Happy Snak

by Nicole Kimberling

  “I’ll call right away.” Wave started for the phone.

  “Wait.” Gaia grabbed Wave’s arm. “Say we put them in an aquarium and sprinkle food on top every day like they were goldfish or something. What are we going to do when they grow? What are we going to say?”

  “I will claim them as mine,” Wave said. “I am Kenjan’s sibling. No one will have knowledge of it.”

  “I thought you needed permission to make pogs.”

  “You are my master. Give me permission.”

  “This is insane.”

  “No one ever has to know of Sharkey’s crime. And I can live happily, no longer in slavery. Please do this one thing for me. I beg you.”

  Gaia rubbed her eyes. This plan was ludicrous, but she couldn’t think of a better one. She loved Wave and Wave loved Sharkey. Even though she hated Sharkey, she owed it to Wave to keep Sharkey alive.

  Wave bounced up to its feet. “Gaia, we must move quickly.”

  “Why?”

  “Because the pogs are being born now.” Wave indicated the surveillance screen. Kenjan was alone in the shrine, hunched over on its island convulsing. A long red strand of flesh squeezed out of Kenjan’s pit. The pulpy tube was, indeed, about the size of a Cajun chicken sandwich. Kenjan pushed out three more tubes, along with a massive extrusion of thick mucous that enveloped the four pog pods in gelatinous fluid. Kenjan curled around them. Wave shook its head. “Kenjan is willing them to die.”

  “What?”

  “The pogs must be into water within the hour, or they will die.”

  “Maybe,” Gaia ventured slowly, “maybe that would be for the best.”

  “No, I have decided. They will live and be mine.”

  “If they die, we don’t have to do any of this. And it’s what Kenjan expects to happen anyway.” Hope glimmered within her. Maybe everything could go back to the way it had been before she’d known how humanly sordid the Kishocha were.

  “I want nothing more to die,” Wave said.

  “Not even Seigata?” Gaia asked.

  “Not even that one. Dying must stop before life can resume. It is not for me to judge Seigata. It is for the god’s consideration.”

  She took a deep breath. “Okay… We’ll…find some way to raise pogs in an aquarium. What should I do with this?” Gaia held up the pit guard. “Seigata wants me to return it.”

  “Then return it. And this ripple will go unnoticed. Now we must enter the shrine to get the pogs.”

  Gaia held her head, pressing both hands hard against her cranium as if her skull would burst without constant pressure. If she’d actually believed in the god, or any god, the injustice of this situation wouldn’t bother her so much. Could she live with this?

  If she gave Seigata the pit guard back and erased forever the evidence of the alien’s deceit, Seigata would become Oziru’s consort. Gaia would have to allow Kenjan to be exorcised eventually, but that’s what Kenjan wanted. Life would go on as usual. Wave would have pogs, and there would be trouble, but not much and not for long. Sharkey would claim to be the proud coparent. Happy Snak would prosper. Fresh Peace Corps workers would replace Roy and Cheryl. Maybe she’d start seriously dating Fitzpatrick. Maybe they’d even love each other.

  Gaia knew that this plan wouldn’t play out the way Wave wanted. She could recognize impossible fantasy when it so blatantly presented itself. Failure was highly probable if she acted on Wave’s instructions, yet if she did nothing failure was certain.

  “Please go into the shrine and collect the pogs,” Wave said. “Please let me have this my way.”

  “Why don’t you go get them?”

  “I am not the guardian. Kenjan will not obey me.”

  They’d need something to put them in until the aquarium arrived. The big stainless steel prep sink would have to do. And she’d also need something to carry the pogs in.

  “I’m going to get a bus tub,” Gaia said.

  “I will call for the aquarium.”

  Gaia slipped into the backroom and grabbed the tub, leaving the door open. She feared the pogs would be heavy and awkward, and she didn’t want to drop them.

  Chapter Twenty-Six: The Truth

  The shrine door opened. An odd musty smell drifted into her bedroom, mingling with the acid distress that already permeated the air. Microbe burrowed furiously into his pile of dank wood chips. Gaia’s hands ached badly, especially at the wrists.

  “Kenjan!” Gaia called across the water. The Kishocha gave no response. It lay, hunched around the gelatinous mass. Gaia didn’t know if the alien was trying to hide or cradle the egg sacs. “Kenjan, come on, talk to me. Don’t make me swim out to the ghost island.”

