The Antarcticans (42 page)

She threw her head back and moaned in pain. “It’s time, Joshy. It’s time.” As she leaned back, the platform she was standing on transformed and cradled her back, gently easing her into a birthing position. “Lucifer should have given ya something. Give it to me, give it to me now,” she told him.

Joshua pulled the vials from his pockets and stood over her before uncorking the tops and gently pouring the clear liquid into her mouth. She drank them down, one by one, until all four were gone.

Margie held her belly, which grew so immense that her arms were fully stretched as she held her fingertips over the top of the anxious child within. As the bulge began to shrink in size, she screamed in pain, and then with one last labored huff, a ball rolled from her onto the floor, which was littered with broken lab equipment. It came to rest next to the back of a replicator. The inside of the ball became visible, and a bright light glowed within the newly created object. Joshua thought about his first training with Zhu, when he had expanded the orb he was chasing, transforming it into his world. He imagined the light of the world inside this new orb in front of him. The tightly wound, colorful bodies of the Ptahs squirmed and slithered, then broke apart, light bursting from their insides, shining on every surface of the cavern.

A small, white, furry creature lay at the bottom, whimpering and pushing himself along, trying to move.

Lucifer stepped from the wall where he was watching and put his arm around Joshua. “My son.” He nodded at the small creature and beamed with pride. He scooped him out of the orb and licked between his ears. He nuzzled his face against his, holding him close before he set him in Joshua’s arms, “The
Dragon
is waiting for him.” As Lucifer turned and made his way to the door, his rear leg was dragging, his breath punctuated and raspy. The center column opened, and Lucifer headed inside.

Joshua looked back at Margie, who lay limp on the platform, her arms dangling toward the floor. Her emerald shoes separated from her legs into pieces and dropped to the floor, turning back into individual Ptahs. They swarmed together and disappeared into the walls. Her legs and torso and then her arms dripped into the floor. Her head was left, cradled by a pillow beneath it. Her lips parted, and she smiled, her eyes locking with Joshua’s, and then her head disintegrated.

Joshua stared at the space where she had been. The small Srechritoris purred and licked his hand. He looked down at the creature; his ivory fur was surrounded by a blue halo. “Is this really…?” He looked at Addie, who had moved toward him.

“We can only take Lucifer at his word. He’s been trying to save us since we came into existence, so I have no reason to doubt him.”

A loud crack shattered the ceiling above them, and the sound of the Ptahs making their way back to the surface and toward the far colonies of Antarcticans boomed.

“We don’t have much time.” Addie pushed Joshua toward the door. The cavern was awash in red warning lights. They both ascended out of the cavern and ran across the collapsing snow and ice.

“Don’t get too close. Everything’s unstable now,” Addie said. He got on his stomach and pulled himself toward the edge of the ice shelf. Below, the
Dragon
was bouncing around in the water like a bath toy. “I don’t know how we’re going to do this. We can’t take the lifts. The tunnels are no longer operational,” he yelled through the fierce wind.

The baby Srechritoris Joshua was holding felt bigger as it pressed against his arms. Joshua looked down at him and watched the blue light that hovered over his downy fur inch farther away from the creature’s body. A flash of light momentarily blinded Joshua, and he dropped the cub as he fell on his back and shielded his eyes. He pushed himself up quickly and started digging in the snow around him frantically, searching for the Srechritoris. The blue halo had expanded to the size of an elephant, its light from inside pulsing; the Srechritoris had to be inside it.

“Go,” Addie said, pointing to the orb.

“What? Go where?” Joshua asked.

“He’s created a portal.”

“Where does it go?”

“Does it matter? Look around,” Addie yelled over the wind, which was whipping through them and over the edge of the ice shelf.

Joshua looked into the blue mist rising up from the portal, trying to determine where it was coming from. A depression in the snow beside him gave way, and a deep hole opened next to him. He jumped to the side, closer to the cliff. He glanced at Addie, who was urging him on. He closed his eyes tightly and leapt into the blue sphere.

The first thing Joshua heard was a gasping cough. Then he opened his eyes to see Lucifer, halfway between forms, clutching the sides of a chair with his massive paws and blue nails. The mist surrounding them was thick. Addie suddenly appeared next to Joshua. Lucifer nodded at them and pointed in the direction they needed to go. As they waded through the mist, the small Srechritoris ran ahead of them and expanded his halo again, creating a second opening. The cub jumped through ahead of them.

“How does he know how to do that?” Joshua asked Addie.

“Instinct,” Addie said.

Joshua immediately noticed an absence of chill in the air. The mist cleared, and he and Addie were looking out over the drowned remains of Miami as they stood on a concrete balcony hundreds of feet in the air. Their eyes darted about, taking in the flooded spaces between the buildings, where palm trees looked like lotus plants floating on the water. Joshua grasped the railing and looked out; he saw the
Dragon
in the distance, in what once had been the Intercoastal. He turned his back toward the portal, which had closed, and saw a sliding glass door leading into an apartment. He went through it and found his grandmother, Cathy, behind a bar. A portrait of Lucifer in both of his forms hung above it. She was leaning over the counter, swirling some ice around in her brandy. Joshua ran to her and gave her a hug.

“Everything is going to be just fine, little J.” she kissed his head.

A toddler, with white hair and caramel skin, peeked out from behind Joshua.

“Who’s this?” she pointed to the little boy.

Joshua looked down at the little boy and recognized his Antarctic blue eyes immediately, “He goes by many names.”

She took a sip of her brandy and patted the little boy’s head.

Books are not written by authors, but by the people in their lives who allow them the time to channel the stories that flow through them. First and foremost, I’d like to thank my husband, who has showered endless amounts of encouragement and support for my writing. My editor, Angela Brown, for the way she transforms my grand ideas into polished prose and brings experience and creativity to my work. And my mother, who knowingly or not, implanted the belief in my head that I’m capable of anything if I work hard and perservere, without which none of the success in my life would have manifested.

James Suriano lives in Washington, DC, with his family.

He is also the author of
Inbiotic
(2015).