Happy Snak

by Nicole Kimberling

  “Yes, of course. I’m so sorry. I had forgot I even had it. I haven’t even thought of it for months.” Gaia’s skin prickled. Did Seigata think she’d kept Kenjan’s pit guard on purpose? No wonder the alien had a low opinion of humans.

  “Ignorance must be forgiven, or all servants would be beaten to death.”

  “I’ll get the pit guard back to you. I promise. And Fitzpatrick might be able to help me find the other things. They’re probably just in a locker someplace.”

  Or being auctioned off to the highest bidder, but no. As far as she knew she was the only person auctioning Kishocha items. Then again, there were many illegal auctions out there… She hoped she could make good on this promise.

  “The sooner you can return these items to me, the better,” Seigata said. “But that is trivial and easily taken care of. Just pass them to Sharkey tomorrow. More importantly, you must control the ghost. Many call for Kenjan’s exorcism. They call to me to cease the ghost songs permeating our waters. They cannot sleep for fear the ghost will enter their minds. Many sleep out of the waters or with ear covers.”

  “I’m sorry about that, I’ll talk to Kenjan.”

  “It is my decision to silence Kenjan or not,” Seigata said. “And Kenjan is unruly and disruptive. Kenjan sings all night. If you could hear it, you would know that Wave is the only Kishocha who ever sleeps now. This song so upsets Oziru that it does not sing, then your Coca-Cola temple almost breaks free adrift in the great ocean.”

  “The gravity failure is not Kenjan’s fault. Oziru said it was just sick with sorrow.”

  “Oziru would not shirk its sacred responsibilities if Kenjan did not force it.”

  “But really, Kenjan might be annoying—”

  “Do you suggest that hounding Oziru is a forgivable thing?” Seigata interrupted severely.

  Gaia suppressed her every immediate urge. She was being pointlessly argumentative. She forced herself to think like Fitzpatrick. What would he say?

  “No, absolutely not. Oziru is the undisputed master of Ki Island.”

  “I am glad to hear you say it,” Seigata said. “I was beginning to suspect that you had become sick and possessed. You must understand that you are an advocate only for the ghost as a dead thing and not for Kenjan as though it was still a person.”

  “Yes, I understand.” Gaia held tight to the working vocabulary of her internal Fitzpatrick.

  “If you have the power to make Kenjan stop singing, you must use it soon. I cannot explain how important this is. Oziru must be able to sleep and dance. Oziru provides for all of us. Kenjan is dead and selfishly wishes Oziru to join it in oblivion, but if that happens, we will all wither and die.”

  “I understand,” Gaia said. “I will do as you ask.”

  “Excellent.” Seigata lifted a hand and formed a strange sign in the air. “I bless you, and wish you all success.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two: Isolation

  Gaia hunched on the edge of the waterway, coughing and retching up fluid. Her arms shook with exhaustion. Her throat ached. Her nose burned. She felt leaden and ill. This was the way she always felt after diving. While she was in the Kishocha sector she just hadn’t noticed.

  She had a lot to do before she could slide into torpor. She couldn’t allow herself to think too hard about today. Numbness slipped over her and she accepted it. Numbness would help her get through the next few minutes with Kenjan. Then she’d be able to try and locate Kenjan’s missing jewelry.

  She rubbed her eyes and looked around for Wave. She saw wet footprints preceding her into the shrine. When she entered she followed the tracks to their terminus—her closed bedroom door. Wave had gone ahead without her.

  Strange.

  But maybe Wave had been just as scared as she’d been.

  Kenjan was in its grotto staring at its new hand-held. Lights flickered across its muzzle.

  “Kenjan!” Gaia called across the water. “I delivered your letter.”

  The Kishocha set its hand-held down and emerged from its little house. “What did my beloved say?”

  Gaia took a deep breath. Words failed her.

  Kenjan moved closer, to the edge of the black and red island. “Tell me what Oziru said.”

  “Oziru said that I shouldn’t bring any more letters from you.”

  “No! That is not true. Are you sure you gave the letter to Oziru? Did the Kishocha have big cranial tendrils?”

