Facsimile (7 page)

“It’s probably gone.”

“No, I don’t think … ”

Smooth and silent, the creature rises again from the water. Its eyes focus on Dace for a moment. It rears back as he holds out the fone and snaps several shots in succession. Spinning about, the creature dives and slaps its tail against the surface of the lake, sending a spray of water over our heads.

Dace instantly curls over his instrument pouch, shielding it with his body.

“Mierda!” I sputter, wiping my face with one hand.

Dace straightens and looks up at me. “You got the worst of it.” A smile twitches the corners of his mouth.

“Shut it, Keeling. This is all your fault.”

“I hope so,” says Dace, rising to his feet. “I want to claim this discovery. Although,” he adds, with a quick glance at my face, “I’m willing to share the glory.”

“Glory?” I walk up to him, close enough to bump noses. “What’s so glorious about some fish-things living under our feet?”

Dace stares into my eyes, his lower lip rolled into a pout, his chest heaving. “Damn, you’re shallow, Ann Solano. Don’t you have any sense of wonder? It’s an entirely new species. Isn’t that amazing enough for you? Think you’re going to discover anything on Earth so unique? No, you won’t. Earth’s been explored and documented from one end to the other. This is new, really new.”

I shove him back with one hand. “Don’t lecture me. Sense of wonder? Yeah, I’ve got some. I wonder how I ended up on this godforsaken dead-end planet instead of Earth, where I belong. I wonder why I have no future. Take over the greenhouse from my grandmother—check. Marry some guy I’ve known all my life—check. Exciting future—hell no.”

Dace eyes me, his expression shifting from anger to confusion. “But you have options … ”

“No, I don’t.” I yank on strands of my damp, unraveling braid. “I don’t have options. Not like you. Not unless I get off Eco.”

“But this creature—who knows? Maybe it can mean something. Maybe it can help you, all of you.”

“How?”

“Researchers will come here. To study it. That means new people, maybe lots of credits if they need to buy stuff … ”

“Yeah, well, I prefer to take your uncle’s offer and leave, thank you very much.”

A splash. We turn to stare at the lake.

The creature has moved close to the rocky shore. I can clearly see its fish-like lower body and large, flexible tail fin. Dace moves forward as if drawn by an invisible string. He stretches out his fingers and touches the creature on its pointed snout. It opens its mouth.

I shriek and flail my arms, hoping to scare it away, but it simply examines us with bright eyes. Its open mouth displays rows of small but very pointed white teeth. I cross my arms in front of my chest and take two steps back.

A sound rings out—a reverberating sound, like a cacophony of bells.

I fall to the ground, heedless of the stone floor. Curling into a ball, I rock back and forth. That sound. That ringing sound—it travels throughout my body, like the steady pumping of my blood.

Light. Sun.

“Ann!” Dace’s voice is faint, as if he stands at some distance, though I sense him kneeling beside me. He places his arm around my shoulders. “What is it? Are you okay?” A little shake. “Ann, talk to me!”

Below. Water.

“Make it stop!” I’m shouting and I don’t know why. I pull away from Dace’s arm and cover my ears with both hands.

Air. Above.

Another fountain of water washes over us. Sputtering, I open my eyes.

There’s nothing in the lake but spreading ripples.

Dace crawls to the edge of the shore. He shakes his head and sends water flying in all directions. “Gone,” he says, his voice suffused with wonder. “I think it’s really gone. But where?” He raises his eyes and stares at the opposite side of the lake. “There must be a passage under that wall. A tunnel or something.”

I’m still rocking slowly, gripping my knees to control the trembling in my limbs. “Shut up and help me get out of here. Now.”

Dace jumps to his feet and moves swiftly to my side. He thrusts out his hand. “Grab hold.”

I take his fingers in a tight grip and he pulls me to my feet.

Dace looks me up and down before whipping off this jacket. “Here, this should fit. It’s yours, after all.”

“I have a jacket,” I say, once I still my chattering teeth.

