The Antarcticans (13 page)

“Welcome to Chimeruth.” She was visibly enthusiastic about this village, her clear-blue eyes lighting up, her voice taking on a nearly melodious tone. “When Lucifer first approached us for our ideas regarding a settlement built for humans, we did extensive research on which designs would make you feel most at home. Dr. Chimeruth, our most preeminent psychosocial planner, put this village together. It’s a charm to bring you here really. We’re so proud.” She was beaming.

Noila noticed the other humans were curious about their new group; some even waved and smiled. The Antarcticans gave shy quick glances and continued their business.

Vinettea pulled out a stack of ice cards with numbers chiseled into them and handed one to each person in the group. “The number for each of your accommodations.” She handed the last one to Noila. “I wish you a most wonderful stay in Chimeruth. I can be found in building two just outside the village gates if you need me.” She turned and disappeared into the lively streets.

Noila and the other scientists headed down the street. At the beginning of the village, there was only one line of buildings on either side of the street. As they explored deeper into the village, they came across small town squares, with great sculptures of things and creatures Noila didn’t recognize. There were rows of cafés and workspaces, restaurants and small shops where they could get anything at all made from ice, as well as small containers of H
_TM
O in its fourth state.

Noila picked up one of the containers. “Any idea what this is?” she asked one of the female chemists.

The chemist took it from her and looked at the molecular formula printed on the side.

“An old cure for all that ails you.” She laughed. “I’m not surprised to see superstition has even invaded Antarctica.”

Noila split off from the rest of the scientists and spent some time exploring on her own. The Antarcticans who worked in these areas were gracious and thankful for Noila’s visit to their shops. She found some of the comforts of her home; there were even a number of areas selling Indian food, which she loved. While thumbing through a pile of thick wool-and-fur hats, she saw the attendant crunching on something she was keeping behind the table where she sat. Noila kept shopping but was distracted by the small popping sound. It reminded her of the sound of Pop Rocks she used to eat as a girl. The Anrarctican who sat behind the counter didn’t look like Vinettea at all. She was stout, with ruffled shaggy hair. Her eyes were deep maroon, and there was a slight whine every time she exhaled.

“May I ask what you’re eating?” Noila asked.

“I’m sorry. I’m not supposed to be eating at work. Please, I beg your pardon,” she said.

“No, no. I don’t care that you’re eating. I’m just curious. What do Antarcticans eat?”

“Mega krill. They’re very large krill that grow in the cold waters here. I also have some sea plants.” She held up long stalks of dried, murky, green plants with bulbous outgrowths filled with yellow flowers. She held one toward Noila. “Go ahead…try it. The humans usually like the flowers the best,” she said, giggling.

The sea plant was crunchy, the flower sweet; it had the texture of ribbon candy or caramelized sugar; Noila couldn’t decide which. The crunch quickly melted into a sticky consistency that lodged in her teeth. When she looked up, the attendant was holding up a small plastic pick.

“You’ll need this,” she said.

“Thanks.” Noila took it and worked it into her teeth. She purchased a few of the items, surprised to see her credit cards worked here, and wished the woman well.

Eventually she found her way to her small house, which sat at the back of narrow walkway, a couple of rows of buildings behind the main road she had entered the village from. It looked like the rest of the Bavarian inspired-architecture. She checked the card Vinettea had given her against the number on the side of the building before knocking on the door. No one answered, which she supposed wasn’t surprising given that these were individual quarters. When she pressed the latch and pushed the door open, the warm spicy air greeted her. She quickly entered the cottage and closed the door behind her. A fire crackled in the corner inside a stone hearth. The stones from the bottom of the hearth fanned out into the room, ending with two overstuffed cognac leather library chairs. Red mohair blankets rested over the backs of the chairs, and a pair of moccasins with the same matching red hair lining them, lay on the floor. A loft bed was set against the wall, with a small desk underneath it. The desk chair was made of antlers.

