Annulus Read online

  “Wow,” Arthur said in awe. “How do you know all that?”

  “Ugh, men!” Winter exclaimed. “My family has achieved great naval accomplishments. The highest of the Atlantean kingdom. We have won great wars you only talk about in legend.”

  “Right,” Arthur said, letting the young maiden have her spotlight.

  Her conviction was strong. This undoubtedly sealed in Arthur’s mind she was from a real past. She had memories and a soul as vivid as his.

  It did not bother him that she knew more than he did on the subject, save for the overt smugness she liked to exude. However, she was probably the closest expert in navigating this craft the best because of her background, and he would not squander any merit worth their talent. Besides, if she could learn how to harness her elemental power of air, then she could take them anywhere on the station with ease.

  Arthur jumped down from the craft while Liz tossed down the various supplies they’d found that could be useful for their quest. A few more aluminum bars from the wreckage came flying out first, a large flap from the wing, some random cloth, and finally, the steel pipe. The dull, dowel-shaped object caught Arthur’s eye, and he kneeled down, picking it up, and held the pipe out to Summer.

  His eyes especially focused on Summer’s deep crimson irises, while she sat cross-legged, less than thrilled that he was looking at her. He reached for some loose material Liz had thrown out that looked akin to fuzzy cotton. As he laid it in the ground, he pushed it down with the steel rod. The fiery red-haired sister watched, with a more aggressive attitude than her dark-haired sister, scornfully.

  “I suppose you want something from me?” Summer asked.

  Arthur smiled and reached into his pocket. He pulled out the azoth and slid it down the steel rod. Sparks skipped down the dowel and onto the fuzzy material, catching into small embers that brightly glowed on the ground. Arthur cupped his hands around the small fire as it caught, and then looked at Summer.

  “I need you to concentrate on your element like your sister,” he said. “If you can control it like you used to, you can be more powerful than anything in this galaxy.”

  He could see the enticement light up in her eyes, but she was not fool enough to roll over to him just yet.

  “Why should I help you?” she demanded. “It’s your fault we are here.”

  Deep down, that hurt Arthur, and he again reflected on what General Malick had proposed. But even if he was the genesis, one thing rang true: if they didn’t have a fire, they would freeze tonight.

  “Summer, I was acting on behalf of a company — Enconn and its founding religion was driving my actions. I know better now,” Arthur said. “So, don’t do this for me. Do it for your sisters. If we do not have a fire tonight, they will be popsicles by morning.”

  Summer looked at her sisters lovingly and then back at Arthur. He could see the power within her, even if she couldn’t.

  “I will do it, but only for them,” she finally agreed.

  “What about me?” Autumn asked Arthur, standing as cute as could be against the makeshift hull of the wheeled craft.

  Her lithe legs glistened in the Earthshine while she struck a coy smile that Arthur could only read as flirtatious. He could feel his heart beat like a drum inside his chest, and he acted on a whim, grabbing her by the waist.

  “As for you, my lady…” he replied, expounding with joy. “I will need your help with a task.”

  He picked her up and spun her around like a fairytale prince would his one true love, and she squealed in excitement, giggling with the glee and happiness she always portrayed. As he set her down near the two piles of stones and turned to the task, he looked over his shoulder and she met his eyes with ease. Ever since he’d first met Autumn, she had engulfed him with her enthusiasm, but now he needed her help with ensuring their survival.

  “And just like any good space opera story,” Arthur pointed to the rocks she and her sisters had gathered earlier, “I need you to focus on your element and try to move these stones like Master Yoda.”

  He chuckled at his own joke while Autumn did not get his vague reference. Her eyes grew heavy at the task presented for her.

  “I can’t,” Autumn pouted, vexed, plopping down onto her bottom and crossing her legs.

  Arthur kneeled down to her level and locked his dark brown eyes with hers. They were big as the moon with flecks of green like small emeralds. He had never noticed this before. He smiled, placing his hand on her shoulder.