“Now you have two.” Dace drapes the jacket around my shoulders. “What happened to you, anyway?” He motions for me to walk ahead of him as we move toward the inclined pathway.

“Don’t know.” I pull the jacket close about me, glad it’s made of a fabric that repels water. My jeans cling to my legs, chafing my thighs with every step. “But when that thing made noise, it was as if it went all through me.” I glance over my shoulder. “You didn’t feel anything?”

“No. I heard the sounds, of course. But it just seemed like barks and whistles to me, with some keening thrown into the mix. I did record a bit.” He pats at his waist. “Flicked on the holo. Hope it picked up the noises through the pouch.”

“Damn, Dace.” I turn my head and focus on placing one foot before the other. “You could think of that, but ignore the fact I was, like, writhing on the ground?”

“I ran to you as fast as I could.”

“After you got your recording.” I sigh in relief as we reach the entrance to the cave.

“Well, I didn’t know if I’d ever have another chance … ”

“Never mind. I get it—scientist first, always. No wonder you act like you’ve never kissed a girl.” I slide through the narrow opening and step into the light.

And promptly slump to the ground, falling into a different type of darkness.

Fingers move over my face, coming to rest on my lips. “Ann? Ann, are you breathing?”

“Could I answer if I wasn’t?” I swat Dace’s hand away.

“You passed out.”

“Yeah, genius, I did.” I struggle to a sitting position. “How long was I out?”

Dace stretches his arm behind my back to brace me. “Only a minute or two. Here—some water.” He hands me his flask.

After a few sips I pass it back to him, meeting his concerned gaze. “I’m okay. Must’ve gotten too hot or something.”

“Hot?” Dace snorts. “Hardly. It wasn’t warm in there, and anyway, we’re still pretty wet.” He fixes his brown eyes intently on my face. “Something happened in there, when the creature voiced those sounds. What was it?”

I snap the band holding my plait together and begin unweaving my damp hair. “Thought I heard something. Weird, like bells. Not what you heard, I guess.”

“No.” Dace adjusts his arm so I can lean against his shoulder. “Told you—I just heard whistles and barks. No bells, that’s for sure.”

“Well, not bells exactly, but reverberating, you know?” I sigh and run my fingers through my loose hair. “Guess you don’t. It was this strange sound that seemed to seep into my bones. And … ” I glance over at Dace from under my lashes, “There was something else.”

There’s the color rising in his face again. “What else?” He glances up and over my head.

“Words. No, not words exactly. But the meaning, the sense of ideas. Thoughts.”

“Your thoughts, or something else?” Dace asks, his eyes widening.

“Not mine. And not fully formed. Just this flicker, like an outline or concept.” I feel a tremor ripple through his shoulder. “Something about the sun, and light, and … ” I search my memory. “Above. Some idea of above.”

Dace says nothing. He simply searches my face for a moment, as if trying to see into me, to study me on a subatomic level.

“So what’s that mean, scientist guy?” I laugh, trying for lighthearted and hearing instead a trill of nervous agitation.

“Not sure.” Dace drops his arm and leans forward, reaching for his discarded equipment pouch. “Can I try something?” He holds up the device he used on the insect and lizard creatures.

I adjust my position on the hard ground. “Gonna put me in a bubble?”

“If you don’t mind.” Dace stands and holds out the device, waving it about like a wizard’s wand.

“Not sure, but go ahead.” I pull my knees to my chest.

A shimmer of gold swirls about me, casting a veil of light around my body. When I look toward Dace, I can see only a shadow moving beyond the globe that envelops me.

As swiftly as it appeared, the light dissipates and everything comes back into focus. Dace’s slender form is clearly etched against the pale gray of the evening sky. I watch as he manipulates the device with several taps and swipes of his finger.

“Anything interesting?” I rise to my feet, slapping at the dust shining like diamonds against the dark blue of my damp jeans.

Dace continues to stare into the small monitor, his fingers obviously manipulating data and images. After a few minutes, he looks up at me.

