It crashed down around the shardon, water spraying up as more coils surfaced. Nerida choked as a wide wedge-shaped head broke the surface. Several horns and large webbed fins pushed out from the back of its skull as a fang-filled mouth descended over the back of the shardon seconds before the entire mass rolled once more beneath the waves.
Nerida stared at the spot, her heart hammering at the confirmation of the existence of the legendary dathli sea serpents. A shudder ran through her as she backed away from the railing. When it did not emerge again, she turned on her heel and rushed back to steerage. She was determined to move on before she supervised the processing and storage of the fish.
Fuck hanging around where giant sea serpents were eating. That could take out her half her boat with one bite!
Hands trembling, Nerida turned the wheel and put the boat into forward gear. She needed to find an island anchorage—quick. Not only for sake of wintering now. She didn’t want to spend any more time than necessary occupying the same space as sea serpents. Those things didn’t come anywhere near the shallower surrounding water of an island’s littoral zones, if lore held true.
Nerida dreaded what other old tales would prove to be true living upon the Greater Sea.
Chapter 4
Commander Ji’wa Me’tilikaran of the Li’lal’fa pod stared out the viewing screen. His hands, clasped tightly behind him, betrayed his apprehension as he stood at the holographic display listening attentively to the medic as he gave him more bad news. His heart grew heavier as the medic spoke, blunting the hope that had blossomed when he got word that their ship had moved into an unexplored quadrant of space.
After five generations of searching for a habitable world, the morale of those on board was grim. Their ship held the remnants of their civilization. No more than one million descendants remained of the nine million who had survived the extinction event on their homeworld Sirenx. Although ocean and stone were imbedded within their culture as symbols of life to their species, no one on board had ever seen the wide crystalline green seas of their world, nor the rocky islands that once dotted the planet.
Perhaps after so long, it was natural the ennui had set in.
The sirei had been abandoned in the cosmos for far too long, each generation after the next searching for a suitable world without success. Although their forefathers had built the spherical ship to endure a long flight, no one could have guessed that they would have been in space so long. All the logs of the scientists who worked on the project had been saved and carefully reviewed. Everyone had assumed that they would find some kind of suitable watery planet within the first generation, or the second at latest. The scientists had been optimistic about several planets in neighboring star systems.
Therefore, while the ship had been designed to serve every amenity necessary to their species’ health, comfort, and recreation, it had been designed with the expectation of only being necessary for a limited time. Operating as a starship was only one of its functions. The majority of its primary functions were still in stasis, awaiting landing. Its true purpose was as a colonizer. Theoretically, when engaged for colonization, the sphere would break apart before entering the planetary atmosphere to spread out to different parts of the world, where the colonizer pod vessel would lock onto sea beds at habitable depths.
The problem arose when it became apparent that no one had realized just how far apart habitable planets were, and most of them unsuited to the needs of the sirei, who required large bodies of water and access to land. The second generation had been optimistic. The third generation had remained hopeful though skeptical. The fourth generation adopted a grim resignation, but the fifth generation had fallen into complete despondency.
Now parts of the ship were closed off due to lack of crewmembers, and the population was showing an alarming decline in births. At their current rate, generation six had fewer than half as many births. Many adults weren’t forming mating bonds, and those who were attempting to mate were experiencing fertility issues for reasons their scientists couldn’t determine. There was technically nothing wrong with their adult members. They should have been able to reproduce… They were just failing to do so. The fact that their breeding had to be triggered by specific mating sequences also meant that fertilization was impossible when attempted artificially.
Command did not want to see the end, to acknowledge their decline, but that did not stop it, and the rampant exhaustion as a species reflected its devastating effects. The hydration baths found throughout the ship were too often filled to maximum capacity, whereas most social and education venues were sparsely occupied. That was a huge concern to the medical teams. It indicated that their population was steadily slipping into depression and retreating into the therapeutic waters as a method of escape.
The unique baths served as necessary mental and physical therapy for their sea-dwelling species. They were constructed with the intent of regular use to keep their bodies hydrated and to provide much-needed minerals to enter their blood system, yet they were never intended to be used for great lengths of time. It wasn’t healthy for their species to be submerged at all times.
But the High Council regulated the use of the baths and enforced productivity. By law, no sirein could be denied access to them at any time for any reason. At this rate, however, it wouldn’t be long before they exhausted their reserves, and the baths dried up.
When that happened, it would be a matter of a week, maybe two, before their people would start dying en masse.
Command was certain they would find something soon. Ji’wa wasn’t sure if it was delusion or desperation speaking. They were wrestling with the reality that they had to find something, because not finding it was unthinkable. So they carried on as if everything was normal. Ji’wa did not know how the other commanders were dealing with the burden of responsibility, but it weighed upon him. He took no pleasure in his daily tasks that offered no hope, reminding him every day of the sirei’s slide into death.
He frowned at the medical data scrolling by on the holographic screen, one hand cupping his cheek thoughtfully. The fin at the end of his tail threatened to unfold in his agitation, but with the restraint of a lifetime of discipline, he kept it shut and flattened to a tapered tip off the end of his long tail.
