Happy Snak

by Nicole Kimberling

Fitzpatrick seemed amused by this. “Excellent theory. What do you think chowder says about me?”

  “You’re from the northern coast. You’re used to going to ski lodges and dating girls who wear sweaters and curl up to you for a bowl of steaming hot chowder?” Gaia guessed. “You use the coziness stratagem.”

  “Very good, Ms. Jones.” Fitzpatrick smiled over his fork. “And what is your dish?”

  “Anything that can be breaded, wrapped in waxed paper or eaten off a stick.”

  “So you attract a male with bright colors and eye-catching graphics, use him quickly while on the go and dispose of him neatly in any convenient trash receptacle?”

  “I like convenient men.”

  “Kenjan certainly isn’t convenient.”

  “Kenjan’s not a man,” Gaia replied. “And besides Kenjan is convenient. It’s right there, twenty feet away from me at all times. Wave is practically in my underwear with me. All in all, the Kishocha are pretty convenient. It’s just that they’re also foreign and scary.”

  “It’s a lot of work to understand them, but it’s worth it in the long run,” Fitzpatrick said. “Do you think they’re going to like the Mini-Snak?”

  “I do. I’m thinking of building a customer base. I want them to be happy, and I want them to have snacks. That’s the whole idea of Happy Snak. Do you know that they don’t even have the basic concept of snacks? It’s kind of sad.”

  “That they don’t like fatty, salty food?”

  “No! They don’t have the concept that they deserve a treat. It doesn’t have to be greasy and salty. It could be sweet or wriggly or crunchy or slippery, but it has to be fun. It has to be cheap and special. It’s the—” Gaia faltered, remembering what Wave had told her and suddenly feeling the truth of her words. Owning them. “It’s the most basic personal freedom.”

  Fitzpatrick paused for a thoughtful moment then said, “I suppose you’re right. Put that way, snacks are really rather subversive to their culture.”

  “I’m not going to stop though. I love watching them try new things, and then decide for themselves whether they’re horrible or wonderful. Most of them have never gotten the chance to choose anything for themselves. It’s all virgin territory. Many of the soldiers and servants really are curious about humans and human things, but they just aren’t allowed to try them out under normal circumstances.”

  “Is that why you and Wave were discussing human sex practices?” Fitzpatrick asked innocently.

  “How do you know that?” Gaia reddened.

  “One of the embassy secretaries overheard Wave telling Roy about it. He was dying to know how the Kishocha do it. Because of you we’re all learning so much more about them than we ever would have.”

  “I think I might be learning a little too much.”

  “It’s not uncommon to experience culture shock when going from one human country to another. I can’t imagine what you must be experiencing, but I suggest that you talk to Oziru about what happened to you. The alien has an interest in making you feel comfortable and safe.”

  “I guess,” Gaia said.

  “You really should, if only to have bragging rights on being the first human allowed into the Kishocha sector. Plus you’d have an excuse to request a rebreather. And if you did go to speak with Oziru, you could do me the very great service of asking about the cause of recent gravity failures.”

  “I wouldn’t understand the answer, even if Oziru explained it.” Gaia gave a short laugh. Physics had never been her strong suit. “Can’t you have one of the scientists call them and ask?”

  “If Oziru was answering its phone, that’s exactly what we would do. Alas, the ruler of the Kishocha has been incommunicado since Kenjan has become a ghost.”

  “Did you try reaching Seigata? I know that at least the security forces have no trouble at all contacting that alien.” As soon as Gaia asked, she realized how futile asking the priest for help would be. Fitzpatrick’s expressive eye-roll communicated volumes.

  “Seigata said that Oziru might be punishing us for allowing Kenjan to die, but I don’t know if I buy it. Did Wave ever mention that Oziru might hold a grudge about that?”

  “Never. Wave would have mentioned something like that.” Gaia folded her napkin and laid it across her plate. “Is that why you really asked me to dinner? To talk me in to finding Oziru?”

  “Not at all. I asked you to dinner because I’m hoping to seduce you. Being able to discuss the gravity issue is merely a fringe benefit of my lecherous initial plan.” Fitzpatrick finished the last of his veal. “Shall we order dessert? It’s something cheap and special, and for no good reason.”