Noila dropped her bag and walked through the door at the other end of the room. Where a bathtub should have been, there was a deep pool made from the same orange and brown stones as the hearth. Water flowed in from a small pipe at the end closest to her, and she heard the sucking of a drain somewhere else. There were no other faucets or pipes attached. She dipped her hand into the water, which gave off a sweet, sulfuric scent. The water was hot. She heard someone call her name from the main room.

“Noila, I hope this is okay,” Vinettea said, standing next to the door. Noila hadn’t heard it open. “I’ve heard this technology is considered intrusive by some humans.” She turned to the side at an angle where her mass disappeared and revealed herself as a holographic projection.

“Yes, fine, great. Thank you. Where and when should I meet up with the other scientists?”

“You can do much of your work right here. I just stopped by to point out some features of the room.” As she walked past Noila, her arm passed through one of the chairs, disrupting the projection. “Come take a look at this.”

Noila followed her into the bathroom.

“You’ll have to do this for me.” Her finger hovered over a button located next to the window.

Noila reached for the button and looked at Vinettea.

“It’s okay. I’m not really here. You can put your hand through mine.”

Noila reached for the button, her hand passing through the projection of Vinettea, and pressed it.

“Okay, step back now. See those two red tiles on the floor? Put one foot on each and don’t move.”

Unsure what would happen next, but very curious, Noila firmly planted herself on the floor. The walls began to creak; the sucking sound of the water grew louder; and the seams of the wall behind the mirror and sink became visible as it turned on an unseen axis. When the wall had turned 180 degrees, stainless-steel lab cabinets and a steel countertop appeared. A rack of test tubes and pipettes, all the basic lab essentials, and a few tools and machines Noila didn’t recognize sat upon it. The overhead lighting changed from the warm hues of the cabin to a bright, crisp, fluorescent light. While she was focused on the lab counter in front of her, the rest of the room had changed as well. The walls were tiled and contained small cubbies and drawers filled with research instruments. In the bottom of the large bathtub the hot spring had been feeding into, a deep echo rang out, and two long mechanisms that looked like stiff metallic hoses descended from the ceiling just enough so Noila could see them. Noila went over to it and looked down into the cavernous thin crevices descending forever into the Antarctic ground.

“You can’t see it, but there’s a vast lake of water below at temperatures below freezing. Because of some unusual natural phenomenon, the water stays liquid below zero degrees Celsius. I’m told it makes for a unique research environment. These Ptahs”—she pointed to the two metallic tubes in the ceiling—“can help you take samples there for experimental purposes. Just tell them what you need—they’re intelligent biomachines. This is all you should need from me.” Her white mane lifted up behind her, and the black dress she was wearing when she had first greeted the scientists was now violet, with crystal netting covering her upper chest, shoulders, and back. She shrunk to a pinpoint of light then vanished.

I wonder if
the extra-cold environment enables the quantum tunneling I learned about on the Viking?
Noila wondered.

A loud alarm sounded inside the cottage. Noila instinctively ran for the front door and out into the cold without her coat on. The village streets appeared as they had when she had entered her house. A very tall, muscular Antarctican came tearing through the streets in uniform, almost knocking her over.

He shouted at her, “Get inside your cottage before you get killed!”

The earth cracked beneath her feet, and she froze in fear.

Gavin was staring down the security guard, whose ill-fitting, stained jacket and slicked hair pulled into a ponytail reminded him of a mobster. The silver letters announcing THE SETAI were fixed to the wall behind the security guard with a small waterfall cascading over them, making them shimmer.

“I’m not leaving until you let me see him,” Gavin said.

“Sir, he isn’t taking guests today. You need to arrange an appointment and come back.”

“Then I’ll stand here and wait.”

“If you don’t leave, sir, I’ll have to call the police. You’re trespassing. This is private property.” He cocked an eyebrow.

