The Antarcticans (22 page)

“Hi.”

“Are you okay? Have they told you?” Gavin’s breathing was labored.

“What’s going on?” His voice was spooking her.

“The
Dragon
was hit by a tsunami and suffered heavy damage. The crew is fighting to keep us afloat. I’m with Josh.” Alarms and announcements were sounding in the background.

“Oh, my God, I never should have left you two there. But you’re both okay? Like completely okay?” She sat up in bed and swung her feet over the side, searching for her shearling slippers.

“We’re both fine, but I’ll feel a lot better when all the ship’s systems are restored. When are you coming back? They want to try some other experimental treatments with Joshua. I can explain when we aren’t in such a mess, but yeah, they—”

“Hello?” Noila pulled the phone away from her ear and looked at the screen: “Connection lost.” She slammed the phone down on the pillow, her heart racing. She got out of bed and paced the room before trying to reach Gavin again. The call wouldn’t connect.

The next meeting with Henri and the other scientists wasn’t scheduled for two days. Other than meals, the expectation was that she would remain in her lab and do her work. After two hours of countless redials, she put on her outdoor clothes and headed through the village, looking for any signs that other people were awake and might be able to help her find a way back to the
Dragon
. The sun was always up, and blackout shades covered all the windows she passed. The village was on a predictable work cycle, and it didn’t look like there were any early birds. The glass entrance to the meeting center was open. Noila went down the stairs and wandered through the empty rooms. She heard pots clanging in the restaurant, where there were always meals available, and a spring of hope opened in her.

She picked up her pace and came through the doors past the host stand. As she scanned the room, she saw that all the tables were empty, perfectly set for the breakfast crowd to come. Vases filled with small pink flowers sat atop each table, along with neatly placed salt, pepper, and sugar shakers. She made her way to the kitchen, where the noise was coming from. The two Antarcticans who were working spun around, startled, when Noila announced herself. They weren’t wearing any clothes except long aprons to cover their frontal fur. She noticed the Antarcticans who did manual labor had much thicker coats of hair. The younger one looked to be a female. Noila often had trouble distinguishing between the sexes, but she noticed the females’ eyes and ears were pitched more toward the top of their head, and their legs were generally longer and slimmer.

“Do you know what time Vinettea or Henri come here?” Her voice was desperate.

“If they come, it won’t be for a few hours. It’s very early. Why are you up? Something troubling you?” the male Antarctican answered.

“The
Dragon
is in trouble. My husband and son are on it. I really need to talk to someone about getting home.”

“Ah, I heard some rumblings about that come through the news feed. Want me to check on it?”

“Well, yes, but can you tell me where Vinettea lives?”

“Humans aren’t allowed in the Antarcticans’ living quarters, except by special invitation.”

“Do you have a phone or something I can call the
Dragon
with?”

“You might be better off just waiting until Vinettea gets here. Let me fix you a cup of coffee.” He wrapped his arm around her and ushered her out of the kitchen and nodded to the other Antarctican, who pulled out a chair for her.

“Here you go.” She placed a cup of coffee on a saucer in front of Noila. A small splash of the coffee hit the spotless tabletop. The two Antarcticans spoke to each other in their rapid ticks and taps and retreated into the service kitchen.

Noila, feeling helpless, sat and brooded. Her panic turned to nausea then to anger. The coffee helped, but the Scotch she’d had before she went to bed would have helped more. She heard something clacking against a table and some murmured excitement. She scanned the empty room for the source and found a small dividing screen with shadows moving behind it. She walked over and peeked around the corner. Four male Antarcticans were huddled around a table full of tiles. A row of tiles unseen to each of the other players was carefully being considered by each of the Antarcticans.

“What are you playing?” She was being polite, since it was clear she was interrupting them.

“Mah-jongg,” the oldest of the group answered. His white mane had gone sparse, his hands brittle and splotchy. “It was quite popular in your part of the world about a century ago. Do you know it, lady?”

