“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.