Gavin ran to the elevator as one of the tenants got off. He jumped in and punched the “close” button. The doors closed, and he pressed the button for the fourth floor, where he knew he needed to change elevators to get to Lucifer’s penthouse. When the doors opened, two burly security guards reached into the elevator and pulled him out. They reeked of the same cheap cologne the front-desk security guard was wearing. They dragged him into a side room off the small lobby. There, they shoved him into a plastic folding chair, pointed hard at him as if to say, “Stay there,” then left the room. He heard the lock click on the other side of the door.

Ten minutes later the door opened, and Lucifer walked in.

“You know, Gavin, it’s a very busy time here. I really could do without the distraction of you showing up unannounced.” He pulled the other hard plastic chair toward him and sat down on it backward, draping his hands over the back and clasping them together. “What exactly is it you’re looking for that can’t wait a few more days?”

“I want to see my son now.” Gavin was staring hard at him.

Lucifer let out a deep sigh. “Did you read that Gospel I gave you?”

“Yes. What does that have to do with my son?”

Lucifer shrugged. “Maybe you didn’t understand what you read. In time, patience is a must. I ask very little in return for what I give, but I do need you to hold up your end of the bargain.” He gripped the back of the chair then leaned back into the air. “You see, when you want the best for someone, you do everything you can, but sometimes you must realize that someone else is better equipped to give them what they need. It’s why spouses leave each other, companies break apart, and governments break down. The world is full of incompetent fools who believe they’ve found the road to salvation and instead are just railroading themselves off the edge of a cliff.”

“Are you implying I’m one of those fools?”

“Let’s just say you aren’t working with full information.” He smiled then snapped his fingers. The door immediately opened. “Scotch for Mr. Pennings, and I’ll have the usual.” Seconds later, a houseboy served their drinks on a silver tray.

Gavin set his on the floor. “I don’t understand what the big secret is. Why can’t I see Joshua? He’s trapped on the
Dragon
, which I was unceremoniously booted off two days ago, and now I can’t get in touch with anyone about getting back there to see him.”

“Why don’t we do this…” Lucifer glanced at his yellow-diamond-encrusted Patek Philippe and thought for a second. “Come with me. I can show you Joshua. You don’t have to be on the ship to see him.” He stood up and walked out of the room. Gavin followed him to his apartment. They walked behind the kitchen and into a small room that contained a tall cylindrical glass tube. “Step inside. You need to take your shoes off first.”

Gavin stepped in barefoot. Lucifer waved his hand in front of the panel and said, “
Dragon
, room 428.”

Lucifer disappeared from Gavin’s sight, and the next second, he was staring at a white wall with a lab coat hanging on the wall. He could still hear Lucifer talking.

“You’re in your son’s room now. Move around like you normally would. You won’t be able to actually move or touch anything. The image you see of yourself is just a projection,” Lucifer said.

Gavin turned around and scanned the room. It was the same room he remembered from when he and Noila had last been there. Joshua was completely covered in the white scrim and was motionless. He walked over to him. “Josh, buddy, you doing okay?” He waited. Nothing. “Is he okay?” Gavin looked around the room, talking to empty air.

“I haven’t heard from Dr. Cristofari lately regarding his condition,” he heard Lucifer say, “but she has strict orders to inform me of anything that might jeopardize his well-being. I assure you he’s fine. Spend some time with him. I’m going to go attend to some other items. When you’re ready to return to my apartment, look at the palm of your hand and say the words you see.” Lucifer’s voice went silent.

Gavin sat next to Joshua. He told him what had been happening on the ship and said his mother was away. Joshua’s dog, Chelsea, was at home and doing just fine, albeit missing him and refusing to come out of Joshua’s bedroom, so Gavin had moved her food into the bedroom and forced her out only for her bathroom breaks in the yard. He whispered prayers over and over. When he had exhausted his words, he nodded off for a moment in the comfort of being so close to his son. He realized there was nothing else he could do for Joshua and he was undergoing the best care possible. Gavin looked at his palm, as Lucifer had instructed. The words “Do you believe?” appeared to be tattoed in the center. He read them aloud and was instantly on the floor of the glass cylinder in Lucifer’s condominium.