Noila had never been called “lady” before, but she accepted it as a compliment. “No, I’m not familiar with it.”

“If you going to spend any amount of time here, take a look at it. It’ll help you win over the locals.” He smiled heartily, picked up a tile from his personal row, and set it down against the tiles in the center of the table.

“Do you know if there’s any way to communicate with the
Dragon
?” she asked.

“The what?” two of the Antarcticans said in unison.

“The ship my husband is on? It’s urgent.” She clasped her hands as if she were going to pray.

“No idea what you’re talking about. Now, I don’t mean to be rude, but we’re in the middle of a game,” the male sitting next to the oldest Antarctican gestured his furry hand around the table as proof of their current involvement in the game.

“Don’t be so bold.” The old Antarctican whacked his arm and pushed it down to the table. “She’s panicked, can’t you see? No sense stirrin’ her up further.” He looked up at Noila. “Apologies, lady. Sometimes Gresham has no sense about him.”

She left them to their game, returned to her table, and plowed through four cups of coffee. When Florencia walked into the restaurant at 6:30 a.m. for breakfast, Noila was wired. She didn’t recognize her at first because her braids were loose, draping over her shoulders like a shawl, and she wasn’t wearing her glasses.

Noila raced over to her and grabbed her arm. “Florencia, the
Dragon
is in trouble.” “Whoa, whoa, you okay?

“It’s Gavin and Joshua. I need to figure out how to get back to them.” She was holding Florencia’s arm as she walked toward the breakfast buffet.

“Sorry, but my connections don’t go anywhere. I’m an employee here but not with special privileges.” She pried Noila’s hand off her so she could pour some coffee into her mug.

“I’ll have another one of those,” Noila said quickly.

“You sure? Seems like you’re hopped up on something. Caffeine might throw you over the edge. Maybe you should just chill out for a bit? You can’t get off the shelf whenever you feel like it. It’s a commitment. Like we talked about.” She mixed some cream into her coffee and swirled it around before pulling the spoon out and licking off a few drips of the brew.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be so frantic, but this is urgent. Who could I talk to? C’mon…you’ve been here longer than me.”

Florencia sighed. “Maybe Vinettea could help. I don’t really know her much beyond her role as a coordinator. I’d say Lucifer is a better bet, but I don’t think he’s scheduled to be down here anytime soon, and if what you say is true about the
Dragon
, well, he’s probably dealing with that mess.” She guided Noila to a table, her hand on the small of her back.

…

When Addie went to Noila’s cottage to start on their project, he heard her screaming from somewhere in the house. He knocked several times then cautiously made his way through the cottage and into the bathroom.

“Something wrong?”

“They won’t come down. What should I do?” She was pointing to where the Ptah resided. She looked at Addie with a confused expression. He was wearing a long, royal-looking orange robe; his mane was brushed fully out, and a small golden cord, which originated from somewhere in his head, was wrapped gently around his thick white hair. His hair was swept back, and she could see his full face. His eyes were wide and clear; they picked up the orange from his robe and resembled a burning fire. His ears were in line with his temples and pointed back, as if he were rushing through a brisk wind. He appeared fierce and magnanimous at the same time.

“Maybe stop yelling?”

“I suppose, but I’m just so frustrated with this place.”

“What do you mean, this place?”

Noila explained her predicament then let out a long sigh. “I have to get home,” she said. “I don’t care how it happens or who I piss off.” She realized she was being rude, insulting Addie’s homeland, but her fear was overriding her usual etiquette. She sat down on the edge of the bathtub and put her head in her hands.

Addie sat down beside her, put his hand on her inner thigh, and pulled her close. From the corner of her eye, she saw his massive body take up her field of vision. An enchanting spice she couldn’t place filled her nose. As she breathed it in deeply, over and over, it cleared her head and mind.

“I can’t help you leave, but I can help make your stay a little better,” he said, pulling her in tighter, the warm orange velvet outlines on the robe rubbing against her skin and electrifying her. The spicy aroma faded, and his strong natural scent wrapped around her. She’d never felt so safe before.

