Authors: James Suriano
“I’m sorry, but the time between the Great Episode and the Antarcticans’ ascension is too distressing for us Antarcticans to watch, so we’ve cut it out of the presentation,” Vinettea said, a look of sorrow streaking through her eyes. “It is available for viewing, however. See me after if you must. Now, this is our current state. We’ve been in a frantic race to understand the Great Episode so we can reverse it. But now we believe that it’s too late, that the earth’s warming will continue no matter what we do. We can slow it down, but we’ve gone beyond the point of no return for our species. Now we must focus on our adaption. Each and every piece of research is done with this goal in mind. Henri is a physicist, as you know. His area of specialization is in quantum mechanics. He’ll explain the connections between each of your pieces of work.” She moved to the side of the room and sat down.
Henri took the front of the room; his smooth black skin against the bright white walls made him almost look purple. His hair was cropped short, and his white fur-lined parka was zipped tightly, hiding his chiseled body.
His French accent made Noila and the rest of the scientists listen more intently to understand him. “It is the greatest pleasure that you’re here with us today and for the duration of this expedition. Each of you possesses a unique skill or piece of knowledge that will forward the cause of the Antarcticans and their quest to survive.” He continued on for several minutes, explaining the protocol of the experiments.
Noila discreetly pulled her phone out of her pocket. She turned it on and watched the service indicator remain on “Searching
.
” She missed Gavin and was second-guessing coming down here when Joshua’s condition was so critical. She needed reassurance that she’d made the right choice. She followed the group to another room in the complex they were in. Each of them was to pair with an Antarctican working on the same topic.
“I see you’ve made some progress at the lab in your cottage.” The voice of the Antarctican whom Noila was paired with resonated like a baritone singing into a deep well. He was at least two feet taller and wider than her. She backed up from him so she could see his eyes.
“I tried to get a head start, yes. Have you looked at what I’ve done already?” She was surprised.
He nodded. “Yes, I’ve reviewed the logs from the ship. Looks like you grasped the concepts of quantum biology very quickly. I also looked at the sensor we have floating deep in the well where your samples will run their simulations. It looks like you need some help understanding how to make that happen. I can help you with that.” He pulled up an image of the pair of long Ptahs hanging from the ceiling over the bathtub in her bathroom laboratory.
Noila sighed. “I couldn’t get them to work. They were just, well, flaccid, wiggling, tubes that did nothing.”
“The Ptahs aren’t machines. They’re living creatures. We use them quite a bit. You have to cuddle them into wanting to work for you. Once they love you, they’ll spend all the time you need getting you samples and doing just about anything else.” He pulled out a much smaller version of what was in her bathroom from his coat pocket then dragged his furry hand across the back of the orange Ptah. It shivered in delight and snaked through his fingers. As it disappeared up the Antarctican’s sleeve, Noila saw his hair stand up on the back of his neck and his lips involuntarily pull into a grin of ecstasy.
“I’m Addie,” he said. “Florencia told me you’re here by yourself, so if there’s anything you need, just let me know.”
Noila smiled warmly. “Thank you. I appreciate it. So what’s the trick with the Ptahs, since I’m at their mercy for moving my research forward?”
“Time, attention, touch, all the things
we
want. You’ll fall in love with those little fellas before you leave this place.” His tone was buttery and rich; Noila felt her head swirl in the mix.
“I…I…hmmm, I’ll give it a try. Did it just get dimmer in here?”
“Sometimes power gets redirected. Nothing to worry about.” The Ptah popped up from Addie’s collar and settled on his shoulder before rearing up in a cobra pose and swaying back and forth. “Sorry, he’s just being funny. They have a sense of humor, and this Ptah and I have been together for a long time. It’s hard to explain, especially to humans.” He rubbed the bottom side of the Ptah then returned to the image of the lab in Noila’s cottage and gave her some further information and advice.