His eyes hold awe and wonder—the same expression that lit his face when we first saw the water creature. “Ann,” he says, in a voice that cracks with excitement, “it’s the same. Just a little bit, just a tiny snip of genetic coding, but … ”

“What the hell are you yapping about?” I stride forward, ripping the device from his hands. There are two images placed side-by-side on the screen. I know little of genetic markers, but even I can see a similarity—one significant spike in each image. “So what are these?”

“One of them is info I got from the water creature. The other one is … you.”

I stare at him. “That’s ridiculous,” I say at last. “Impossible. I’m human. That thing isn’t. Hell, it isn’t like anything on Earth. You said so yourself.”

“I know.”

“Your data must be corrupted.”

“It isn’t.” Dace slides the device back into the equipment pouch. “Your DNA displays a snippet of genetic code that matches that creature. Probably the reason you felt a connection when it voiced those sounds. You heard something else, some type of direct communication.”

I walk toward him, placing one foot in front of the other in measured, precise steps. Standing directly before him, I lean forward and grab the fabric of his shirt with both hands.

“You will tell no one.” I pull him close, until his face is only inches from mine. “Understand?”

“I must.” Dace’s whole body goes rigid. “It’s an amazing discovery. No way I’ll hide it.”

I loosen one hand’s hold on his shirt and smooth the crumpled fabric. “Just for now. Just for a little while.” I allow my fingers to slide up his chest, to rest under his chin. “You can put it all in your report, once you leave Eco. Use it to get a scholarship, I don’t care. But don’t tell anyone yet.” I stroke his jawline with one finger. “Okay?”

Dace swallows hard. “Why do you care? You’re probably not alone, you know. I bet whatever caused the mutation is tied to being born and raised on this planet. So everyone except the first colonists would be affected.”

“I don’t care about everyone.” I let go of his shirt and step back.

Released from my grip, Dace sways on his feet for a second. “I mean, you’re no different than most people on Eco. You’re not a freak or anything.” He rubs absently at his jaw, his eyes never leaving my face.

“I would be, on Earth.” I return his steady gaze. “Wouldn’t I? Maybe they wouldn’t even allow me, or my parents, to land. Not if they knew. Can you promise me that wouldn’t happen? I’ve seen the holodiscs, I know all about the genetic purity laws.”

“If they tested you … ”

“But why would they? Unless someone alerts the authorities, we’re in the clear. My family has the proper documentation, passed down by my grandparents. Certified one-hundred-percent human. And since my parents were born of those humans, they can claim all human rights, as can I.”

Dace sucks in a deep breath. “I want to study the creatures some more.”

“And you can. I’ll escort you back here every day. Hell, you can gather six billion terabytes of data for all I care. Just don’t squeal to anyone about me. Not until my family and I are living on Earth.”

Dace examines me—dispassionately, as if calculating my mass. “But once they know, they’ll deport you.”

Damn his logic. “I’ll worry about that when the time comes.” I hold out my hand. “Promise me you’ll stay quiet about this, just for now, and I swear you’ll have access to the caverns every day you’re on Eco.”

“But Ann, don’t you want to know what this means? I could run tests … ”

Do I want to know? This tiny change that turns my entire world upside down—do I want to know what it means, how it might affect me in the future?

“No.” I thrust out my hand again. “Promise.”

Dace wraps his fingers around mine. “Okay. I promise. For now. Until I can write up the full report.”

“Until my family and I are living on Earth.” I squeeze his fingers.

Dace gives a curt nod. “Until then.”

I drop his hand and step back with a smile. “Let’s grab the bikes and get a move on. It’s late. Your uncle will think I’ve already lost you.”

“Ann,” says Dace, as we stroll toward the bikes, “it isn’t a curse, you know. It’s more like a miracle.”

I grab my helmet by its strap. Allowing it to swing from my fingers I face Dace over the backs of the bikes. “Let me set you straight, Dacian Keeling. No one on Eco would agree with you. No one. In fact … ” a new strategy flashes into my mind, “there are quite a few colonists who’d kill you to keep something like that quiet. We’re proud to be human, you know. It’s one of our only sources of pride. Not something most colonists want smashed to hell.”