Exigency Read online

  While confident in Minnie’s DB and Livetrans, she knew her gestures (or lack thereof) could have ruined the entire message. Especially given the number of physical modifiers in the language that neither Livetrans nor Aether could incorporate. Speaking during inhale or exhale, siphons open or closed, eye hides—and there were a dizzying number of variables. “Fortunately,” Minnie had said in one briefing, “this is one of those exigency preps none of us need worry too much about. Unless the Threck throw together some kind of superduper slingshot and shoot themselves up here, we’ll never be face to face with one of these people.”

  The Threck was still asking about Peess-CK. Aether highlighted the sound. It meant “lost.” She checked for modifiers. The app indicated it was an inhaled word. She played it again while exaggerating an inhale.

  The Threck signaled understanding and looked purposefully to Aether then Qin, pointing. “Packe Eeser … Tchin.” It crossed its clubs over its upper legs and said, “Packesheh EH-skinee.” It repeated, slower, “EH-skinnneee.”

  LIVETRANS: [I am] [unknown]. [unknown].

  Aether input a response and the translation played through her speaker. “Peaceful greetings, Eh-skinee.” She added the Threck’s name to the catalogue as Skinny.

  “Peaceful greetings, Eeser,” Skinny replied with much exuberant head cocking.

  Aether smiled and then hoped it wasn’t an offensive or threatening gesture to show one’s teeth.

  “Okay so this all looks great and everything,” Qin’s voice said in her helmet. But you think you can tell him to take us back up to the surface? Maybe something like we’ll only keep talking if you let us go up?”

  She ignored Qin and composed her next message to Skinny. What an insane thrill to be conversing, she thought, even through a synth. Skinny, too, appeared more energized. And, apparently, Aether’s body language and expressions were sufficient for Skinny to grasp her meaning. Who knew if Minnie would be proud, ashamed, or die laughing at the sight?

  “Aether and Qin breathe only air so cannot stay long in Skinny’s safe water. Can we talk more on land beach?”

  Skinny’s eyes hid before peering down at the pool of water. Another pair of eyes and head top had been poking up for an unknown length of time. Aether watched Livetrans.

  “Orange People want land,” Skinny said to the observer. Apparently, the suits’ bright color had become the defining characteristic of humans.

  The other Threck rose up so its siphons were above water.

  “… danger … die in water,” the Threck at the hatch replied.

  Aether had disabled [unknown] words and gesture bracketing from displaying, but she wasn’t fond of what remained without them.

  Skinny turned back to her. “How much time Aether and Qin live in water?”

  “No amount of time,” Aether had the synth reply. She needed to make it very clear. “We only live on land. We die in water.”

  Skinny said, “Threck are on land. Not safe for Aether and Qin.”

  Threck are on land?

  Aether was confused. “Is Skinny not Threck?”

  Skinny’s eyes hid and body contorted. [Shameful disgust]. The other Threck below disappeared under the water with a little splash.

  Aether watched the Livetrans unfold before her as Skinny went into an apparent tirade, voice blaring through wide siphon holes as tentacles slapped consoles.

  “This is not kind to speak! You are mountain people from far away! We do not angry for these words not to repeat. Threck are evil! Threck are tricking! Threck take people away to make more Threck! Threck will take Aether and Qin! Skinny protects Aether and Qin from Threck in my water!”

  2.2

  Was it wrong to be a little grateful for a station catastrophe? Offensive to internally celebrate a near-death experience—a disaster that may have taken the lives of crewmates and friends? Tom knew that Aether and Qin had made it to the surface (albeit an unstable, liquidy surface commonly known as an ocean), however the fates of Minnie, Ish, and John had yet to be determined. Of course he hoped for the best—nay, was near-certain of the best!—but zipping through the hot fresh air atop an expedition skimmer, pseudo-racing Angela, his girlfriend and bunkbud of the past several months, lush landscape flashing by below them, with open space stretching off in every direction, well … it’d been difficult to remain exclusively glum.