Afterward, he walked Noila to her cottage so they could work on retrieving samples in her lab. When they arrived, he held the front door open for her. She thanked him and went in, then stripped off her coat and headed straight to the lab in the bathroom; Addie followed. The tiles had rearranged themselves, and it appeared as any cozy bathroom would. There was a fireplace, burning brightly in the wall above the bathtub, which she hadn’t noticed previously. The Ptahs, however, were nowhere to be found. Noila reached for the button that Vinettea had pointed out to her, when suddenly she felt the burning warmth of Addie press up from behind her and gently stop her hand.
“So anxious to get started on our work?”
Noila cleared her throat loudly. “I’m married,” she said.
Addie laughed heartily as he backed away from her. He was having trouble catching his breath from laughing so hard. “No, no, no” was all he could get out.
Noila’s face flushed in embarrassment. Had she been too presumptuous? “I’m sorry…I thought you were…” She stopped short of trying to put a description to what had just happened.
“Common mistake. We tend to be very close and affectionate creatures. Humans seem to interpret this as something…sexual? I think that’s the correct word.” He sounded unsure. “I was simply suggesting we plan our approach to serenade the Ptahs before we awaken them by changing the room into a lab.”
Noila let out a sigh of relief.
When Addie left for the night, after several failed attempts on Noila’s part to win over the creatures, she settled into one of the leather library chairs and poured herself a Scotch from the small collection of alcohol in the kitchen. She sipped quietly and let the first splashes against her tongue rise through her mouth and nose, pulling the flavor and richness from the golden liquid.
Gavin had poured her the first Scotch she’d ever tasted; she wasn’t much of a drinker when they’d first met, and she still wasn’t, but as their relationship grew, many of their nights were shared together over a long Glenlivet 21. It was expensive, but his mother’s drinking had necessitated the purchase of whatever was available within quick grab at Sechee’s Liquor Store. Mr. Sechee must have put all the expensive stuff up front near the register, because Gavin’s mom had more hundred-plus-dollar bottles of liquor than any other middle-class home in Florida City. Gavin hid the Scotch in the basement in an old crate. His mother didn’t seem to notice. It was more her compulsion to buy a bottle of “somethin’,” as she would say, rather than leave the heavenly liquor store empty-handed. This was always the reason. She was never interested in impressing a visitor to her house with an extensive bar of expensive spirits. It was a shame she just drank brandy now.
The first time Noila and Gavin had made love, Scotch was on their breaths, rolling back and forth over their tongues as they devoured each other. All the memories, every big moment—Noila could savor them and reel through them like an old home movie, with the Scotch she sipped right now the projector that displayed them in her mind. Joshua came into her view as an infant, the family gathering around—
her
family—Gavin off in the background of the memory. Joshua was sweet and quiet. The reel moved, and the years passed, Gavin acquired a bigger role at the church; Joshua got bigger too and more quiet. Noila would catch him talking to himself in his room and in private, and then in public. She would ask him who he was talking to, and he would tell her, “No one.” But she knew someone was there.
The fire crackled in front of her. She took the last sip and got up to pour another, adding a touch of water this time. She looked hard into the fire, focusing her eyes on the flames, and her vision became the memories again. Gavin was urging her into graduate school, even though Joshua was getting more remote in his behavior. She was sitting at the kitchen table, reading a biology magazine. Gavin asked her why she wasn’t pursuing her dream and what she loved to do. She felt guilty then, leaving Joshua, the same strings of guilt that pulled at her when she had left this time—to pursue a once-in-a lifetime opportunity that was getting stranger every hour she was here.
