‘Kiss the ground,’ chuckles Dumza. ‘Tell it I say hello.’ He turns back to the nasturtiums he’s pruning. I watch him, how he clips methodically and peacefully, like he’s alive.
‘Why did you do it?’ I ask him, knowing the answer will be my own, from my own mind, and not his at all. Knowing that I will never get the truth from him but needing an answer somehow.
‘You’re here. Isn’t that enough?’
‘No,’ I say. Grief rises high tide in my chest. ‘You shouldn’t have done it. You loved her, didn’t you?’
‘Of course, I loved her,’ says Dumza.
‘But you killed her. Violently. Just because you wanted me to go to Mars. I don’t know if I can believe that,’ I say. I look down to the shears Dumza is holding and see the tips of them are dripping with blood.
‘What else could I tell myself? Tell you? I didn’t want to be a man capable of killing someone just because I was jealous. How could I be that kind of man?’
‘I don’t know,’ I say but I’m relieved. The deaths are not on me. They are not my fault. I did not make Dumza do what he did, though, I realise now that this is the idea I’ve been carrying around.
‘You lied,’ I say.
Dumza drops the shears, they clatter and dissolve into the grass. Mars swells in the sky behind him, filling the sky entirely. ‘Yes. I suppose I did. To protect my own sanity. It didn’t work though, did it.’
I’m not surprised when he fades and leaves me alone in the garden. The music of crickets and bats rises in the sim again, the air cooling. I take a deep breath of the garden scent I remember so well—the scent I will never smell on Mars.
I will not return to the Sim again, so I say goodbye to the grass and the trees and the breeze. I say my final goodbye to Earth.
#
The entire crew gathers in the viewing room once we achieve orbit. The curved horizon of Mars stretches out towards us, so close.
We are quiet, as we stand there, the gravity of what we’ve done settling on our almost Martian skins. Are we still human when we are no longer of Earth? I wonder to myself.
My favourite paragraph from Native in Space says this: “Humanity is not simply a state of ‘being human’. Humanity is the benevolence we carry within us. It is who we are and what we do when we are fully human—it is community, Ubuntu, unable to be manifested alone. Even in space, detached from the soil of our beings, we can exercise humanity. In fact, I am of the opinion that space may be the very place we learn how intrinsic our humanity is to our survival.”
Lucky broadcasts the message from Hector Damenzes, one of the captains from three missions ago. ‘Welcome Cosmos 8! We’ve got your habitat ready and waiting. Skies will be clear in four hours and you can come join us. We know it’s been a long few weeks, but home is waiting for you.’
Cristy Zinn is the author of two fantasy novels, The Dreamer’s Tears and Of Magic and Memory and has published various short stories. She is enthralled by stories involving the fantastic—technological and magical. She works as a graphic designer and illustrator. Cristy lives in Durban with her husband and two teenagers who graciously endure her obsession with stories. Find her online: cristyzinn.com
The EMO Hunter
Mandisi Nkomo
“As the Earth Mother is my witness, I vow to avenge the destruction of her physical form. The Emotion Manipulator is her enemy, and thus mine. I will strike them down, man, woman or child. I will strike down all colluders who betray the Earth Mother’s trust. This I promise to you, great Earth Mother, who bred and nurtured me for millennia. We await your rebirth Earth Mother, so that humankind may one day return home.” – Prayer of The Earth Mother Knights.
Joshua and Miku stood and walked away from the prayer circle. While Miku idled with the other wives, Joshua confided with the other Earth Mother Knights. The priest congratulated them on their work and blessed them with sprinklings of crushed leaves and flower petals. Once the blessing was over Joshua joined Miku, and in silence they walked The Holy Grounds heading for the nursery enclosure.
Inside, Earth Mother Nurses tended the children, who played in the mud and bushes. Their son Kirill was still a baby and was placed indoors. They proceeded to his crib, and he smiled as Miku reached for him. Like his father, Kirill had bright black beady eyes as intense as they were friendly. Kirill’s complexion complemented his parents contrasting complexions; his smooth baby skin appeared like a bleached brown. Together, the three appeared as a sequential progression in shades. After picking up Kirill they went back outside and headed for the exit.
