Michael Siemsen - Exigency

ANGELA: Zisa doesn’t think it’s a good idea that we all go with them, and I agree with her. Pablo tried contacting Aether but hasn’t received a response.

TOM: So what the hell do we do?

ANGELA: You and I go with them while Zisa and Pablo transport the EV out of here to the rally point. Zisa says she’s flown a cluster before.

TOM: K. Let them know. I’ll try to explain to Amoss.

ANGELA: I’ll grab our packs.

Amoss was already holding out an insistent, beckoning arm as she took a few steps toward the Country Threck domicile. What had she meant saying farmers weren’t Threck? Clearly she considered them lessor beings—perhaps some sort of class system Minnie mentioned and Tom hadn’t bothered to remember.

Tom took a few conciliatory steps forward as he composed his response.

“My people are called scientists . We live for learning. For science . I will enjoy joining you along with my friend, Angela , while my other friends continue their important work.”

Amoss stopped, her eyes sucked into her head, popped back out, and then peered past Tom to the EV, skimmers, and Zisa and Pablo.

LIVETRANS: Syons People. Some Syons People must work now? No. Let them work later. Come now.

Uh-oh, Tom thought. Is that annoyance seeping out?

Tom made a quick decision he wasn’t sure was wise. “These two are like farmers. They do not need or deserve pleasure of words with Threck.”

LIVETRANS: [laughter] Yes, I see now. Let us leave them to their work while we escape this dry and hot. Come now. Come now.

Tom reached back and accepted his pack from Angela, took her hand, and gingerly stepped over the rows of crops as they followed Amoss and the others toward the domicile.

Aether decided it was finally safe to open her visor. The air in the EV was essentially the same as what her suit provided, but a hearty lungful of the pod air somehow tasted fresher.

The EV bobbed subtly left as the giant towing animal below shifted its course to the right. The pod’s motion resumed its retchy natural rhythm (the creature propelled itself in bursts, much like a squid), a pool of sea water sloshing about at their feet. Gazing up through her porthole, Aether observed they weren’t so far from the ocean surface. Perhaps 20m. Where were the Sea Threck taking them?

Sorry, Skinny, Aether thought. Sea “People?” When exactly did you stop being Threck? And where the hell are you taking us?

Skinny had last said, “I show you. You will see,” before diving back in the water and trying to shut the EV hatch (Qin had kindly assisted).

Show us what, exactly? How bad the real Threck are? Show us what happens to people that insult you?

How could she have thought first contact would ever occur under the silly ideal conditions outlined in the mission guide?

“Essentially same course,” Qin said. “Looks like it’s navigating around a little island just off the coast. Want to see?”

“Sure,” Aether said, and Qin M’d her a map of their position.

“I put a blue dot at the center of Threck City.”

They’d apparently traveled several kilometers west—farther and farther from the others—surely out of comms range by now. There was probably a way to improve surface comms, maybe use the supply pod network somehow. Qin or Zisa could possibly figure it out, given the opportunity, but when would that kind of time and focus present itself? After their current communication needs concluded, no doubt.

Aether noted EV4’s beacon on Qin’s map, but there was no indicator for Zisa and Pablo’s pod. “Where’s EV2?”

“Just outside the upper right corner. Not too far from Tom and Angela. The map is active. You can pull back and see them.”

Aether zoomed out one level and EV2 appeared. “And the rally point?”

“Southeast. Actually not too far from EV4… let me see… about two-K?”

Aether slid the map over to see the blinking orange dot. An abrupt pain stabbed sideways through her guts and an audible wince escaped.

Qin touched her arm. “You okay?”

“Reinitation pain. I think I need another bar. When was your last?”

“Yeah, I’ll eat. The idea is sickening, what with all this .” He flailed a hand around him as the pod once again lurched softly forward. “But it’s definitely been a while. Well before reentry.” They both tore into their calorie bar wrappers. “What happens when we run out? As in, we can’t eat their crops or meat or anything, right?”

Aether’s first bite slid abrasively down her throat. She envisioned a pile of gravel poured into an empty sack. “Not exactly. The arsenic and chlorine levels are high in pretty much every living thing here, but there are exceptions and there’s a plan.”

“Pablo and Angela.”

“Yes.”

“They just need time to make us some new meds. In the meantime, it won’t kill us to consume meat or most of their fruit crops. The effects would be longer term.”

“Yeah, I think I remember that report. Rashes, lesions, diabetes, cancer. At least the water’s safe.” He shook his SSK’s included filter-top bottle. “I just don’t get it. Everyone read the reports, so how could she think this was a good idea?”

Qin had spent a fair amount of time in orbit crabbing on Ish. He’d seen her hands on the supply pod’s controls in the seconds leading up to impact. Supposedly, her face displayed no alarm whatsoever, even once the pod reached final approach at double speed. Ish may have been responsible, but Qin’s harping was less than helpful.

Aether’s gaze remained on her food. “We can’t say as fact that it was intentional.”

“Oh, I can! Happy to! It was intentional. Crazy bitch. Sure, right, the walls are closing in on you, you’ve got to escape, games aren’t enough anymore! Well, it’s not an escape if everything down here kills you.” His tone stung.

Aether scowled. “That’s enough.”

Qin looked at her, confused. He didn’t get it.

If Ish was the cause, didn’t that mean Aether was equally responsible? And blame aside, she loved Ish like a daughter. She loved each of them, faults and all. Ish, Zisa, Angela, Pablo, Tom, Qin… John…

Minnie.

Aether had been selected for her maternal nature. Father figures hadn’t been in short supply (not exclusively due to the inherent abundance of male egos in the program), but every mission required a mom. The role carried as much priority as any scientific discipline and, like every other station position, mandated a back-up. In the case of the Epsilon C mission, Zisa had been designated maternal secondary. As laughable as this notion was to the rest of the crew now, Aether knew that Zisa certainly had the emotional depth, if not maturity.

Ironically, if asked one week ago who she thought would best serve as mission mom in her stead, Aether would have said Ish. This only highlighted how out of touch she’d been with her troubled Hynka lead. Months ago, during a regular private session, Aether had brought up Ish’s lack of recreational gaming (a strictly quota’d activity for all crew members), and Ish responded calmly, and even with good humor.

“I’ve developed my own game in the Epsy surface sim. It serves all of the same spatial relief requirements, and…” Ish smiled and tilted her head in that girlish manner that widened her eyes and instantly wiped 20 years from her face. “… it was the cleverest way I could find to overlap work and downtime.”

Aether had melted and let it go, hugging Ish tight and kissing her forehead. “I love you, beti.”