  Tom glanced down at the nav panel. 39 seconds from EV2’s position. In the distance, the terrain appeared to clear. Threck farms in this region typically grew beans or pulp fruits, and, removed from the surrounding backdrop of unearthly blue, pink, and teal vegetation, they could easily be mistaken for farms back home. The Threck’s favorite beans even boasted green foliage, an abnormal hue on Epsy where teal had evolved dominance beneath the violet sky.

  The wild, vibrant forest gave way to the managed farmland and sporadic, low-profile domed structures characteristic of Country Threck. The crew had yet to determine these simple domiciles’ building materials, as opposed to the wood-crafted structures found on farms closer to the city, and managed by City Threck. Not really wood. It was more like dense, petrified mushroom. For simplicity’s sake, whenever possible, the crew had agreed to refer to certain things by their closest Earth counterparts. Fungus, lichen, plant, rodentia, worm, mollusk—few were all that accurate. Epsy’s rodent population were more closely related to early Earth birds. They were even coldblooded. The crew used the term “fungus” to describe the planet’s dominant flora, but epsequoia, toothpicks, pillars, palms, and the rest had no real genetic equivalents on Earth. In reality, nothing living on Epsy had a true Earth equivalent. Epsy life’s foundations began similarly to Earth, but a billion years of initial evolution produced different “winners” than on Earth, and so everything thereafter had been built upon common building blocks. In fact, without counteractive supplements, there was little on Epsy that humans could safely consume on a regular basis due to extremely high arsenic and chlorine content. The beans and fruits in the fields before them were literally poison.

  “There they are!” Angela’s voice in his helmet.

  “I see them.” EV2’s shiny white hull couldn’t be missed in the duotone field of brown soil with neat rows of short, green crops. Zisa and Pablo, too, were more than discernible in their orange survival suits. And, as reported, a few Threck stood nearby.

  Tom began cramming from memory.

  While culturally different from City Threck, Country Threck had rapidly grown dependent upon their coastal cousins. Minnie posited that City Threck had begun by exchanging wagons of seafood for portions of the then-limited crops. Later, they’d brought fresh water via aqueduct to the landlocked region from the distant mountains, reducing Country Threck dependence on the unpredictable rains, and enabling the farmers to multiply their harvests.

  But this civil relationship between previously separate cultures hardly suggested that Country or City Threck would behave even remotely accommodating to actual aliens.

  As Tom considered the potential danger of the situation he and Angela were about to enter, he self-soothed with a series of recalled images from Minnie’s reports: a Country Threck nursing an injured rodent, well-organized teams of City Threck building a dam, groups lounging in a warm mud bath in the city as they debated the existence of “the future.” No scenes of war or religious sacrifice or cruelty.

  As Tom and Angela descended, the three Threck near the EV suddenly caught sight of the skimmers, and took off running through the field toward their domicile. Tom had never before seen a Threck in a hurry. Those guys could move! They reminded Tom of Jesus Christ lizards running across water … but in funny outfits. Unlike the common City Threck in their Romanesque robes, Country Threck wore more fitted garb: trousers of canvas-like material and an overlapping short cloak that covered their heads and a bit of tentacle, like a medieval hooded shoulder cape.

  Tom watched the farmers bound across the crop rows as he brought the skimmer down near an apparently ecstatic Zisa. He shut
down the transport and glanced up to Angela as she descended. To annoy her, he pointed out a landing area in the open space exactly where Angela was headed.

  Angela’s voice: “Oh, right here? May I? Here’s good, you silly ass?”

  He glanced back at her as she touched down and saw her wry grin when something suddenly struck his chest, pushing him off-balance, and he almost tumbled off the skimmer platform.

  “Zooks, that was so close!” Zisa embraced him and he tentatively stroked her back. She was shaking. “Thank you thank you thank you!” she babbled into his chest.

  Tom looked up and saw Pablo’s she’s exaggerating expression.

  A request appeared in Tom’s fone.

  ALERTS: Direct Connect request from Pablo.

  Tom accepted and an M instantly appeared.

  PABLO: No danger. They were just standing there, staring at us.

  Tom composed a reply while making fatherly shushing sounds and patting Zisa’s back as she cried.

  TOM: I figured. How was it the past few days? Pure hell?

  PABLO: Surprisingly OK. She talked a lot. I listened. Kind of really connected. We did it. Took turns sleeping.