  “I know what Oziru looks like.”

  “Who else saw the letter?” Kenjan said. “Was Seigata present?”

  “Only Wave was there.”

  “No one else?”

  “Sudden Red Crush ate it,” Gaia said. “Does that count?”

  Kenjan clenched and unclenched its fists.

  Gaia sank down to the floor at the water’s edge. “You’ve got to start acting like you’re dead.”

  “Be silent!” Kenjan snapped.

  “You’re going to be exorcised if you don’t.” Gaia didn’t have the energy to be affronted by Kenjan’s imperiousness.

  “I will not bow down,” Kenjan bellowed. “You were the one who told me I was not really dead.”

  “Not by human standards. But you know damn well that the Kishocha expect you to act like a ghost.”

  “I do act like a ghost. I act like a vengeful and restless spirit. I will not let Oziru forget me.”

  Gaia had to admit she hadn’t thought of this—that Kenjan would be deliberately “haunting” Oziru. It made perfect sense, though. “If you don’t shut up, Seigata is going to exorcise you.”

  Kenjan’s muzzle curled into an animalistic snarl. “When did you begin to live in fear of Seigata, oh my beloved guardian?”

  “This afternoon when Seigata told me, straight out, that it was going to kill you if you didn’t stop singing.”

  “Why were you talking to Seigata at all?” Kenjan asked.

  “I was having a divination.” Gaia winced at the admission.

  “A divination? To see what? There is no point in a human having a Kishocha divination.” Kenjan began to pace. Its cranial tendrils lashed against one another. “There is no point in anyone having a divination from Seigata. The priest only knows how to repeat what it has been told. It has no vision.”

  “I had to think up a good reason to be there.”

  “So you chose divination?”

  “No, Wave did,” Gaia said. “I couldn’t think of anything.”

  “I see. And what did Seigata say about your place in the god’s great ocean?”

  “That isn’t relevant. What matters is that Seigata told me that your singing was disrupting everything on Ki Island and I should either stop you or take you away.”

  Kenjan stopped pacing. Its cranial tendrils hung limp. “Take me away?”

  “To Mars or Earth.”

  “Seigata asked you to take me from the waters?” Kenjan crouched down on the edge of its island.

  “I said it was impossible. But really, it’s not. You’re just lucky Seigata talked to me and not Blum.”

  “Oziru would never allow me to be removed from the range of its song,” Kenjan said. “No matter how melancholy I made Oziru, my beloved would not let me be taken away.”

  “I don’t know about that. I saw your old house.”

  Kenjan didn’t reply.

  “It’s falling down,” Gaia said. “Big blackened chunks of it are falling into the water.”

  “Do you enjoy tormenting me, Guardian?” Kenjan didn’t look at her.

  “And there was this new spire growing up right beside your old place. Oziru said it was the house of its new consort.”

  “There is no other on Ki Island who is of the blood,” Kenjan said.

  “Oziru said that the priests on your home world designated Seigata as Oziru’s new consort—”

  “Be silent!” Kenjan sprang to its feet. “I order you quiet!”

  “No,” Gaia shouted back. “I order you quiet. Stop singing. Stop trying to get Oziru’s attention. It�
��s over between you two.”

  “I will never believe that. Our love is stronger than the bonds of death. I will never let go.” Kenjan started to steam. Gaia bolted to her feet.

  “Stop that right now. If you steam, I’m leaving.”

  “Then leave, revolting Guardian,” Kenjan spat. “You do not serve me.”

  “No, I don’t,” Gaia coughed. The chemical reek tickled the back of her throat. “I protect you—even from your own stupid ideas. If you sing tonight it will prove that Seigata is right and you need to be killed. Do you have a death wish? Would you rather be eaten and shit out by cleaners than stay quiet for just one night? What is wrong with you?”

  “I am lonely,” Kenjan bellowed back at her. “I want to be with my beloved.”

  Gaia retreated to the back wall, next to her bedroom door. The fumes hadn’t permeated the air there yet.

  “You would not understand,” Kenjan said. “You are always alone. You cannot feel how I feel.”