  Gaia smiled. “Sure.”

  They finished dessert and cigarette gum, which Gaia didn’t usually chew, but the evening seemed special enough to indulge in a few excesses. When they left the restaurant, it seemed normal to go back to Fitzpatrick’s embassy quarters for another drink. Then it seemed perfectly reasonable to sleep with him, if only to try out his sheets. It had been a long time since she’d enjoyed that variety of human comfort.

  She was on top. He was a good lover. They fell asleep for a while. She dreamed she found a soft-serve ice cream that was perfectly clear—so clear that it was almost invisible. While the idea delighted her, it also disturbed her. She couldn’t figure out what it was made from, or how it could be as clear as water and still taste like fresh raspberries. The more she looked at it, the more alien it seemed. But the more unnatural it became, the more utterly she desired it.

  Gaia pulled her eyes open and sat unsteadily up.

  The clock read eleven fifteen and she hadn’t fed Kenjan. She left Fitzpatrick asleep.

  When she got back to Happy Snak, there were two messages for her. One was a note from Roy saying that he and Wave had taken care of Kenjan. The other was a voice-only from Fitzpatrick, wishing her good night.

  Chapter Nineteen: Deep Water

  When Kenjan heard Gaia’s plans to see Oziru, the alien asked for paper. Gaia gave Kenjan a pad of paper. Kenjan rejected her offering. It wasn’t Kishocha paper. An argument ensued about Kenjan asking for things Gaia could not get.

  Wave had vanished then reappeared with some thin, flat, purple sea creature. Kenjan took the creature and started cutting what she now recognized as Kishocha letters into its skin. Gaia shuddered and joked about living documents. No one laughed.

  Gaia received and installed surveillance cameras the day after the attack. She looked in on the shrine several times a day, both to ensure Kenjan’s safety and out of idle voyeuristic curiosity.

  She also practiced diving with her Mitsubishi rebreather.

  The company had expanded into heavy underwater equipment during the suboceanic development boom in Tokyo Bay. Her gear was on loan from the maintenance crew. They used divers to access the bottom levels of station buildings, which remained permanently flooded. The woman who brought it over had pointed out the rebreather’s individual quirks, and questioned Gaia pointedly about her actual diving ability.

  Gaia had taken up diving during her marriage. While she was underwater, her husband couldn’t talk to her, not even by phone. This resulted in her racking up copious hours at Keystone and other locations in Puget Sound, a trip to the Great Barrier Reef and serious consideration of underwater welding as a career.

  Wave was upset by Gaia’s presumptuousness. It simply couldn’t imagine that Gaia was going to see Oziru uninvited. When Wave had suggested that it go ahead to beg for an audience, Gaia had forbidden it, explaining that she didn’t want Oziru to have the chance to deny her. This further upset Wave, who expressed its extreme reluctance to take her. Gaia said she’d go by herself if Wave didn’t want to go.

  This made Kenjan laugh.

  Wave fretted. The alien’s twelve bony and elongated fingers knotted together as if holding on to one another for comfort. At last Wave agreed to take Gaia to Oziru.

  Gaia checked the straps of her flippers. They were far uglier than Wave’s naturally aquatic feet
. Her flippers were stiff and yellow. Her wetsuit was garish red.

  The document lay in a shallow bucket. Kenjan’s incisions had gradually sealed up, leaving deep blue scars. Kenjan’s signature took up at least one quarter of the available writing space.

  Wave gazed at Gaia’s Mitsubishi flippers with serious intensity. “I like this formal shoe better than the other one. The other shoe made your foot look too little and stumpy. This shoe is a pretty yellow color.”

  “Thanks.” Gaia checked the seals on her equipment. “Are we ready to go?”

  “Yes please.” Wave shoved the document into a net bag where it dripped and struggled weakly. Gaia pulled her mask over her face and flopped stupidly along the floor, making at least three times as much noise as Wave did. Until now, she had never noticed how the Kishocha could pull their toes together to muffle the slapping noise. She glanced over at Kenjan, who chuckled behind its hand.

  “Laugh it up,” Gaia muttered.

  When they reached the waterway, Waved dived in. Gaia followed more slowly, easing herself through the initial transition from breathing gas to liquid. The first draw of fluid always made her gag a little, even after so many times.