“Are you sure this is right?” he asked the pod’s lead medic as he battled a wave of anxiety.
“They are correct,” En’il said with a weary sigh. “Our pod is now out of the bath’s nutrients and low on water. Ji’wa’sa, if we don’t find a planet within the next few rotations, we are going to lose our people.”
“What if we attempted to gather supplies from the other pods…”
“‘Sa, no one has any to spare. All of the pods will be out in a matter of days.”
En’il bowed his horned head with respect, but also with a finality that sent Ji’wa’s heart plummeting. He dismissed the hologram screen and closed his eyes. Groaning, he turned his head and opened his eyes to look upon the ancestral shrine that sat against one wall of his office. He imagined that he could feel their disapproval and sorrow that everything had been for naught. Shaking his head, he came back to himself, aware that the medic was still awaiting orders.
“This is it, then,” he said quietly. “The twilight hour of the Li’lal’fa has come. I will speak to High Command and let them know that we are sealing our pod. If the others are ahead of us by a matter of rotations, they may last long enough to find a world. I need you to give medical clearance for a state of emergency to do so.”
What went unsaid between them was that it would only do so because the sealed pod would prevent anyone from leaving and rioting in the other sectors of the ship.
“It will be done, ‘Sa,” En’il said formally as the holographic connection winked out.
His people would die, and the rest of the pods would continue for as long as they could.
Departing his quarters, Ji’wa hurried down the long corridor, his tail snapping behind him as he took the
elevation tube up to the top decks and strode through the upper halls to the fore-station command center at the top of the ship.
Entering the room, Ji’wa drew up short. The command crew was attending to their usual tasks, but High Commander E’heem had all the pod commanders clustered around him and was speaking with them in a low voice. Noting his arrival, the High Commander looked up and smiled.
“Ji’wa, excellent timing! We’ve been having a difficult time getting through to the Li’lal’fa pod.”
Ji’wa cleared his throat, drawing his long tail around his ankles in a show of respect. “I apologize that I did not receive your summons. As it happens, the Li’lal’fa pod is the reason for my presence. I must sadly report that, in light of water shortage and that our nutrient supply is exhausted, we will be sealing the pod.”
E’heem sighed and rubbed his brow just below the base of his black horns. When he glanced up, his eyes were beyond weary. “We can only hope then that the probes brought back accurate information.”
“‘Sa?” Ji’wa inquired softly, not daring to hope.
The commander of the Si’moor’da pod grinned as he cut into the conversation. “The probes have brought back visuals of a blue planet. There are signs of sentient life, but they seem largely clustered near the sole large land mass. Although the waters are a peculiar hue of blue rather than green, the nutrient levels are right. We may have found New Sirenx!”
“We mustn’t get ahead of ourselves.” E’heem sighed. “There are still many tests that need to be run, and we have to establish the threat of the sentient native species already dwelling there. We cannot force them from their homes.”
“‘Sa, we cannot afford to wait,” another commander objected harshly. He gestured at Ji’wa in emphasis. “We have one pod close to being lost to us, and another twenty pods that will follow soon. In my pod alone, there are four females who are close to bearing. We don’t have enough bath nutrients to provide an optimal birthing area for them. We have to take our chances. We must activate the colonizer!”
The other commanders mumbled their agreements, and Ji’wa had to agree with them. With his own pod being sealed, activating the colonization sequence was his people’s only chance for survival.
“Every one of my people would take their chances in the waters of another world,” he conceded as he caught the High Commander’s eye and held it for a moment. “We have no other choice if we wish to live.”
E’heem looked from one commander to another, males and females standing at attention to obey whatever order was finally decreed, and he inclined his head. “Very well. With the majority in agreement, we will initiate.”
Turning away, he strode through the command station, the fin at the end of his tail fanning out and snapping closed in time with his steps. Taking the central podium, he stood among the crew, each of whom turned to show respect.
“Initiate colonization sequence New Sirenx, approval code High Commander E’heem’isha’val’zorn.”
The crew turned in their suspension domes that linked their brainwaves individually with the complex systems of each pod, and with quick fingers, they carried out his orders. One dome turned, and the crewmember hooked into it looked at them with vacant eyes, her voice coming through the systems from the dome.
“Colonization sequence initiated. All crew members must return to their colony pods and prepare for imminent impact.”
Ji’wa didn’t wait for further orders. A glimmer of excitement bloomed in his breast as he spun on his heel and rushed from the fore-station. Running at full speed, he tore through the halls, abandoning all etiquette and decorum. A loud siren was going off overhead, and he had no doubt that everyone was going to be confused. He had to get to the pod’s sector guards and begin the lockdown process to prepare for entry.
A wide smile broke over his face.
His people would have a chance to survive. There would be opportunities for true, traditional matings in the wide seas, and young would be born and cared for among the rocks.
Water and stone… The time had come.
He only prayed to their ancestral gods that it did not disappoint.