She dialed Gavin’s mobile over and over and got the same message: “All circuits are busy.” She set her phone down and made her way the bathtub. She filled it with hot sudsy water, turned off the lights, and climbed in. The Scotch had worked its magic, and she was awash in pleasant memories, her muscles gentle and relaxed; she suddenly felt the desire to sing pop songs from her high-school days. She put her head back and smiled as she sang, rubbing the smooth milky soap into her skin. The fire in the bathroom was still going, and the orange light danced across the walls in excited shapes and patterns. Noila sat up to shake out the moves of a song she had mastered in her bedroom one night during her junior year while the rest of her friends were at the prom. The muscles in her shoulders tingled and rippled, something the amber liquid hadn’t ever done for her in the past. She went with it, leaning into it, until something dragged across her back. It wasn’t painful—it actually felt kind of good—but it meant something or someone was there besides her, and her heart leapt. She closed her eyes tighter, hoping it was a phantom sensation. Whatever it was dragged back, so lightly, in the same direction. She whipped her head around, ready to fend off a deathblow. The two Ptahs retracted quickly and clung to each other in fear.
“Oh.” Noila covered her breasts in embarrassment. “So now you guys come out?” she said with a chuckle.
The Ptahs let go of each other and slowly came out of their retracted stances. The one closest to her was orange, the other green with orange flecks scattered about it. They lowered themselves down to her just in front of her face, their segmented bodies moving in synchrony. She reached out for the Ptahs and moved closer to them, opening her palm to welcome them to touch her. Each segment of their bodies was distinct and looked machined rather than organic.
“It’s okay,” Noila said. “You can touch my hand.”
The orange Ptah extended toward her and made contact with her palm. Covering each segment and connecting the entirety of their bodies was a thin clear layer of a soft, flexible plastic that made the visual appearance of separate pieces feel instead like a smooth, supple tube. Noila let the Ptahs slowly wrap around her hands then up her arms.
“What are you made of?” she whispered to herself.
The fireplace went dark, and an image of a chemical structure appeared on the screen in its place. Noila studied the structure but didn’t recognize the combination of elements. She strained her eyes, but the flecked Ptah moved in to touch her hair, which distracted her, and when she turned back to look at the image, the fire was burning again in its place. She let the question go and continued exploring the Ptahs’ bodies. They were still connected to the ceiling, and Noila could only see the ends she was interacting with. The last segment of their bodies was round like a head. The sheath that covered the rest of the body didn’t extend to the ball. It appeared connected but also seemed to be a very independent piece. This contrasted with the rest of the segments, which flowed in uniform motion. The ball of the orange Ptah began to spin, lifting away from Noila’s skin, the revolutions increasing until the ball became a whirring blur. An intense white light with a blue cornea lit up within the Ptah’s body then shot out into the air above the bathwater and projected the same icy white landscape Noila saw everywhere on this continent. But white fire was raining down from the sky, blasting into the earth, striking with the force of a meteor and throwing up clouds of ice and snow. The snow clouds around each of the impact sites blocked what was happening on the ground. Then she caught sight of one of the streaking lights from the sky, which had a Ptah body at the center of it.
Noila gasped. “What in the world is that?”
The image faded, and a new one appeared. It was a projection, shown from Noila’s perspective, as if she were riding on the back of one of the Ptahs. As the image raced through underground ice tunnels, a chill came over her. Ahead she saw a deep crystal-blue tail, thrashing and excreting liquid, some of it freezing in the air, some of it splashing against the cool ice walls and refreezing there like an added layer of paint. The tail turned up and drove through the tunnel toward the surface, chomping its way through the ice, until it broke through and landed on the snowy tundra. When the movement stopped, the snow and ice settled. The Ptah, which was the size of a tractor-trailer, was resting on the surface. The image vanished; the silver spinning head of the orange Ptah stopped; and the two creatures retracted into the ceiling, brushing Noila’s cheek as they went.
“Wait…I don’t understand. Don’t go yet,” she said to the ceiling. She felt she had just witnessed something unique, as if she had gone back to the African savanna and watched the first human ancestor take their first upright steps thousands and thousands of years ago. She knew she didn’t understand the world anymore, but she surprised herself by being more interested in experiencing it than understanding it.
…
Deep in the night, Noila’s phone rang. She groped in the darkness for the buzzing, flashing screen. Gavin’s name was displayed.
Finally
, she thought,
service
.