“Wasn’t it just bokeh?!” Zisa had replied.
A) Minnie hated when Zisa tried to casually add into station vernacular the “new” 20-year-old Earth slang she’d just acquired from a supply pod’s catalogue, as if these were normal words that everyone used on a daily basis.
B) How many actually useful things could Minnie have read/done/watched/played instead of reading this crap?
“You know, because you talk about insomnia sometimes, and because we’ll never have babies.”
“You’re an idiot,” Minnie had replied.
What an absolute bitch Minnie had been. What the hell could Aether have possibly seen in her? Her delusion about John and Aether conspiring against her maybe wasn’t so loonish. It seemed like they were all such close friends, her clique—Minnie, Tom, Angela, Pablo, Qin—but was she just the station bully, and they were the ones sure to remain on her good side? Conversations outside her presence… What happened in those? And not just John and Aether. Had she ever snapped at Tom? Qin? Did Qin hate the nickname Chinstrap? Was it racist? Did Minnie’s occasional Ish snubs contribute to Ish’s withdrawal and isolation, essentially pushing her into her fantasy world, placing responsibility for this entire situation squarely on Minnie’s shoulders? It all seemed very, very plausible—nigh conclusive. Aether and John would do anything to ensure crew—community—wellbeing.
Or were these thoughts more chemical demons, the initial signs of her next full-on attack? Were Fitchsher and Onjr, and Leeg even real? An intelligent, friendly Hynka nuclear family of interbreeding Oss Khoss and Khoss Feej—Greaters and Lessers—sharing with her a pleasant artificial campfire in the middle of nowhere? Sure, that all sounded perfectly legit.
She’d felt the familiar trickle of endorphins the night before, communicating with the Hynka. Her glands had recharged. It would be a little early yet, but she was primed for another episode. However, this awareness only served to validate her questionable suspicions. It was too soon for her thoughts to be paranoid or delusional. Her judgment was clearly sharp.
Oh, really? So was it mere lack of sleep that led to Zisa’s book, leading to guilt and insecurity, doom and gloom, John and Aether? Real sharp, babe.
Minnie looked up at the Hynkas’ backs, Onjr with a cautious arm floating near Leeg, ready to help her along if she faltered. Leeg, her lumpy, pregnant pouch hidden beneath a freshly sewn fur cloak.
What would be the fallout of Minnie sharing such technology with them? And did she really care? Tear some thin strips, take a sharp tooth, poke holes in the skins, stitch. Was it like handing a nuke to tribals? Please.
Now she was exchanging other survival skills. Their insistence on continuing north would lead them to certain death, but maybe her lessons would help to delay it a bit.
She glanced up and saw up ahead the cave from her map.
“There, wall, hole,” her PA called out to them.
A few minutes later, Fitchsher said, “Uh pohtz.” He was pointing to the cave.
Minnie added pohtz:cave to the DB. Overnight, she’d grown the catalogue by more than 200 words.
She pointed to the cave, testing the new word. Fitchsher confirmed she said it correctly and lumbered on. It was fun for Fitchsher. He was very childlike, maybe around three years old, she guessed by his size.
And Onjr, a full meter taller, fingers and thumbs riddled with scars—Minnie got him, too. Just a surly, impatient, protective husband and father without a verbal filter: “Yeah, I’ll say it—she smells like damned food, okay?” And it was true. Not only was her environment shirt specked with dry milk from her delightful nursing session with Mama, but she’d had an unsealed pocket full of bunny jerky. They’d all had the Hynka equivalent of a good laugh about it, later that night.
It was hard to form much of a read on Leeg, other than seeming to be in charge and in pain. She was worried for her baby’s survival, while somehow certain that it would grow into a disloyal, murderous thing. Apparently, she had little faith in her parenting skills, even with such a fine lad as Fitchsher to prove her abilities.
Fixated on Onjr’s attentive hand, Minnie wondered if the Greaters, as a breed, would really go extinct, and if they’d take the Lessers down with them. A village of ostensibly enlightened Hynka like this family could launch a highly advanced civilization. Then again, they exhibited intelligence and behavior unlike any Greaters or Lessers that Ish (or Minnie) had observed. They’d somehow taken a giant step ahead of their species. Onjr had also tried to explain this the night before, but the DB simply didn’t have the vocabulary to extract an intelligible interpretation. He’d mentioned a place name, times (before and after the place), and indicated Fitchsher’s size back then. All Minnie could extrapolate was that Onjr and Leeg remembered thinking one way, went to some “red place,” and then thought another way after. It smelled of religion, but she really had no clue.
If this family actually represented some leap in Hynka evolution, the Greaters were still the prevailing force—a crushing foot upon any subversion by passive progressives of either breed. Harsh reality: nature troubles not with justice.
Inside the cave, Minnie highlighted a precarious slab in the roof. “Bad. Fall.”
Leeg rested her legs in a large nook at the deepest end, leaning on a shoulder. “Stay here.”
Minnie knelt down and brushed some rocks aside. A thin sheet of ice lay above sandy soil. She broke the ice and examined the soil. Saturated.
“Bad cave,” Minnie said. “Water come from there. Big water.” She mimed a crashing wave and water rushing in.
Fitchsher copied her wave gesture. “Rwitz pyj. Pyyyj.”
She added pyj:wave to the DB. “Yes. Bad wave. Water close bad.”
Onjr pushed a mass of smooth rocks gathered along one wall into a pile at the cave entrance, building a small wall. He looked at Minnie and hung a hand a meter above the mound. “Wall. No wave.”
Minnie stepped to the outside of the pile, gently pushing the loose rocks with her boot. “Wave strong. Wall weak.”
Onjr snorted and swatted the top of the heap toward Minnie. A dozen strikes against her legs; only a clap against one kneecap smarted.
“No!” Fitchsher barked at his father.
Onjr grumbled and went to Leeg.
“Onjr stop,” Minnie said. “Minnie show no fire.”
Hearing this threat, Fitchsher tramped to Onjr. “Nnn-nee show no fire! Onjr bad!” He shoved Onjr’s back with a violent shoulder, inadvertently pushing him toward Leeg. Onjr stopped himself with a foot against the wall.
Crap, not another fight.
“Minnie show fire!” she announced as Onjr righted himself. “Show fire now. Come.”
Both males stared at her with glistening eyes.
“Show fire now?” Onjr said.
“Yes. Come.”
As if the conflict had never begun, Fitchsher strode toward her, and Onjr aided Leeg to her feet.
Epsy’s first dysfunctional family.
With the morning sun in their eyes, they exited the cave.
An eager Fitchsher gestured to the ground between them. “Fire here?”
“No.” She picked up a rock and asked what it was called. “It?”
“Khohsh.”
“Rock fire no.” She pointed to a band of brown soil up the cliff face. “Dirt fire no.”
He understood. “Yes. Fire no.”