  “Autumn,” Arthur said, raising his eyebrows in warmth as he lifted her chin up with a soft hand. “You are stronger than you think. Spring proved that you are more than just gatekeepers… You still have your elemental power. Perhaps you need to call on them a different way.”

  He grabbed her hands and turned them over. They were so young in appearance, with hardly a wrinkle in sight. As he ran his fingers over hers, he watched her even-tempered eyes steady.

  “Feel the energy flow through you,” he instructed. “It is a part of you. It always has been.”

  A fiery blaze shot up from behind them; Arthur and Autumn could feel the warm blast of air. They snapped their heads around to see where the commotion was coming from, and saw Summer on her knees, her hands over the small fire, and partially covered in black soot. Her eyes were like headlights among the ash that covered her face. She tried not to smile as the rest of the group set their gazes upon her and laughed.

  “Well,” Arthur finally said. “That’s a start.”

  Liz shook her head, piling all the materials on a scrap piece of plastic she needed for her filter. She looked at Arthur and nodded, tying the swath of plastic to small cables and dragging them out. Arthur accepted that it was time to work on getting water, and stood tall, following her.

  “We will be back with clean water soon, ladies,” Arthur finally said. “Try not to blow yourselves up.”

  All the sisters seemed to smile in unison, save for Summer, as Arthur and Liz headed off toward the nearest fumarole, which looked like a small pin on the sloping upward horizon in the distance.

  5

  A smiling endeavor

  The fumarole was massive when they arrived at it. As Arthur helped Liz pull the sheet of materials, his feet sank deeper into the ground — a sign of the damp geology below them.

  Sublimation — the process of a gas turning into a solid — was causing the formation of these ‘vents,’ which helped cool the white matter genesis taking place below. This process resulted in periodical water spout eruptions. However, this water wasn’t just scalding, face-melting hot, but irradiated. A dose of these isotopes, and a bystander could say bye-bye to their healthy cellular function.

  Liz adjusted her headpiece so she could see better and then looked down at the ground, mouthing numbers to herself.

  “Counting?” Arthur asked.

  “I’ve been watching from afar as we walked,” Liz explained, kneeling down, careful not to touch the wet sand. “It’s timing pretty consistently.”

  “That makes sense,” Arthur recalled, having helped design some nonessential parts of the station. “As the water heats up and cools down, it forms convection currents like an oven.”

  Liz said nothing, continuing to carefully count to herself. Arthur waited nearly a minute before he was too impatient to remain quiet.

  “How long do we have?” Arthur asked.

  The ground rumbled once more, but on a smaller scale than the earthquake that had shaken them earlier. Liz’s eyes widened, and she grabbed Arthur and pulled him away just as a jettison of toxic water shot from the stem of the fumarole.

  Steaming hot water rained down, but thankfully the wind carried it away from them. A brilliant array of colors formed in the shape of an upside down arc, seven colors in all. Arthur realized it was a rainbow in reverse.

  “VIB G YOR,” he said, reversing the famous acronym that helped him remember the colors of the rainbow. He then reviewed the physics in his head of how this phenomenon worked and why.
He then reviewed the physics in his head of how this phenomenon worked and why.

  “That is the craziest looking rainbow I have ever seen,” Liz said. “Why is it inverted?”

  Arthur looked up to the brilliant Earth shining above them, cracked a smile, and then spoke. “On Earth, you experience the rainbow phenomena depending on two criteria. Firstly, the angle of the sun. Secondly, the curvature of the sky, defining the arching shape.”

  “Right,” Liz said, his brilliant helper connecting the dots. “So here, the Earthshine above is our light source, and since the station is a convex shape, the rainbow inverts in my vision.”

  “That is precisely correct, Liz,” Arthur said, proud of her insight.

  The water calmed from the spout, and the brilliantly colored optical phenomenon disappeared. Though the colors faded, Arthur’s mood did not. It was time for business. The timing needed to be just right if they were to extract the clean water to survive successfully. He looked back to Liz, now unloading the rocks, pipes, and aluminum flap off the sheet.