  “Leave me.” Kenjan’s voice was nothing but a growl. “I feel sick.”

  “All I want to do is get the pogs into some water.”

  Kenjan’s head rose slightly. “I knew that you were spying on me. I heard the camera lens moving.”

  “No you didn’t,” Gaia said. “It’s sound-proofed.”

  “To you, maybe. To Kishocha ears it hums.”

  “I worried that you weren’t all right.”

  “Well, now you know that I am not all right.” Kenjan lay its muzzle down. “Do you feel satisfied to see me humiliated?”

  “I don’t want your pogs to die,” Gaia said. Wave hung back, just inside the bedroom door. “Wave is going to take care of them.”

  “No need. They will die. Wave knows this. They might as well die quickly, before they begin to move.”

  “Maybe this time they’ll live.”

  “They always die. I should just crush them now.” Kenjan’s voice was barely audible.

  “No!” Wave cried. “Please Kenjan. Do not!”

  There was no getting around it. Gaia dived into the water. Her legs felt unusually heavy. She reached Kenjan’s side quickly and pulled herself up on the scaly surface of the ghost island. She sat there and dripped.

  Kenjan seemed haggard. Its throat was still bare, and its pit was swollen and distended. Kenjan’s usually massive chest looked sunken.

  “Hey, Kenjan.”

  “Go from me, I beg you,” Kenjan said.

  Gaia ignored Kenjan, instead focusing on the pog pods. They looked like any other kind of large egg sac. A fine webbing of veins covered the outer skin of each one. They pulsed as blood pumped through them.

  “These look pretty lively.”

  Kenjan looked at her sideways. “How would you know?”

  Gaia’s eyes narrowed. But she said nothing.

  “Do you see that larger one?” Kenjan asked. “It is a noble flyer. If it were to live, it would resemble Oziru.”

  “Then we should really get them in the water.”

  “They will blacken. Truly, it does not matter.”

  Gaia tapped her fingers on a glossy, black rock. Already Wave’s plan was going awry. No one who understood anything about genetics would ever believe that an orphan-servant and a soldier would spawn a flyer. She stared hard across the water at Wave’s averted face. She wished that she could mentally force Wave to meet her gaze and admit that this surrogate-parent idea was absurd.

  “Do not look hatred at Wave, my guardian,” Kenjan said. “The servant means well, but it is impossible, in any way.”

  “It is not impossible!” Wave shouted striding forward. “Why give up when the god has blessed you after death with offspring?”

  “I think that the god has fun inventing new ways to punish me.” Kenjan’s usually resonant voice turned dull and husky.

  “Kenjan—” Gaia was cut off by the Kishocha waterway door flexing open. Gaia flipped the bus tub over the pog pods.

  Seigata glided through the door, flanked by six guards. It saw Gaia and shuddered as if repressing a violent urge at seeing her exactly where she wasn’t supposed to be.

  “Gaia Jones.” Seigata said her name as if it was an indictment.

  “Noble Seigata,” Gaia said. “I’ll be right there.”

  “I was wondering
did you forget our agreement?” Seigata asked.

  “Not at all. I’ll be right there.” Gaia swam back. She wrung out her pant legs. Seigata ignored her, its attention fixed on Kenjan.

  “You look ill, Ghost,” Seigata called.

  “I am dead. How do you expect me to look?” Kenjan leaned over the inverted bus tub and casually draped a hand over its own pit.

  “For being so noisy, I did not expect you to look so frail,” Seigata remarked.

  Kenjan said, “My voice is fine. Never fear.”

  “Do you smell something?” Seigata snapped around to face Gaia.

  “Chicken, I think,” Gaia said. “Or cheese sticks. Have you ever had cheese sticks?”

  “It is the smell of pogs.” Seigata folded its hands. “What lowly creature has committed blasphemy with you, Ghost?”

  “No one,” Kenjan said. “I have only been, in the words of my guardian soldier, prodding my throat like an ugly.”

  “Liar.”

  “I do not lie, Most Holy Seigata. I have, indeed, become ugly. I am almost as ugly as you now.”

  “Are the pogs hidden under the gray shell, Guardian?” Seigata pointed to the inverted bus tub.