The grey metallic facades of Paragonia’s skyscrapers clawed above the height of the trees. Outside The Holy Grounds, hordes of hovercraft engulfed the street, as the churchgoers filed out. It was here Joshua and Miku parted ways.
‘Well, the bus is waiting. I hope you enjoyed the ceremony. I don’t really understand why you avoid them so much,’ Joshua said brightly.
‘I actually think I did this time,’ Miku lied. ‘Maybe I’ll join you again next time. Anyway, I should probably get Kirill home.’
‘Right,’ Joshua said. ‘Well... duty calls.’
He kissed Miku politely on the cheek and made his way to the Earth Mother bus, beginning to brood. Temporarily, he pretended he believed Miku; he knew he did not. She often lied to his face.
He reached the bus and walked up the platform to join his colleagues. The bus ascended to Level 5 and followed holographic street alignments which bled up from the ground.
On arrival, The Earth Mother Knights streamed out of the bus, through the hangar, and into the locker rooms. They swapped their prayer robes for tight bodysuits with dangling wires and tubes, then filed out into the armoury. One-by-one they walked into what resembled a giant fridge—The Assembler. They were stamped, and stepped out looking reptilian, layered in metallic scales.
Once armoured, each Knight proceeded to his consultation room for analysis and briefing.
‘Hello Joshua,’ Mohini said. ‘Did your wife enjoy the ceremony?’
‘Yes, she did,’ Joshua replied to the smooth electronic voice.
‘I am still detecting mood instability from you. It is recommended that you seek personal consultation to avoid excessive use of mood stimulants. Also, a friendly reminder: you are still overdue for lung and liver replacement.’
‘Um... thanks Mohini. What are my orders?’
#
Miku did not go home. She waited for Joshua to leave ignoring all the Earth Mother buses beckoning her with metal flaps, knowing they could not take her where she wanted to go—outside the Central City Cube. ‘Where the heretics go,’ she whispered to herself. Kirill slept soundly, sucking his thumb, tiny head rested on her shoulder. She doubted he would wake during her little escapade.
She slipped away, distancing herself from The Holy Grounds, and all the people who knew her as an extension of Joshua Shepard: The EMO Hunter, The EMOlisher, The EMOliminator... or whatever his fan-club was calling him lately. Once a safe distance away she hailed a hovertaxi. The driver ogled her a moment; her porcelain features were so delicate it appeared they might flutter away at the slightest breeze. His staring reminded her of the priests during Earth Mother Church Fundraisers.
Miku announced her destination, and the driver took off.
‘Are you sure you want to go out this far?’ he asked after a while.
‘Yes,’ Miku replied.
‘You know, the Earth Mother Knights are still working on these districts. It may not be safe. I don’t like coming down here and I definitely can’t leave clients here with a clear conscience.’
‘Yes, I’ve heard those rumours,’ Miku said. ‘None of it’s true. The people here are actually quite nice.’ She was quiet for a moment, and then waved her free hand over the side of the hovertaxi, pointing at the holographic street sign. ‘Stop here please.’
The driver descended, and Miku hopped out. She smiled as politely as she could muster, extending her thin lips sideways, but looking
like invisible hands forcefully pulled on her cheek muscles.
‘Here you go,’ Miku handed the driver her card.
When the transaction was complete the driver ascended. Miku stood on the corner looking down at Kirill. She caressed his hairless scalp before wandering down the street in search of the correct alley. This was a different part of Paragonia. It had dirt. Miku always wondered where the dirt came from. Did the rebels travel back-and-forth from The Holy Grounds? She imagined a band of would-be insurrectionists sitting in a basement somewhere, generating contraband grit and then painstakingly splattering it throughout the outskirts.
Rebels and EMOs and EMO affiliates. Miku did not quite know what to make of it all. She was just happy to experience subconscious art. She was not even sure if she had come into contact with an EMO, and even if she did, she was not sure whether she would have cared.