“Last night the Ptahs came out,” Noila said. “They showed me things, some unimaginable…images and movies.”

“Yes, they talk in images. Sound is something they haven’t mastered. Did you understand what they were telling you? They’re very old—some of their references can be dated and confusing for humans, since your lives are so short.” Addie looked up at the ceiling, where the orange Ptah was poking its shiny steel end out. He smiled at it and beckoned it down.

The Ptah slowly descended, all the way down to the floor, then slunk along it. There was a click, and its tail descended too. Noila saw the end of its tail, where there was a small port. She looked at Addie. “Are they just machines?”

“No. Not in the way you’re thinking. They have a life-force, relationships, hopes, visions, accomplishments, disappointments. They’re alive.”

“Were they created?”

“Yes, by someone—we’re not sure who. My people evolved them to help us build the infrastructure here, to dig the tunnels, and to shape the ice we live in. When that task was done, some of the larger Ptahs went to work in other industrial capacities, while others were taken as companions in our homes. They kept evolving, though; their original programming was expanded, and then some genius programmer on the
Dragon
by the name of Emma worked on the code to leap them over the biggest hurdle and bring them to consciousness. They keep evolving; many of them have lost their ability to create tunnels or do any type of the original work they were designed for.”

The Ptah spun its head, and the white light burst out and onto the wall. A projection showed it burrowing, creating a structure underground, with delicate finishes and furniture. It rapidly installed components throughout the structure. Then the image displayed a research bay on a ship, where Emma, Dr. Cristofari’s sister, was madly working on code; the orange Ptah was plugged into a terminal she was working on. In the next projection, the Ptah was coiled in the corner of the lab, sleeping or quiet, while the room was dark, and then, in a flight over Antarctica, Emma opened the cargo-bay door and pitched several of the Ptahs out from five hundred feet, and they undulated across the surface of the Antarctic, no longer able to burrow into the ice shelf. The Ptah’s spinning head stopped, and the projection collapsed into a point of light.

“They must have a connection back to the ship!” Noila jumped up.

Addie shook his head. “It’s unlikely. Let’s start our work. Worrying about this isn’t going to change anything.”

Noila stared at the wall for a second and spun her gold wedding band on her finger as she thought her way through the chain of events that might lead her to a connection with the ship. And then she remembered something. “Lucifer told us there was a virtual chamber here that we would be able to use to communicate with the ship? Do you know where that is? They never mentioned it to me when I got here. I’ve just relied on my phone.” Her hope was dying; she felt the pit in her stomach growing larger.

“No, I’m sorry.” Addie moved to the wall and pushed the button to convert the bathroom into the lab; his floor-length robe made him look even taller than he was. His muscled feet poked out from under the robe. They were great paws covered in light-brown hair, with four long segmented toes, much like those of a lion or jaguar, with light brown pads. He followed her eyes to his feet. “Are my feet distracting?”

“Oh, ha-ha, no. It’s just…you’re so…magical looking, like something I read about as a kid.” Her face flushed.

He smiled. “Maybe your childhood fantasy tales weren’t actually fantasy?”

“It seems I’ve had to reconsider a lot of what I’ve believed lately.” Noila started to set up the equipment then bent down to the floor to the Ptah. “Do you think you could help me put the virus samples in the water source below us?” she asked. She showed the Ptah her tablet, which displayed the depth and temperature she needed.

The Ptah slipped beside her, and one of the segments on its back opened to reveal a small empty space. Noila pulled the solution she had prepared the day before from a compartment in the photon chamber and placed it inside the head of the Ptah. The segment closed, and the Ptah coiled into a tight spring then launched itself off the floor, over the side of the tub, and into the open chasm. She heard the free fall of its body through the stagnant cold air as it plummeted thousands of feet into the earth. The sound evaporated into nothing, like a mosquito that flies close to one’s ear then disappears into the night. A few seconds later, Addie’s left ear perked out of his hair.