Michael Siemsen - Exigency

She closed her bio eye and zoomed in. One of the riverbears, large rump in the air, was digging out the frost beneath a megabulb. Megabulb or frostbulb? She couldn’t tell the difference. Wistful, Minnie knew how thrilled Angela would’ve been to see Minnie’s vids of her temporary camp, surrounded by the strange organisms.

Vids.

A fleeting smirk as John’s cheeky postscript popped back in her head.

Perv. I knew you had goddamn vids.

The second riverbear grew more animated and alert as the bulb’s thick, veiny base became exposed, dark permafrost soil staining the white surface. It guarded the opposite side as if something might spring out at any second.

It didn’t so much spring as swim , slithering up and out for a last-ditch escape. As the second riverbear trapped the eelish thing between four feet, dancing atop it like a cat on a jingly ball, Minnie’s own campsite felt a notch less safe than only a second earlier. Within 20m of her tent, no less than a dozen bulbs sprouted from the permafrost, like giant golf balls balancing on little tees. These snake things didn’t match any species in the master catalogue, and were probably dangerous, given Minnie’s track record thus far. Even if they weren’t, they were part of a riverbear’s nutritious breakfast, and legitimate cause for concern.

She watched the first riverbear join the second, cordially dividing the convulsing serpent between them. Minnie zoomed in all the way to their gobbling mouths. The silvery creature looked more like a long fish than snake. Tailfin, dorsal fin, eyes—only the pelvic/pectoral fins appeared adapted for surface mobility. This organism could very well offer an eye-opening peek into Epsy’s evolutionary history.

Shrug.

Minnie wasn’t a scientist anymore. She was just another animal fighting for survival. With any luck, she’d have some help with that soon.

The skimmer sat parked on a clear beach straddling the 50 thparallel, three different beacons rigged and silently blaring for anyone with even just a fone. Aether was either three days late, or had already come and gone before Minnie’s arrival yesterday.

Minnie refused to believe that.

Sated for the moment, the riverbears engaged in a conscientious, leave-no-trace ritual, repacking the soil around the bulb’s base, then the frost, until the surface returned to a seemingly undisturbed state. Minnie’s focus centered on those claws as the pair ambled to the next bulb, sniffing around. Remorse already tugged at her gut, but she’d decided that her own life would remain priority one, even if it called for preemptive action. These animals were not endangered (yet), and like everything else alive, they’d meet their end one way or another. Prox sensors or not, she wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight knowing those things were wandering the area.

She slid back, rolled over, and sat up, pulling out her MW. Ample power, still plenty of ammo. She aimed at the ground nearby and fired a test shot on lethal. A tiny piece of the glacier’s frost coat flinched. She stood up and magviewed through the surface. The round had fragmented and dispersed in the proper starburst shape. Cold didn’t appear to be an issue for the weapon or multirounds. Still fearful of a malfunction, she wanted the other MW and a spare cartridge on her.

Descending the icy slope, she took a few precarious steps before deciding it’d be safer on her knees. She dropped down, sliding the rest of the way to her saucer-shaped safe zone. At ground level, she jogged a wavy course through the bulb grove, optics flashing toward each bulb’s subsurface root stock. Indeed, roughly half of them were home to an unmoving coiled serpent, mouth clamped on a vein. Ugly, but seemingly inert when left alone.

Her camp was as she’d left it. Supply bins and gear stacked up as a wall between two bulbs. The tent stood only a couple meters from the wall, and before it sat her symbolic campfire—the heater on a metal container lid—along with John’s survival bag stuffed into a squishy chair.

She found the second MW and a spare cartridge, affixing the holster to her free hip like a gunfighter. An insulated case supplied a bottle of water she’d earlier melted. She unsealed her suit and poured the water in to top off. A few strips of bunny jerky remained in her pocket, but she grabbed a couple more, just in case. She wouldn’t be caught unprepared again. No more overconfidence. No more presumption about “quick” excursions. Her eyes touched each container as a mental inventory scrolled. There didn’t seem to be anything else she’d need.

But…

She turned to the “campfire” and had an idea. The heater’s charge was at max. She set it to medium power, then stood, peering west through bulbs and a low permafrost crest. Just beyond the dark crest, the skimmer shone yellow and green in thermag, yellow in pure therm, and pale blue in mag. If Aether or Pablo showed up and stood near that skimmer, surveying the area with optics, the heater would light up like the sun through pretty much any go-to optic. They’d then hike over the little ridge, walk the short distance to her camp, and see that she’d only just stepped out. Satisfied, she set out toward the glacial rift.

The riverbears had moved fast, leaving the adjacent valley for another farther south. By the time she finally caught up, premature remorse had swelled to a tormenting new level. The animals were leaving , possibly calling it a night. As the sun set on the glacier, the temperature rapidly dropped. They were now more than 5K from her camp and still moving. What if they’d just grabbed a final snack before some great seasonal migration? Or they could be stopping into the den to check on the kids before heading back north to hunt in the nighttime field, AKA Minnie’s camp.

Keep telling yourself that, she thought as she stalked near the couple.

Creeping close, with only a single bulb between her MW and a riverbear ass, Minnie chose to focus only on those claws, and a vision of being dragged from her tent before her body was bisected for a polite, even-steven meal. She strove to ignore the beasts’ somewhat adorable trotting before her, hind legs prancing like a pair of dressage horses.

She darted right, through the open, and alongside another bulb. A few shots to the hindquarters would surely be devastating, but this needed to be a quick death for both. Their pace steady, Minnie ran ahead, obscured by the tall orbs, and then cut back left to head them off. She stopped, raised her visor to listen, counted two beats—listening for their thumping canter—and realized something was wrong. Without a glance, she pushed her body away from the bulb, diving and twisting, rolling and spinning about, landing on foot and knee, MW in the air and ready.

Her senses sound, the riverbears had indeed noticed Minnie and snuck right up behind her. All four eyes fixed on her, broad bodies advancing with the fearless audacity of a true apex predator.

“Hey!” Minnie roared, hustling to her feet.

Both paused, confused. Minnie’s finger tightened on the trigger. The one on the right tilted its head, like a puppy unsure what master wants. Minnie growled inside.

Shoot, idiot!

But her finger wouldn’t squeeze any tighter. She stomped a foot forward and shouted again. “Haurgh!”

Both riverbears recoiled with a start, retreating backward, skirting behind the bulb Minnie had last used for cover, and back toward Minnie’s camp.

Well, if you’re not going to shoot the damned things, at least scare them off in the right direction!

Minnie gave chase around the bulb, screaming like a looner and clapping her free hand against the side of the MW. Like herding sheep, she had to run out ahead and guide them back on course, away from her site. The riverbears huffed and spat, but continued running with their heads hung low. Still anxious about a potentially unwise decision, Minnie deliberated as the duo reached a straightaway between bulbs and accelerated. She couldn’t keep up with their burst of speed. Last chance.