  TOM: Wait. Did it? As in IT?

  PABLO: Yup. Don’t say anything tho. Not even to Ang.

  TOM: That’s crazy! And don’t worry, I won’t.

  Tom opened a new M to Angela.

  TOM: Pablo and Zisa did IT!

  ANGELA: NO! You’re lying! Are you lying?

  Tom copy/pasted his exchange with Pablo into his M to Angela just as she arrived at his side. She rubbed Zisa’s back in circles and guided her away from Tom.

  “C’mon now, hon,” Angela said. “It’s all over now. We’ll let it all out and get to work, ‘kay?”

  ANGELA: So it looks like you waited about 3 seconds after promising secrecy before telling me.

  TOM: LOL not even 3 seconds.

  ANGELA: I’m in awe.

  TOM: Me too. I love you.

  ANGELA: Love you too. You better not c/p crap I send you.

  TOM: Never.

  TOM: OK Once.

  TOM: OK Rarely.

  TOM: OK Sometimes.

  ANGELA: I’m gonna kick your ass.

  “Thanks for the assist,” Pablo said as he shook hands with Tom. “Guessing you guys landed pretty close to here?”

  Angela nodded. “About five-K east. Let’s get your skimmers undocked so we can tow your EV out of this field.”

  Tom agreed. “And you two need to finish your exigency procedures. Data files, suit water, SSKs, food. We need to stay on top of that stuff until everyone’s at the rally point. Aether and Qin made a water landing and expect to be there tomorrow.”

  “Yeah, I caught that on comms earlier,” Pablo said. “Are we sure they’re okay out there?”

  “We’ll check in with them once we get you guys out of here,” Angela called from the other side of the EV. “Just get going on your stuff for now.”

  Pablo leaned to Tom and cut his eyes toward the EV, whispering, “She’s still bossy.”

  Tom smirked. “Yup. I think she’d like to be gone before your three farmer friends stroll back out here. You two eat anything yet?”

  Pablo’s face twitched a little at the mention of food. Tom empathized. For how many years had it been the ultimate taboo? How long would it take for the stigma to fade?

  Pablo replied, “We both had our scheduled calorie bars. You?”

  Tom nodded affirmative as Angela called out again, “Tom, could you come back here, please?”

  Pablo and Tom shared a lighthearted “uh-oh” face and split up.

  “Coming!” Tom walked around the EV just as the first skimmer was unfolding. “I’ll start the other one—”

  “No, I need you to figure out how to link the skimmers. You know, for loadbearing.”

  “Right.” He walked to his own skimmer, trying to recall the steps.

  Up to eight skimmers could be linked and controlled by a single node, and at least three were required to heft the weight of an EV. He dove into his skimmer’s settings in search of a link or connect menu, but found it under “Advanced Tasking.” Only two other skimmers appeared in the discovery list until Angela got the fourth powered up.

  “All set!” Tom gave her a thumbs up. “Let’s get the cables out.”

  A few minutes later, Tom noticed two Threck had reappeared in the field. The pair were lying low behind the row of bean plants closest to their domicile, attempting to covertly observe the team with only their protruding eyes. Tom imagined the species had spent millions of years in such a position, body hidden beneath the sea floor, or more recently, in mud—thus the eyes’ position atop the dome-shaped heads.

  “We’re all hooked up,” Zisa said, snapping Tom out of his daze. “You want us on our skimmers or in the EV?”

  “Oh, definitely the skimmers,” Tom said, observing her face looked especially red and dry. “Just hang onto your grips and don’t reinitiate control unless I say so. You doing okay? You’re not sweating.”

  “Plenty of sweat in this suit,” she said and tilted her head to the EV. “Pablo’s almost done filling his. He already told me I have to drink more water.”

  “So are you?” Tom worried about Zisa manufacturing another illness for sympathy’s sake. She’d done it a few times on the station and they couldn’t deal with that mess here on the surface.

  “Yes, I am,” she said like a bratty teen. “Here … see?” She grabbed the tube with her tongue and sucked in several gulps.

  “Tom,” Angela said, and he glanced back at her.

  She was standing on her skimmer, hands on the control bars, but concerned eyes pointed behind him. She cocked her head for him to turn around.

