she rejected them. Gaia surveyed the four Kishocha and felt grudgingly sorry. She had the sudden sense that she was the foreigner here, and somehow she must try to bend, even though she didn’t really understand why or in what direction.