  “What’s a pog?” Gaia said. If she was going to play dumb, she might as well play really dumb.

  “What is under that gray shell?”

  Gaia jammed her hand in her pocket. “I’ve got the necklace right here. I guess you can take it.” Gaia thrust the pit guard at Seigata. The alien swatted her hand away. The guard flew across the room.

  Seigata clamped its hand around Gaia’s throat. “You will bring me the pogs. Do you understand?”

  Gaia couldn’t breathe, she nodded. Seigata dropped her and she fell weakly to the floor. Wave darted out and grabbed the pit guard. It held the guard aloft.

  “If you touch Gaia Jones one more time, I will take this to Oziru, telling the noble lord that you are the one who kills the most beautiful Kenjan with poison!” Wave shook all over. “You are the bad one!”

  “What did you say, Wave?” Kenjan dived into the water.

  Seigata turned to the Kishocha-side door. “Lock.” The door flexed decisively closed. From beneath its garment, the alien drew a slim vial. Then to its guards Seigata said, “Kill that one.” Seigata pointed to Wave.

  The guards rushed forward. Wave darted back into Gaia’s room.

  “Wave!” Gaia tried to lunge after Wave, but Seigata slammed its fist into her back. She hit the floor. Sounds of fighting erupted from Gaia’s room. Screaming and roaring curses. Gaia couldn’t pull her eyes away from the vial. The way Seigata held it—gingerly, yet purposefully—did not give her a good feeling about its contents.

  Kenjan broke the surface of the water feet from them. It pulled itself up on the ledge and stood, steaming just inside the calligraphy line. “How could you do it? We are siblings.”

  “I had a vision of the god. I acted according to the instructions I was given.”

  “Murderer!” Kenjan bellowed. “Mate-stealing murderer.”

  “I am a vessel of the god’s will. It was not the god’s will that Oziru should be burdened with a heretic for all time—no matter how lascivious the heretic should be.”

  Kenjan’s muzzle curled up in a smirk. “You are just jealous. And frigid.”

  “And you are a faithless servant-fucker. Tell me who pierced you or I will blacken your waters with this poison.”

  “It was the god, giving me the gift of children in my death-exile,” Kenjan said.

  A last shout burst from Gaia’s room. Sharkey stepped into the shrine. Blood streaked the soldier’s body. Sharkey’s spear dripped.

  “Wave—” Gaia whispered.

  “I am here.” Wave stepped from behind Sharkey. Blood spattered Wave’s white skin. Seigata looked irritated.

  “Sharkey, you are meant to kill this orphan-servant.” Seigata spoke as if repeating instructions to a moronic child.

  “I apologize, but I cannot,” Sharkey said. “I cannot kill Wave.”

  “For disobedience, I will skin you and feed you to the fish.”

  “I understand.”

  “Worthless animal,” Seigata said. “Go await your fate in my chamber.”

  Sharkey started obediently toward the Kishocha-side door.

  “No!” Wave clung to Sharkey’s arm.

  Kenjan said, “Do you really want to know who pierced me?”

  “This worthless guard?” Seigata gestured toward Sharkey.

  “Oziru. Even dead, I am better than you.”

  “Lying ghost!”

  “Better than a murderer.” Kenjan lunged forward.

  Seigata raised up the vial of poison to smash against Kenjan’s head. Gaia shoved all her weight against Seigata. Thick fluid spilled out over Gaia’s forearms. Searing pain rushed through her. There was a flash. Metal sliced the air. Kenjan held Sharkey’s spear to Seigata’s throat.

  “No wedding for you.” Kenjan plunged the spear into Seigata’s throat. Gaia choked on burning acidic air. She felt her throat closing. Grayness tinged the edges of her vision. She could no longer hear. Geometric patterns danced in front of her eyes. Was she dying?

  It was okay. Wave had tried to save her. Sharkey had tried to save Wave. She had tried to save Kenjan. Kenjan tried to kill Seigata. As far as she could tell they’d mostly been successful.

  She’d seen things no other human had seen.

  She’d done her best.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven: Struggling Free

  Every night when Gaia fell asleep there was a blurry point when her rational thoughts flowed freely into the calming, timeless world of dreams. If, during this process, she noticed herself dreaming, she would wake up. Dreamtime was a state she could only enter without lucidity.