Miku made a left, into an alley which had been excavated by ‘freaks’ and ‘vagrants’ and transformed into a bazaar. She minded her own business as she weaved around the people and stalls. The clothing in the outskirts was also different; the people seemed to accessorise and destroy the functionality of their clothing, ripping off different parts of jumpsuits and robes and reattaching them on other sections. Miku had heard this was called ‘fashion’. She could not quite get her head around the concept.
She reached her destination and glided through the door.
‘Hello again,’ the stubby store clerk said. Miku was familiar with the woman but always forgot her name, Clarien, or something. The clerk had torn off pieces of robe to tie up tufts of her hair, making them stick out like spikes. She wore a sleeveless white robe, ripped at the bottom revealing meaty legs.
Miku smiled at her, this time not faking, and made her usual statement, ‘I just want to take a look at the art.’
Miku made her way around the room, staring intensely at the electronic canvases. The screens displayed various depictions of the artists’ subconscious. Some were buoyant, others macabre, and the majority blasphemous. However, showing what should not be shown was a purpose of subconscious art.
One particularly sentimental piece, depicting the reunion of humanity with the Earth Mother, struck a chord in Miku’s heart. She had a strong urge to buy it for Joshua. She knew deep down he would love the concept. She also knew that he would ostentatiously denounce it.
After about an hour, Kirill made a subtle movement in her arms. ‘We should get home,’ she muttered and stepped delicately towards the door.
When she reached it, the clerk yelled to her, ‘Hey wait! We’re doing a subconscious art promotion here. You know, trying to recruit more artists and get more work out. We’re allowing people to volunteer to present their art. With your permission, we’ll present it in the gallery. We have a Soul Digger here that can do it, if you’re new, and don’t have your own equipment. It’s obviously an older model, and we can’t allow you to program it to your art style, but for an older model its output is great.’
Miku stepped back defensively, ‘I... I’m not an artist.’
‘It’s not about that. You don’t need to be,’ the clerk replied. ‘We’re looking for newcomers and the inexperienced. Just try it out. You don’t have to submit the work that comes out. My boss is counting both the amount of work I get and the amount of people I log on the machine, so...’ the woman scrunched her lips, and silently pleaded with Miku.
Miku slid her fingers over Kirill’s little cheeks. ‘Well...’
#
Miku had an uncontrollable ethereal itch as the elevator slid upwards. Kirill was now crying; stirred awake by Miku’s response to her subconscious art. Due to her inexperience the image was sloppy, but it could still be made out. She had stormed out of the store feeling as if her nerves were ballooning and threatening to pop out her skin. She was distraught, and the thought it had planted in her conscious, what a terrible thought to have.
#
Kirill was finally asleep. Miku was still feeling edgy and panicked. How could she have conjured up such an image? She sat on the bed staring at the image and contemplating it deeply. Cloning... death, both were morally reprehensible.
#
‘Finished?’ Miku blurted the words out, too distracted to filter herself.
Joshua rolled off her and lay flat on his back. ‘Uh, yeah, I guess.’
There was a long silence.
When Joshua could no longer handle lying next to the source of his emasculation, he removed the sheets and stood up. ‘I need a smoke.’
Miku lay limp, torturing herself with the imagery of her subconscious art.
Joshua felt his way through the dark, stopping in front of his cigarette dispenser. He rapidly tapped his finger on a protruding button, allowing at least a dozen cigarettes to fall into the catching-bowl and overflow onto the soft carpet. He packed the little cylinders into his hands and moved on to the kitchen. At the fridge, he slapped another button and four beers popped out. He grouped all his poisons into his arms and made for Kirill’s room. Standing over the crib he looked down at Kirill.
‘I’m not that bad, am I? I serve the Earth Mother well. One day I’m sure you will too,’ Joshua murmured to the sleeping boy, and cracked open a beer. ‘It’s an honour to serve her. Don’t tell your mother this, but some days I wish I would die... just so I could meet the Earth Mother. I read about these things the other day. Beaches they were called. There’s sand and ocean. This was quite common on Earth. Just imagine!’