  The Kishocha water was warm, and except for the cleaners gliding through it on their translucent, undulating mantles, rather empty. The cleaners looked a lot better underwater than they did sliming along the walls. In the water they had grace and speed. Moving like miniature flying carpets, they swept past Gaia’s legs and disappeared into the deeper water. Visibility was higher than she expected, but compromised by the overall dimness in the waterway.

  Wave sat on the shell floor, waiting for her. Its cranial tendrils drifted casually around its head. Fully unfurled, Wave’s feet were bigger than her flippers. Wave’s ribcage began to expand. Vibrant, red gills opened alongside of the alien’s chest cavity. Gaia’s eyes widened.

  Wave made an enormous smile-face, and then Gaia heard a series of clicks and high squeaks. It sounded like feedback or dolphins.

  Gaia tried to find the source of the sound. Wave tapped her arm and the same sequence repeated. She realized Wave was talking to her. Gaia gestured toward the surface and swam up. Wave followed. Once she’d coughed the oxygenated fluid back into her rebreather mouthpiece, she took a shuddering breath of air.

  “What did you say?” Gaia bobbed in the gentle waves.

  “I asked—show me your gills, please.”

  “I don’t have gills,” Gaia said, laughing.

  Wave was astounded. “How do you breathe?”

  “I breathe through this thing on my back,” Gaia said. “It has special human breathing liquid inside.”

  “I thought it was some kind of formal dress.”

  “It’s a life-support apparatus.”

  “You do not ever breathe water?”

  “No.” Gaia spat out the remainder of the rebreather fluid.

  A look of startled knowledge crossed Wave’s face. “You mean you are a drownable thing?”

  Gaia snorted and accidentally inhaled a gulp of water, which she immediately coughed back out. “All humans are. Didn’t you know?”

  “All humans drown?”

  “Yes.”

  “You should get out of the water right now, Gaia Jones. Water is a drowning atmosphere.”

  “It’s okay, Wave. I have this.” Gaia showed Wave the mouthpiece.

  “But it takes a long time to swim to Oziru’s garden.”

  “How long?” Gaia asked. “In human minutes?”

  “Maybe twenty.”

  “This has six hours of oxygen.” A thought suddenly struck Gaia. “Oziru’s garden isn’t all underwater is it?”

  “No, there are flying things in it.”

  “Then it should be okay. Just lead the way.”

  “Okay.” Wave made the okay sign.

  “One more thing.”

  “Yes?”

  “I can’t understand you when you talk underwater.”

  “Oh, I understood that with my intelligent deduction. You don’t speak underwater Kishocha language. Okay now, let’s go please?” Wave dipped below the water. It waited for her to submerge, took a few lazy kicks then, when Gaia followed, Wave darted suddenly downward and sped away. Gaia kicked as fast as she could, but quickly lost sight of Wave when the alien rounded a corner. Gaia tried to follow and felt a current pulling her toward a dark downward bend. A cleaner undulated by below her, was caught in the current and sucked out of sight. The shell walls glowed eerily phosphorescent green and purple. She could barely see.

  A sudden fear jolted through her as she realized that she hadn’t bothered to reset her orientation device at Happy Snak. She assumed that Wave would be beside her the whole time and it had just slipped her mind. She knew A-Ki Station was big, and she didn’t know how deep this hole below her was, or where it went, or if Wave had even gone that way. She was a hundred yards from Happy Snak and nearly lost already. She focused on keeping her breathing steady. If she went down that hole she could easily be pulled too far downward to ever find her way home. And she was a drownable thing.

  She felt the current suddenly pulse, jerking her downward nearly twenty feet. Gaia swam up with all her strength. For a moment, she swam in place before finally crawling back to shallow water.

  This was a disaster. She wasn’t going to be able to see Oziru. Bruising disappointment burst through her chest.

  The surface glimmered a few feet above her. Gaia swam toward it with a sense of crushing defeat. Then she caught the sound of Kishocha being spoken. It seemed to be coming from all around her. She twisted around, trying to see who was talking.

  Downward and to her left, a black Kishocha hand beckoned her.