  Not now.

  She knew she hadn’t been awake for a long time.

  Her mind was less quiet than it had ever been. Visions of engulfing flames twisted through her. Hot, dank sheets twisted around her. She tried to scream and got doused in water. She floated along in Oziru’s garden in the deep, red Kishocha sea. Wave beckoned her to unfurl her gills and she did, swimming alongside Wave as easily as a fish.

  She woke up in the hospital. How much time had passed? Why could she hear Kenjan talking?

  “My divine Lord Oziru would be displeased if Gaia Jones was not healthy by the time that our pogs struggle free.”

  Gaia pulled her eyes open. Kenjan stood in the hallway outside, talking to a medic. Kenjan was wearing the same golden couture it had worn in the informational video she’d seen. That had been so long ago. She felt like she’d been a different person then. She knew Kenjan had been a different person than the morose singing ghost it was now.

  Why was Kenjan out of its shrine? Where was Wave? Where were the guards? Maybe this was another dream.

  “Yes, I understand that, Mr. Kenjan,” the medic said. “We’re doing our best.”

  Gaia’s eyes rolled up into her head. She felt bleary and drugged.

  “Do you know she is a demon slayer?” Kenjan asked.

  “So you’ve told me,” the medic said.

  “With hands already scarred with acid from my own passage into the Sea of Death, she destroyed the demon who took my soul. She must be present for the birth.”

  “Be that as it may—” the medic began.

  “Can you not use the shocking machine to wake her up?” Kenjan asked. “It is often done in the media. Before applying the paddles, you must yell, ‘Clear!’ That is all.”

  “Don’t touch that.” The medic moved to intercept the alien.

  Fear lurched inside of Gaia. She tried to open up her mouth to tell Kenjan she was already awake, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t even keep her eyes open.

  The next time she opened her eyes, the room was dim and quiet. Gaia felt better. Although her back was very stiff, she thought she might be able to sit up. Feebly, she tried to rise. She failed.

  The third time Gaia woke, a chime sounded. A soothing
digital voice intoned, “Gaia Jones, you are in the Medical Center of A-Ki Station. You’ve had an injury. Please don’t try and get up without assistance. A medic has been alerted.”

  Two chimes sounded, then the recording continued, “Ms. Jones, due to heavy patient volume, all personnel are currently engaged. Please wait, and the first available medic will be with you shortly.”

  Gaia waited a couple of minutes then considered attempting to rise unaided. The recording seemed to know this. “We appreciate your patience and cooperation. It will only be a little while longer. If you—”

  A medic arrived and deactivated the recording. “Hello, Ms. Jones. Do you know where you are?”

  “The hospital on A-Ki Station.” Gaia looked down. Tubes and wires exploded from her inner elbows, like the intestines of eviscerated machines. Her hands were bandaged again.

  “Do you know why you’re here?”

  “I was poisoned, I think. How long have I been here?”

  “You’ve been here for six weeks,” the medic said.

  “Six weeks?” Gaia tried to sit up again. Her stomach hurt like hell. “Who’s taking care of the snack bar?”

  “Please don’t try to get up. The doctor is on her way.” The medic busied himself checking the tubes and wires. “Mr. Kenjan has also been alerted, as per Oziru’s instructions. If you don’t want to see any visitors, we can keep the alien outside.”

  “It doesn’t bother me.” Gaia’s arms looked pale and scrawny. Just above the bandages, she could see the tops of her guardian tattoos. She took a deep breath and tried to wiggle her fingers. She saw the bandages move and grinned. She could move her fingers. Her wrists didn’t hurt at all. She could feel her fingers moving against each other.

  She hadn’t undergone another hand-replacement surgery. Gaia frowned. “Why are my hands bandaged?”

  “There is some scarring from the poison that was used.”

  “Can I see them?”

  “Certainly.” The medic retrieved a pair of scissors. “The scars are pretty unusual.”

  “How?” Gaia asked. The medic pulled away a layer of bandage. Her palms looked like they’d been submerged in grape juice for six weeks. Purple streaks ran across the delicate skin atop her hands. She could see where the poison had dripped, carving tiny furrows. They looked almost like Kishocha letters. Gaia clenched her hands. She seemed to be able to feel things. Most of her fingers and fingertips were unmarked.