  “We have about twenty-five minutes,” Liz said, pulling the metal flap over and reaching for a fist-sized rock. “I need that steel rod.”

  Arthur handed it to her, and she placed it onto two metal sheets. She raised the rock high into the air and slammed it down onto the end of the rod. The steel punched through the thin aluminum flaps with ease. She stopped and looked at Arthur, checking to see that he had seen what she did.

  “I need about a dozen holes punched evenly into these two sheets,” Liz said, handing Arthur the rod and rock. “You make those while I assemble the rest of the filtration system. May I have the azoth ore?.”

  Arthur reached into his pocket, gave Liz the black-as-oil azoth, and gallantly grabbed the steel dowel and rock like it was his livelihood, all while nodding to the fair lady. Liz hopped to her feet and got to work.

  Arthur admired her tenacity, brilliance and beauty. She was all he had ever wanted in a partner, and now they were here, in this predicament, knowing how they truly felt about each other.

  He watched as, one by one, Liz sorted the silt, rocks, and mesh cloth. As she squatted down, her shirt rose up and her pants dipped down, and he tried not to notice the two dimples in the skin just above her buttocks. Liz was far more fair than the sisters. Her skin blushed from the Earthshine, and Arthur was focused on the few small contrasting moles on her skin. One had a more strawberry hue than the others.

  “I don’t hear any hammering,” Liz called out.

  Arthur snapped out of his daydreaming and punched hole after hole. He kept each equally distanced from the next. As he reached the end of the sheet, he made his way up the other side, until he had perforated the entire thing. His hand ached from all the bludgeoning he’d done with the rock and rod.

  “There,” Liz said, walking over to him and folding her arms in satisfaction. Under the sheet they had used to drag the materials on, she had dug out a bowl in the sand to catch the water. “Now we need to insert your punched metal flap into the hole I cut, and pack the rest of the material down from the top.”

  Arthur nodded, handing her the sheets. She reached out and grabbed it from him, and they locked eyes for a moment. She smiled, and what water her body possessed moistened her upper lip, stressing its beauty. She pulled on the aluminum sheets, but Arthur did not want to let go of the fleeting moment. He let the force take him closer to her; she did not back away.

  In an exhilarating push, he leaned in and kissed her. She cocked her head slightly and pressed her lips to his. For just a moment, he thought of nothing but her. They kissed with all the passion of two star-crossed lovers who had been waiting the moment of consummation. She dropped the metal flap, and pulled him closer, excentuating a graceful movement and locking their lips passionately.

  The ground rumbled slightly underneath them.

  Liz broke the kiss and pulled away, grabbing the aluminum sheets. She jammed one into the side of the fumarole, where she had cut away a section with the azoth for it to slide in. The nanites quickly reformed around the plate locking it into place.

  “Quick, throw in the pebbles,” she ordered.

  Arthur ran to the stones, grabbing as many as he could. The fumarole was just above his head as he tossed the rocks in, hearing each ominous thunk as they hit the metal flap Liz was holding. Then came the porous cloth on top of that.

  “Good,” she said, releasing the metal sheet jutting from the fumarole neck. She made sure it would stay on its own, and then helped Arthur.

  “Isn’t the pressure going to blow this thing out?” Arthur asked.

  “Yes, but I am securing the filtering ingredients between the two metal perforated plates. The corners will be locked into the fumarole crust as the nanites build around it.”

  Soil went into the fumarole next, followed by scrap aluminum pieces, and then more soil. She threw in another cloth, to which she had cut holes in the fumarole to pull out the corners and anchor them with cables against the pressure.. The ground rumbled again, like a bellowing beast lurked below.

  Liz topped it all off with the other aluminum sheet to secure it and grabbed Arthur’s hand, pulling him back. They could hear the water gurgling up within the crust as it hit the layers. Liz watched anxiously as the aluminum wiggled in place. The sound of rushing water rose, and then the cables became more taut. In a matter of seconds, they would see if their attempt at a filter had worked.