Chapter 5
Nerida used the edge of her knife to force open the oyster shell, her belly knotting with hunger as she salivated. She rarely found something meaty when she scavenged with her bucket. She was just lucky that she had found the small island pushing out from the water. It was little more than a rocky outcropping with a short sandbar, roughly ten meters long by eight meters at its widest point. Although she had drawn up to the island with the intent of killing one of the great horned lalorths that were sunbathing on the rocks, they had slipped into the water before she could do more than graze one with harpoon gun.
That might have been a mercy since they had six large tusks with which they could have easily gored her for daring to hunt them on her own. Instead, they had given deep, nasal bellows before they shimmied from the rocks. That alone never ceased to amaze her. Despite the girth of their deep gray bodies and their huge heads with their long fleshy noses, and their eight webbed legs, they moved with surprising speed. She was forced to watch as their finned double tails propelled them to safely, leaving Nerida warming the air with her curses.
It was just her damned luck that instead of dragging a lalorth onto her ship in preparation for a feast, she was hunched over the rocks shivering as she attempted to shuck the stubborn oyster, her stomach cramping with hunger. It was made worse by the fact that she hadn’t found another decent catch of fish due to the storms that had finally descended over the Greater Sea, tossing her boat helplessly along the waves. Although it made fishing difficult, she was grateful that the boat hadn’t capsized. She was mercifully still alive.
It was worth suffering a little hunger when put in that perspective. Yet despite knowing that she was fortunate to have survived, delivered by Thetis, mother of the seas, gratitude was hard to remember when the sun beat down despite the cold breezes whipping all around her.
She didn’t feel lucky that winter was nearing and she still hadn’t found a safe anchorage, nor that she was forced to dig through the sand, looking for oysters with half-numb fingers. Hours of work, scouring the short sandbar and rocky tidepools, for the meager few she had found. Even though she was dismayed that it wasn’t nearly enough, with her hunger, it was practically a feast. She couldn’t wait to extract the salty meat right out of the shell… if only she could get the damned thing open.
“Fuck! Come on, damn you! Open!” she snarled at it.
She shouted with triumph when at last it pried open, revealing the rather disgusting-looking glob of flesh within. Her stomach grumbled as she loosened it with her knife. Eager to satisfy her hunger, she put it to her lips, tilted her head back, and swallowed it down. The texture was disgusting, and the salty taste made her eyes cross as she shuddered, but it felt good to have something substantial in her belly. It hardly satisfied her, but at least it was something.
Dipping her hand in her bucket, she pulled out the next one. She was just beginning to pry it open when a bright light caught her attention from overhead. She lowered the oyster to her lap and frowned at the light. Was it a patrol from the land bases? They shouldn’t be out so far. She had never heard of a patrol going over the Greater Sea. They rarely went any further than to the floating cities to collect taxes, acquire goods for the mainland, and search for any sign of rising insurrections.
She squinted at the fiery blob shooting through the sky. It didn’t look like a patrol flyer. It was larger and glowing red-hot as it descended through the skies at a sharp angle. The shape was also strange. Although it had a pointed nose like most vessels, the body was round like a teardrop.
The air around her roared as it flew past the island and disappeared over the edge of the horizon. In the distance, she watched as an enormous plume of water sprayed up, shooting into the air with the velocity of its impact. Alarmed, she dumped her oyster back into her bucket and clutched the handle as s
he scrambled off the beach into the safety of her boat.
Ducking into the cabin, she shouted as she dropped down into the chair and secured herself into it even as she curled around her bucket, clinging to the cold metal as if her life depended on it. When the enormous wave hit her boat, it was worse than any storm she had yet encountered. It crashed against the side of the vessel with a loud roar like a shout from some angry deity from the depths.
The boat protested with loud groans as it rose and plummeted, water crashing all around her boat. As she expected, water sprayed inside the cabin, but with minimal force compared to what struck the outer walls. Still, she screamed as the icy water hit her back and stung, though her cries were drowned out even to her own ears. Even when the water finally ceased spraying inside of her shelter, she still clung to the stupid bucket for several minutes, unable to loosen her grip as her heart threatened to burst from her chest. She clung to it until the waves breaking over the deck finally quieted.
Prying herself from her seat, she stood on shaky legs and made her way out of the cabin. The deck was a mess. Everywhere, she could see signs of (thankfully minor) damage among the debris of plant life from the sea that littered the surface. Carefully picking her way over the slick deck, Nerida entered her quarters and let out a sigh of relief. Everything appeared to be intact, and her few provisions in their waterproof lalorth-skin containers were all accounted for. Her hand shook only slightly from lingering shock as she set her bucket on the bolted-down table.
Wiping her hands against her leggings, woven from fibrous seaweed that floated in thick clusters on the water’s surface, Nerida slipped back onto the deck to survey her location. The tiny island was indeed nowhere in sight.
Fucking great. There went any chance of scouring for more food later in the day. Leaning back her head, she huffed in disgust at the heavens looking down on her.
“Just couldn’t cut me a break, could you?” she muttered to the heavenly ones. “That doesn’t put me in a very gracious mood when it comes to offerings,” she added.
Sirein: A Dystopian World Alien Romance Page 4