  “Maybe I can’t understand how you feel, but that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.” Gaia hefted her rebreather.

  “Sound travels vast distances in water. I can hear Oziru, and Oziru hears me. Our voices can entwine in harmony. Even if our bodies may never again touch. It brings me momentary comfort in my isolation. Do you think I could bear to hear Oziru’s love song mingling with Seigata’s? Do you think I could live through the torture of hearing the tiny voices of their progeny learning to sing?”

  “It’s not worth dying over.”

  “I am already dead,” Kenjan said. “Everything else is just the wait before oblivion.”

  Gaia’s thought’s spiraled down to a dark dead-end. Kenjan was going to sing. There was no stopping it. The alien didn’t care about itself, her, Wave or anything else. A warm ball of red anger spun deep in her chest.

  “You self-pitying bastard,” Gaia said. “Go ahead and die. You obviously want to.”

  “You still cannot accept that I am already dead, deluded Guardian.”

  Gaia groaned. “I’m so tired of talking about you. I have a life too.”

  Kenjan cocked its head. Its cranial tendrils perked a little at the ends.

  “So you do,” Kenjan said. “When I am exorcised you will be able to continue your life.”

  “When you are dead, I won’t have the life I want. Everything I have is dependent on you being here. I want to see more. I want to dive Ki Island. My hope is tied up in you, you suicidal jerk.”

  “I am sorry I am not a better master.”

  “You could be. All you have to do is shut up.”

  “That is all I had to do to not be killed at all, and look where I am now,” Kenjan said.

  Gaia had to admit that this was, in fact, true. Annoying, but true. “So what you’re saying is that you can’t learn? Wave can learn things, but you can’t. Are you sure you’re the one who’s superior?”

  “I will never learn to be compliant.”

  “Please, Kenjan.” She heard her voice almost begging. “Please. All I’m asking for is one night. I’m not asking you to change who you are. Sing like hell tomorrow night. Just don’t sing tonight. I promised Seigata I could get you to be quiet. Let me keep my word.”

  Kenjan ran its fingertips across the water’s surface.

  “Well?” Gaia held her breath.

  “Very well, I will not sing for one night, but do not make a promise like that again. I will not continuously sacrifice my integrity for yours.”

  Gaia sagged in relief. “Thank you very much. It means a lot to me.”

  “I see that. But now you also know that singing with Oziru means everything to me?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Then we will not argue this matter again?”

  Gaia shook her head. This was all such a waste. “After tonight, you can sing your way to oblivion.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three: Today’s Entrepreneurial Woman

  Gaia collapsed onto her bed. She mashed her face into her dry, soft pillow. Her cool, dark bedroom provided an octopi-free safe zone. After a rest, she’d call Fitzpatrick and ask him to help her find Kenjan’s things.

  She closed her eyes, but didn’t sleep. Her eyeballs rolled beneath her lids. Something was bothering her. She checked her alarm.

  Was she late for something? She couldn’t be. She didn’t have any plans. Her stomach fluttered nervously. Her eyes popped open. She’d forgotten to place the fresh-produce order, and Happy Snak was going to run out of cherry tomatoes, not to mention lettuce. And she hadn’t placed the meat order either.

  The protein lab was closed to orders for the night, but produce could still be procured. She dialed up the arboretum and was informed that Cheryl had already ordered the cherry tomatoes, along with everything else that Happy Snak needed.

  Gaia lay back down, relieved at the averted tomato crisis, but annoyed that Cheryl had done her job so efficiently. Gaia pulled her blanket up over her eyes. Worthlessness washed over her. She’d failed to complete any of her specified duties today. The only actions she’d accomplished were delivering a forbidden letter and incurring the wrath of a flying omnipotent god-king.

  World: one. Gaia: zero.

  She curled up tighter in her blankets and dragged a pillow over her face. If she could sleep, she’d regain confidence. Anxiety gnawed at her.

  She was hungry and thirsty, and her bladder was uncomfortably full. She might as well just get up. After a trip to the bathroom, Gaia dug through her snack stash. She found a warm box of PowerWoman!! brand athletic nutritional drink and a mostly full carton of chocolate-covered fortune cookies. Armed with these supplies, Gaia queued up her message center.

