The Ocean
a/n: Theoretical scene from my four-book series "Worldwalker." Sam has come very very far in his journey to save earth from an invasion of titanic sea creatures, and is finally close to the end, with an angry, vengeful alien as his only companion.
“Do you think I have a family? Does anyone miss me?” Sam asked mildly, interrupting the voice in his ear. Zekoa, for once, stopped talking. The silence dragged on, and Sam kept walking. No reason to stop.
“All this time, all the things I’ve said, these are the first words you say to me?” There was a sneer to the tone, but Sam didn’t mind. He didn’t reply either. Finally Zekoa sighed.
“Maybe. How should I know? I don’t care. You’re here to do what I tell you. That’s the only way we win.”
“Okay,” Sam said. There was a pause.
“Why now?” Zekoa asked at last, and Sam stopped walking. His limbs were heavy. He couldn’t exactly recall the last time he’d sat down, only that it had been long before this desolate place.
He sat down.
“Why are you talking now?” Zekoa asked again. “I was beginning to think you didn’t know how.”
“I remembered something,” Sam said absently. “Then I forgot it again, but I still remembered that what I forgot was a memory of something good. Family. And I started to wonder about mine.”
“And you want to save them, correct?” Zekoa’s tone came alive again, seeing an opportunity to goad Sam to action or anger. Sam shrugged.
“Yes. But I want to save everyone, and I can't remember my family. So I don’t feel more for them than anyone else.”
“You won’t save anyone sitting on the ground,” Zekoa said. “Get up. Keep walking. If you destroy the core, all those monsters die with it. Put a stop to this.”
Sam rose to his feet. The fog clung dense around him, like a physical weight, but somehow it had stopped pulling at all. He felt lighter now. His steps dragged less. He might have been able to fly.
“Hey. Get up.”
He blinked, and he was still on the ground. The fog still dragged at him. Worse now, if anything. The image of himself walking vanished like vapor, and he couldn’t summon enough strength to bring it back, much less actually stand.
“What do you think this place looks like without the fog?” he asked. With Herculean effort he dragged his knees to his chest and hugged them. Zekoa’s impatience thrummed in the air around him, nearly audible.
“Who cares?” The voice was snapping with rage. “You’re quitting. You’re not allowed to quit, these monsters took everything from me…from us! If I am to be nothing more than a voice in your head for the rest of my miserable life, I want to see vengeance. Stop giving up.”
“I’m not giving up,” Sam replied patiently. “Your…people. They all died because of this, it must be hard for you. You were their guardian after all. Would you have preferred I left you to die with them? I was trying to be kind by saving you.”
“You can’t begin to understand what the Mind meant to me,” Zekoa spat. “I was tasked with their wellbeing, they were my responsibility, my people. For hundreds of years I heard their voices, their every need, always in my head. All I hear now is SILENCE. You wouldn’t even talk to me. Now that you are, I don’t want to hear it. I lost my colony, I lost my home. I don’t even have the dignity of a body anymore, I’m just an entity in a tiny chip in the helmet of this stupid suit keeping you alive. Every second you spend sitting here is a second you’re robbing me of justice.”
“Do you think your colony will know we won? Will it matter that you got your justice?” Sam asked, looking up at the dense ceiling of blue fog that sat perfectly motionless an inch above his nose. It was so thick he would have lost his hand if he’d held it out in front of himself. It was easy to ignore Zekoa’s growing hostility. The creature had every right to be angry after all, and Sam didn’t mind.
“Why are you asking all these stupid, unimportant questions?” Zekoa asked, his rage boiling over as his voice rose to a screech that hurt Sam’s ears. Sam winced.
“I dunno. I just…” Sam took a breath in, the words bouncing against the glass of his helmet and fading with the promise that only he and Zekoa could hear them. “I’m going to die, aren’t I?”
Dead silence followed. Sam let out the breath he’d been holding, the weight lifting as he finally said it out loud.
“Wow. That feels better. I think I’m good to keep goi-”
“You don’t die,” Zekoa said, and now he was quiet.
“Well, sure I do. I’m human after all, I’ll die someday.”
“Yet you’ve made it so far, against impossible odds. You’ve defeated monsters bigger than planets. I found you on an island of their corpses drifting through space, or do you not remember that? Even now I suspect any other of your species would have succumbed to this realm’s poisons long ago. You’ve been foretold, you must fulfill that prophecy.”
“Yeah, well.” Sam pushed himself to his feet, refusing to let himself stagger. “I can't fight air. I don’t think this poison is treating me well.”
“Is this why you’re talking now?” Zekoa asked.
“Maybe. I don’t really know. Maybe I’m imagining all this. It seemed easier to break the silence when I’m not really sure what’s real anyway.” Sam forced himself to walk again, ever deeper into the choking fog. The air tasted bad.
“I won’t let you die,” Zekoa said.
“I miss my home,” Sam said, ignoring Zekoa. “I don’t even remember anything about it. It seems blue to me though. That's a good color.”
“You’re from Earth,” Zekoa replied. “I think that planet is traditionally green.”
“Hmm. That’s alright too. See this place, it’s just blue fog and flat rock, I can’t put a color to it.”
“I believe you just did.”
“No, no, it’s not actually blue though. This place is colorless inside. Not like earth. Earth had every shade of blue, and every texture too, now that I’m thinking about it. It’s like…water. So much water. Beautiful. Do you think I’ll see it again before I die? Earth I mean. Like, my life flashing before my eyes?”
“I won’t let you die,” Zekoa repeated firmly.
“I reckon everything might come back, all my memories,” Sam said, almost wistfully. “Right before I go.”
“Shut up! I won’t let you die. You’re not leaving me all alone like this,” Zekoa snarled. “We’re finding the source of all the madness, and you’re killing it, and then you’re staying alive. Do you hear me?”
Sam did not hear him. For just a moment, the world around him was replaced by a memory. The poisonous taste in the air fell back under a new, stronger sense, cleansed by salt and brine. A deep, slow rumble and hiss rose and fell, slowly surrounding him in its soothing embrace. It cooled his pain, washing away the exhaustion and renewing him. He took a breath, and opened his eyes without realizing he’d closed them. A vast, glittering blue stretched out ahead of him, waves rising and falling playfully as if beckoning to him. Foam flicked through the air in showers of white froth that flashed in rainbow as the light caught it and playfully tossed it back. Foam frosted each wave in webs of fractals that faded into the deepest sapphire, turquoise, emerald, amaranthine. Light danced and dazzled, sparking up and over and in constant motion with the living thing in front of him. He stepped into it, the waves rising to his waist, to his chest, until it swallowed him whole, letting him kick away the last of his own weight and drift at the whim of the water. The light sparked across the surface above him and now all he heard was the thundering breath and heartbeat of this loving creature. He closed his eyes as hundreds of tiny bubbles swirled to meet him and tickle his bare skin. All fell still, silent, and perfectly peaceful, marine colors coalescing into one pure memory of the only place he’d ever found true peace. The ocean.
Sam smiled, opened his eyes to the land of poison fog, and didn’t speak again.
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