Joshua spoke on about Earth for another hour.
‘Wow! Look at the time. You made me forget I wanted a cigarette. So easy to talk to.’ He caressed Kirill’s chubby cheeks, making sure not to wake him.
‘Well little one... I’m off to play with my traumas and insomnia. Don’t wait up!’
Joshua left for the balcony, collecting more beer along the way. He plonked his belongings onto a vacant chair. Bright city lights blared at him while intrusive electronic billboards sold him dreams. They were everywhere; fixed to skyscrapers and great floating balloons.
“Happiness can only come from serving the Earth Mother.”
“Have you washed your face in petal-water today? Your soul needs a cleansing!”
“Your eternal Beach awaits you in death. Invest in the Church today! Don’t leave your loved ones hanging once you’ve ascended to paradise.”
He sighed and began gulping beer.
#
Joshua had already left for work when Miku woke; he was probably drunk, but his Earth Mother Armour would sober him. Miku paced around the flat, frantic, knowing this was her chance. She had to do it now, while she tasted the fresh blood of the idea—before she could write it off as a grandiose conception of mania. Before the guilt and moral depravity of it could dampen the demented excitement it gave her. The previous day she had seen the cup half-empty, but when she had awakened it was half-full.
She dressed herself, checked the information she had gathered from Joshua’s ‘secret’ EMO archives, and expunged her tracks. She then booked a hotel for Kirill and herself. Miku left the apartment tightly clutching Kirill, considering what role he would play in the upcoming ordeal.
The image came to her as she walked the buzzing streets, causing her to trip over her own feet. It was not the shock of the image that gripped her, but the way in which she completely understood its meaning.
She was in her own art gallery. The name of the gallery appeared backwards to her, but she knew what it was. She had dreamt of that name before.
She was straddling Joshua, but her buttocks were on dead flesh. Joshua was naked and lifeless; his tongue lolling disgustingly from his foaming mouth, and his eyes empty and opaque. The feel of his cold penis chilled her spine.
She did not look at him though, or Kirill, who cuddled and cried onto his dead father’s hairless scalp.
Instead Miku was transfixed by another man. Another Joshua made in her image. He was unclean; dirt and muck shaded his brown skin. His hair was long and knotted.
Miku could taste the poignant stench seeping off him.
Despite his grandiosity, Miku was in complete control. She gripped his erection like a puppet string. He would bow to her every whim.
#
Joshua clunked down the bright metallic hall of his apartment building. He reached his apartment shutter and spoke into the microphone adjacent.
‘Welcome home Joshua,’ Mohini said, as Joshua entered. ‘You have successfully completed another assignment. I’m sure your wife will be proud of you. The head priest sends his regards.’
I hope so. Maybe I can treat them to dinner. Any suggestions? he said voicelessly. Joshua simply had to think his responses for Mohini to translate them, she could also talk directly into his brain, but he found it too unnerving and kept her to vocal comms.
Joshua surveyed the array of local restaurants Mohini presented on his HUD. The apartment was silent, which was irregular. Joshua knew Kirill had formed a fascination with his Earth Mother Knight armour. The boy usually waited to gawk at him the moment he entered the apartment.
‘Should I adjust your avatar to a smiley?’ Mohini asked.
Yes... but I wonder where Kirill is? I mostly do it for him. Have you noticed how clever he’s gotten? Waiting at the door when I come home—he knows exactly when I’ll arrive.
‘Yes, he is getting smart.’
Joshua continued through the apartment, still not meeting Kirill. Disappointed at the lack of greeting, he sought out the Armour Centre.
The Armour Centre was a man-sized box, inset into the apartment wall. Joshua stepped in and assumed the correct position.
‘Disassembly commencing. Due to your immense psychological come down I still suggest you seek psychiatric and psychological care for a more permanent solution to your problems.’
Yes honey! Joshua mocked.
He felt his body aches return, as a multitude of pins were removed from his flesh.
‘Removing anaesthesia. Mood regulators released. Strength and agility dampened. Do try to relax, your mood is spiking.’
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