  KSHHHHH!

  Glorious water, in an all its purified goodness, spouted upward and then down onto the bowl made of tarp, collecting and pooling. Arthur saw the odd rainbow once more. He couldn’t help but notice how it looked like a smile from an ancient deity, high above them, leering on their recent fortune.

  The sun was setting on Earth, which meant dusk for Arthur and Liz on Annulus Station. They were on their way back to the sisters, each carrying a part of the thin sheet of material, wrapped up like a balloon, full of drinkable water, ready to consume. The bag was awkward to hold, swishing its life-giving contents back and forth as they walked.

  Arthur looked up as the night sky of Earth setting upon them. Brilliant blues were transitioning to burnt oranges and fiery reds across the surface. Pink clouds popped against the deep blues of the ice caps and what exposed land he could see. The world turned away from the sun, readying for night to come. Soon they would be clad in darkness. Arthur hoped Summer would be strong enough to create a fire using the powers of her element.

  Arthur’s arms were tiring, and he knew Liz’s were not faring any better. He felt like weights were bearing down on his limbs as they made their way through the valley. Up ahead, they could see the faintest light. The flickering light seemed to grow as they journeyed closer — not as a result from perspective shifting as they approached, but because the fire was looming much larger in place.

  Arthur smiled, for he knew what was causing the rising flames.

  Liz finally took the last step to reach the fire and softly plopped down the bag of water, emptying its contents and trying not to spill their hard work. Around the fire were two makeshift huts, set far apart, formed out of the scrap the sisters had brought earlier. Arthur assumed one was for the girls and the other for him.

  The sisters surrounded a small fire pit, trying to keep warm by flames that rose from a small piece of fabric that Summer had been able to ignite. They wore scraps of scavenged material, hastily stitched together to retain what warmth they could from their bodies.

  They look like post-apocalyptic marauders.

  Their eyes were closed, so the women did not take notice of Arthur’s and Liz’s arrival. Summer had her eyes closed tighter than the rest, both hands in the air, and pushing slightly upward. The flames grew with her movement.

  She’s doing it.

  Autumn and Winter both had their eyes closed while they seemed to concentrate with their fiery sibling.

  “Sisters,” Summer said, pushing her hands higher. The fire grew with each inch gained in height. “Look
within.”

  Autumn’s and Winter’s eyebrows furrowed, and their lips pursed in frustration. Arthur sat quietly next to them, while Liz, unamused by the lack of reaction that she and Arthur had returned home with the goods, sat next to him.

  Summer continued. “I… I still feel her.”

  “Feel who?” Autumn asked.

  “Spring,” Summer finally said in a supernatural tone.

  Arthur looked to Liz in surprise and then back to the concentrating sisters, asking bluntly, “Where is she?”

  Summer snapped her eyelids open, breaking her concentration, and dropped her hands. The fire died down to a small flame that was now at the end of its life, floating away in embers in the subtle breeze.

  Arthur immediately felt the cold air as the fire died. Liz was quick to scoot closer to him for warmth.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked Summer.

  Summer was quiet and eyeing her sisters. Winter gazed into the fire with an empty stare, and Autumn was hesitant to look at Arthur and Liz.

  Arthur could tell Liz was getting riled up about something.

  “You ungrateful little…” Liz fired off. “Do you know what we had to do to bring you back this water?”

  “If Spring was here,” Summer countered. “We wouldn’t have to worry about water.”

  “I am sorry she is not, but I think--” Arthur tried to reaffirm, but was interrupted by Summer.

  “Because of you and your religious company,” Winter spat, turning her head to the star-studded city lights above. “Look at the Earth above. No longer is it the warm paradise that once cradled my people of Atlantis.”

  And then the situation was clear to Arthur. Summer was still angry and blamed him for the unfortunate loss of their sister Spring, and the fate of the Earth.

  If she only knew how much I am trying to care for all of them — how much I care for Autumn and Liz.