  Tom peered back and spotted them: a caravan of City Threck emerging from the shaded road beside the farm’s domicile. They marched in two, wide-spaced columns with bright red shades, each held aloft by four tall poles at the corners. As the caravan turned in front of the domicile, the two hiding Country Threck stood up and faced the new arrivals.

  “We need to hurry,” Tom said. “Pablo? We have to go!” He stepped up onto his own skimmer and Zisa did the same.

  “I’m coming!” Pablo’s muffled voice from inside the EV. “What’s happening?”

  “More company!” Angela shouted. “Move your ass!”

  The columns of City Threck continued their march in front of the structure, revealing more and more of them, some pushing or pulling stone-wheeled carts for the harvest. Tom estimated at least thirty so far, all covered by the canvas shades, a red hue cast upon the Threck and ground.

  “Crapshake,” Angela said.

  Tom saw it, too: the Country Threck pointed back at them and a group of curious City Threck stretched out higher to see. “Pablo!”

  “Just sealing the door! Ten seconds!”

  “Too late,” Tom said quietly as eight City Threck bounded across the crop rows. Strides of seven to eight meters required little effort from their long legs. Each held up their robes like a Renaissance lady lifting a dress to scale a flight of stairs or cross a puddle.

  “I’m on,” Pablo shouted from the skimmer behind Angela. “Let’s go!”

  But the first of the Threck had already stopped a short distance from Tom, its arms held out to its sides. “Peaceful greetings,” it said in crisp City dialect. “I am Dowfwoss Amoss.” Its voice was mesmerizing—similar to the thousands of recordings he’d heard over the years, but so much more dimension. The Threck voice box was buried deep inside the head (the equivalent of humans vocalizing from the chest) and soundwaves traveled up through two widening tubes to their siphon holes, amplified and emitted as if through a short horn. On the station, Tom hadn’t given much thought to the harmonics, focusing strictly on the words and gestures during Minnie’s often abbreviated lessons. In person, the voice was smooth and deep, like an old-fashioned radio announcer. At least, that was the case with this Dowfwoss Amoss.

  Tom scrambled to bring up h
is Livetrans app.

  Dowfwoss? Some sort of honorary? C’mon, c’mon!

  “Pleasure for all,” Amoss went on, though Tom had no idea how much of the message he was interpreting correctly. “Do return home … group animal life. So much pleasure. With Threck words? Feel them? Now you.”

  The app had finished loading, but Tom had yet to resync his fone and suit. PA speakers finally activated, Tom stepped down from the skimmer platform, faced the Threck, and pointed his hands out to his sides. This was the moment he’d dreaded for days—an encounter he thought he could delay or even avoid all together.

  “Peaceful greetings.” Minnie’s synth Threck voice worked perfectly as it read the lines Tom had entered. Tom didn’t know if he could say the same for his associated gestures and expressions. “I am Tom. My people have different words than Threck, but I know some of yours. Please speak slowly, so that I may understand all of your words. We are peaceful people from faraway place.”

  Tom watched as all of the Threck behind Amoss leaned to each other and chattered quietly amongst themselves.

  “Your words are like moist song I wish to dance,” Amoss may have said … Tom checked Livetrans as the Threck went on:

  LIVETRANS: [Your] words flow like beautiful music that could inspire dancing. To speak is to think, [I] think, and Tom speaks Threck words. [Is it] respectful that [I may] call [you] Tom? [Do your] companions know how to speak words? From which winds [is your] faraway land? [Do you] cooperate? [Now you.]

  Thank you, Livetrans! Thank you, Minnie!

  Minnie had mentioned that Threck could be very “flowery” with their speech. “But,” she’d warned, “on the off chance we ever end up down there, don’t try to make up your own flourishes. They shouldn’t consider it rude—only uneducated, which is understandable for a foreigner, but not worth the risk.”

  Tom wasn’t sure if he was supposed to acknowledge the compliment, and then recalled another of Minnie’s tips: “Err on the side of not talking.” Now, this was mostly due to her assumption that she’d be on the scene in short time—that Tom would only have to stumble along for a moment or two until the real emissary arrived. Regretfully, Tom had expected the same.