  It wasn’t Wave. Wave’s hands were white. She kicked through the water, until she reached a cavelike opening in the shell wall. A spiderweb-like grate made of red shell blocked the entrance. Kenjan floated on the other side. Kenjan’s chest had expanded to cartoonish proportions. The flesh inside its gills was violet. Kenjan’s cranial tendrils, lacking any sense of obedience to the laws of gravity, floated around the Kishocha’s head in a spectral way. The white bands around its cranial tendrils and the markings of Kenjan’s muzzle glowed faintly blue.

  Kenjan looked just like a ghost. The alien beckoned to her. Gaia drifted forward, determined to not be given the creeps. Many underwater creatures had phosphorescence. Kenjan’s simultaneous undeadness and glowing were coincidental. Gaia repeated this to herself.

  Kenjan reached out. Gaia extended her hand. Kenjan pressed a flat, thumbnail-sized object into her palm while mouthing the word “Oziru” in an exaggerated way. Gaia nodded. Kenjan withdrew into the darkness of the cave as quickly as an eel.

  Gaia didn’t open her hand. She desperately didn’t want to drop this object. This thing had to be important. Why else would Kenjan feel it had to pass it to her from the shadows of some kind of drain? She felt bad because she wasn’t going to be able to deliver it.

  As she swam toward the surface, Wave returned. Oddly, the alien approached her from the opposite direction. They both surfaced. Gaia tucked the mysterious object surreptitiously into the leg of her wetsuit.

  “Gaia Jones,” Wave said seriously. “Can you swim?”

  Gaia heaved out the liquid for the second time in five minutes. She felt ill. Her nose ran freely. “Yes, of course.”

  “Please show me swimming if it is convenient for you.”

  Gaia complied in an amused way, swimming in a circle around Wave. “There.”

  “So you are an honorable slow cripple swimmer.”

  “Well, I can’t swim as fast as you,” Gaia said, huffily.

  “I will carry you,” Wave pronounced. “I will be your swiftly kicking feet.”

  Gaia scowled, disliking this idea, but unable to find a good reason not to agree to Wave’s plan. It would be safer, but she wanted to have time to look around. She hadn’t allowed herself to even dream of what it would be like to swim in alien water, because the l
ikelihood of it had been nil. Now she was here and wanted a chance to meander. Then again, she would have time to meander when her own scuba gear arrived.

  Wave continued, “I will take only shallow waterways in case you are drowning. Then, I’ll push you to the surface. Does that please you greatly?”

  “How long would it take to get to Oziru’s garden swimming at my speed?”

  “I do not know, but maybe we would grow old and die before we reached our exalted destination,” Wave said.

  “Then I guess you can carry me.”

  They submerged again, and Gaia waited while Wave arranged her under its body, facing downward. With no regard for Gaia’s breasts, Wave wrapped its sinuous arms around her chest. The alien took a few experimental kicks, then she felt Wave’s body convulse. Together they shot through the water, whipped around the curve, caught the downward current, and plunged into the dark tunnel. Phosphorescence surrounded her, but they swam so fast that Gaia couldn’t make out where it came from. They curled past a startled Kishocha, made a turn and sped on, downward. Gaia had a moment to glimpse a school of silvery fish before they plunged through them and scattered them like leaves. Another corkscrew turn and they were in a lighted waterway.

  It was as wide as a highway and full of swimming creatures and sound. Clicks, squeaks, squeals, and long, low growls overlapped each other into an impossible noise. Kishocha stopped to stare at them. Huge, torso-sized fish with fins resplendent and colorful as kites ambled by. Unlike the floor of the waterway near Happy Snak, this one teemed with life. Anemone-like creatures undulated far below her on the sandy floor. Spidery crabs scuttled through a twisting forest of submerged tree roots, swinging like armored monkeys. An alarmingly large eel with a mouth crammed full of teeth lunged out at them. Wave paid no attention to any of it. They burst up from the water. Wave pulled her halfway out.

  “Are you drowned?” Wave yelled. She turned and removed her mouthpiece.

  “I’m fine.” Gaia was annoyed, yet touched by Wave’s concern.

  The walkways alongside the waterways were crowded and silent. Kishocha of every describable marking, who moments ago had been going about their arcane duties, stopped and gawked at Gaia as though she had arrived from Mars.