  Fitzpatrick had left a message asking her about her day. Gaia jabbed the erase button. Then the arboretum called asking about the produce order. This message was followed by another from the arboretum confirming Cheryl’s online order and saying that they’d have to substitute yellow cherry tomatoes for red, since red was temporarily out of stock.

  Gaia’s mother had called to effuse about the style and popularity of the alien jewelry that she’d just received. She chided Gaia for calling the necklaces “pieces of shit” then talked for five solid, enthusiastic minutes about her marketing plans.

  New Earthling, an Earth-based talk show, requested an interview with Wave Walker. Gaia saved the contact number.

  Fitzpatrick called again to request that she refrain from doing media interviews without first talking to the embassy liaison and asking her to instruct Wave Walker against them as well.

  What was he? Psychic?

  Fitzpatrick also wanted to hear from her at her first convenience. Gaia bit into a cookie. It wasn’t convenient yet. The next five messages were all wordless disconnects from Fitzpatrick.

  Finally, the Frymaster Corporation sent a text message to say that her replacement parts had been shipped, along with interactive instructional media that explained how the new valves were to be installed. The valves were under warranty only if a certified technician performed the installation. The company regretted deeply that they were not able to send an authorized technician to her service area. Frymaster Corporation encouraged her to take their online test and become a certified Frymaster technician herself. Gaia demurred.

  Messages accomplished, she went rifling through her drawer for the pit guard. It lay next to some Sparkle Lady barrettes, and gave off a faint, bacon-like smell.

  Gaia donned a clean Happy Snak smock and dropped the pit guard into her pocket. Should she talk to Wave? Wave had been upset by the day’s events, although Gaia didn’t know exactly what part of the day had distressed it. Was it Oziru’s callousness toward Kenjan’s letter? She supposed she’d saunter by Wave’s door and see if the Kishocha emerged. Gaia walked to her door, slid it open and jumped back with a startled yelp. Fitzpatrick was right there sitting on a plastic chair, looking drowsy.

  “Glad you’re back safe at last, Ms. Jones.” He flipped open his case of cigarette gum.

  Happy Snak was d
ark and quiet.

  “It’s the middle of the night.” Gaia didn’t bother to ask how he got in. “What are you doing here? Did Cheryl let you stay in here?”

  Fitzpatrick raised an eyebrow. “She and I fed the ghost together. After that I decided to wait for you, but it seemed inappropriate to hang around in your bedroom, so I’ve just been here.”

  “Come in then.” Gaia stepped aside.

  Fitzpatrick seated himself in Gaia’s only chair.

  Gaia rubbed her face. “I figured out that gravity-failure problem everybody’s been talking about.”

  “And?” Fitzpatrick leaned toward her.

  “Oziru was just depressed and didn’t feel like gravitizing the place, so it didn’t.”

  “I don’t follow you,” Fitzpatrick said.

  “Oziru makes the gravity work by singing or dancing or something.”

  “Is that what Wave told you?”

  “No, I saw it happening.”

  Fitzpatrick toyed with his cigarette gum case. “You should tell me everything that happened.”

  She gave a brief outline of events beginning with the letter and ending with Kenjan’s bleak announcement. Fitzpatrick listened seriously, only taking out his hand-held once to make a call about Kenjan’s missing possessions. Apparently the entire floor of the previous Happy Snak had been sectioned and given to the station’s exobiology department for further study. No one was at the lab, but Fitzpatrick described the missing articles and politely requested that they be returned. Easy as that.

  Watching him calmly and expediently solve her problem, Gaia felt the strong urge to fling herself into Fitzpatrick’s arms. She resisted, though, as fatigue had clearly made her sentimental. A man being able to competently complete a phone call didn’t make him Prince Charming.

  He disconnected. “Do you feel safer now?”

  “I guess—I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. Once Oziru gets remarried, I think Kenjan’s going to kill itself anyway. I don’t know what’s going to happen then. Maybe we’ll all have to leave.”

  “These are some very worrisome statements,” Fitzpatrick said.