Michael Siemsen - Exigency

Aether heard Skinny’s breath speeding up. She looked over at Skinny’s eyes. They appeared focused not on the ring, but beyond it and to the left, and they were widening, creeping almost imperceptibly forward.

Skinny uttered a single, muted syllable: “Soot.”

LIVETRANS: Now.

And then all hell broke loose.

Having taken her meds and eaten, Angela seemed to be in a bit better mood. One might even surmise that she was excited about visiting Threck City. After her fury dissipated, Tom enjoyed witnessing her engineer side taking over as they jounced about in a wagon on the main road.

Threck wagons were designed unlike any cart or vehicle in human history, and while the team had detailed schematics and imagery of the peculiar inventions, to see them up close— to travel upon one —was no less thrilling for her. The Threck had examples of wheels in various mechanisms (pulleys and such), and yet they relied upon heavy cement spheres for all sorts of on (and off) the ground load bearing and shifting. City gates, carts, and the massive water-wheels around the city all used these large balls. The wagons had a sphere on all four sides and rolled on the front and rear balls for normal forward travel, and the two side balls for side-to-side motion. It was highly impractical considering that without domesticated beasts of burden, propulsion was achieved via teams of Threck, and at any given time, 200 kilos of extra weight must be hauled above and beyond the cargo.

During an obligatory exigency meeting, the team had discussed what sorts of technology advancements the team might offer the Threck in exchange for accommodating the foreigners on their island. Limited medicinal advancements met with mixed reactions, but the wheel had been agreed upon unanimously.

“Isn’t it funny,” Angela smiled, motioning to the weary Threck driving the cart forward, “how once-theoretical negotiations about technology sharing now have a real-life bearing on our own personal comfort?”

Tom was sweating, and not from the heat outside his suit. He really needed to move his bowels. “Explaining the wheel to them right now isn’t going to smooth this ride or get us there any sooner. Let me concentrate.”

“Just say something, you wuss.” Angela smacked his shoulder. “We’re going to enter those gates in…” she craned her neck toward the gradually growing city, “I’m guessing around ten minutes, and once we’re in there, walking around, meeting with honchos, you’re definitely not going to say anything. I know you won’t. You’re going to end up crapping in your suit or rupturing something internal.”

“I think that’s a myth. The door would surely give way long before the walls.”

“Regardless.”

Tom stiffened his posture and raised his chin, speaking in a posh tone. “Apologies, but, notwithstanding this excruciating encumbrance, I’m like an ambassador at present. Someone of my stature does not—”

“Crap themselves in public,” Angela finished for him.

She stood up in the cart, searching for stable footing on the crops. A few seconds later, her Livetrans synth voice played loud enough for Amoss, in the cart ahead of them, to hear over the rolling din.

“Pardon me. One of us requires an excretion stop.” She pointed at Tom.

Fifteen minutes later, the carts entered the city’s main western gate. In the broad tunnel, the temperature dropped rapidly, and a cool breeze flowed from inside out. It smelled faintly acrid, like overwatered indoor plants with rotting soil. The tunnel widened abruptly and they found themselves in a large dome-shaped room where Threck moved quickly to unload the carts into baskets. Though Tom and Angela hadn’t escaped the notice of these new Threck, no one appeared to slow down or hold a glance for long. These people were well-trained and disciplined, executing their assigned duties like hive insects.

A scurrying young Threck carrying two stepstools placed one beside Tom and Angela’s cart just as Amoss and another Threck (Oose?) arrived to help them down.

“Come now, Tom and Angela, and follow Tatsis to your waiting place,” Amoss said. “Our jubilant Thinkers have been notified of your auspicious presence and currently travel to their celebrated chamber.”

“Have Syons People previously observed Threck City?” Tatsis, a somewhat smaller figure with an apparently permanent leftward lean, gestured around the substantial room. “From within or without?”

“Only from the outside,” Tom carefully replied.

And it was true. John would have never allowed a dragonfly or any other probes within the city perimeter, no matter how many assurances Minnie offered. But imaging technology certainly had no problem penetrating concrete or the Threck version of waxed canvas. The team had fairly detailed maps of all but the deepest and centermost areas of Threck City, and most everywhere else had been filled in via conversation analysis automations. This, however, did nothing to subtract from Tom’s trembling delight to actually be inside.

Boots firmly planted on the wet floor, Tom helped a grinning Angela down from the cart, and the pair followed Tatsis across the busy room. Tom tried to study everything at once. The floor was of particular interest. This was the surface upon which Threck “knee” bends must step and slide every day. While the team had assumed that everything at or below the water table would be mud, it was, in fact, covered in meticulously polished stone, like marble, and each massive slab was lined up perfectly to its neighbors, making the floor, at first glance, appear composed of a single, arena-sized piece. This flooring choice made perfect sense. Smooth against the skin, easy to keep clean, no issues with constant wetness, and surely great for sliding cargo around. Many of the paths outside the city were paved with polished stone slabs, but the crew had no idea of its extensive use inside the city.

Tatsis led them into a long, bright passageway. The tunnel’s roof was fashioned of the same purple canvas that swathed the rest of the city, draped over successive stone and mortar archways, and held taut by braided fibers. Generations ago, in the interest of temperature reduction, Threck Thinkers and Materials workers had settled on the color of the sky as the best reflector of heat. Logic dictated that the sun’s violet rays carried with them the heat one felt while standing outside. And so, if one wished to reflect these rays, the optimal material color would, of course, be violet. As far as Tom knew, no one had yet questioned this reasoning, and based upon the remarkable coolness of the interior thus far, clearly other design aspects or mechanisms were picking up the slack. The air felt damp, like a bathroom after a shower.

At the passage’s end they reached a T, and followed a new hallway left. Passers-by here were not so indifferent to the orange-clad guests’ presence.

“What are these?” A Threck stopped in front of Tatsis, even reaching out abruptly to touch Angela’s unshielded face.

Tatsis thwacked the arm away. “Guests from another land. Be on your way. City address to come.”

The curious Threck stepped back to let them pass, but remained planted in that spot, transfixed by Tom and Angela as they moved on.

The next citizen hindering their progress was not so easily dismissed.

“What are these, Tatsis? And why have I received no notice?” She was a wide one, commanding in both manner and form.

Tatsis froze and appeared to shrink even smaller in front of Tom and Angela. “Dowfwoss Fetz, I’ve come directly from Dowfwoss Amoss, delivering these to holding—”

The Dowfwoss’s eyes studied Tom and Angela as she spoke. “Before what? In wait of what? They walk on two… Where are they from? What are they for?”