The Farpool (64 page)

“
The em’took procedure has seven
stages:

The entire procedure would take two days.

As the
em’took
was progressing, Kloosee and Klektor,
with help from Pakma and others, wrestled the pod into the Notwater
chamber. The chamber had to be assembled and mounted just outside
the Kelktoo spaces, now fully exposed to the rain of debris and the
steady drone of the wavemaker. But it couldn’t be helped. There was
no room inside the lab.

Once the Notwater chamber was up and
operating, it was pumped dry and filled with air. Then the
em’took
pod, with Angie still
inside, was inserted and fastened down. When Angie awoke, she could
then emerge into a breathable atmosphere compatible with her
biology.

That was the plan.

Chase followed Longsee and Kloosee
about the lab, helping them to clean up trash, re-sort equipment,
re-stow gear, always with questions.
What
could happen? What could go wrong? What will she look
like?

Finally, Longsee had pity on the
anxious
eekoti
. “Chase, only
Shooki knows what will happen. The organisms are programmed and
designed to do their job. We’ve taken every precaution we can
take…if the scan is bad, if the sequencing is bad, if the
took’te
are corrupted, we’ll know
soon enough. Be still and let us work.”

Chase knew there was no way he could do that
so he held his tongue and busied himself with helping others. And
when the tension and the waiting became unbearable, he left the
Kelktoo and spent time with Kloosee just roaming about the damaged
city. They said little on these short jaunts.

Finally, the time came.
Em’took
was over. Chase asked to be
inside the Notwater pod when the cocoon was opened…in fact, it was
Longsee who instructed him on how to do that.

At Longsee’s signal through the translucent
curtain of the Notwater chamber, Chase pressed the controls along
the side and the pod hissed and began slowly coming open.

Inside, as the top split apart—it seemed to
take forever as the fibers parted-- Chase saw first a pair of
hands, no longer scaly, but faintly blue in the cold, then an arm,
then another arm…again no scaly armor visible so far…just a fine
bristle of hair.

His heart missed a beat. Now the cocoon came
fully open. Angie’s eyes blinked, her face was momentarily in
shadow, then he saw her.

It had worked! The
em’took
reversal had worked. Chase grinned so
wide, he felt like his face would split in half. He reached in,
seeing her eyes flutter and open fully.

She was more beautiful than he remembered.
There were a few things not quite complete. Her hands still had
some light webbing between her fingers. Her ears weren’t quite
right. Maybe it was the light.

Angie hoisted herself up on her elbows. Chase
bent down to give her a kiss, but she turned her head.

“Eeeewww
! Get
away from me, you slug!”

Chase had forgotten what he looked
like. Still, he held her hand. The
em’took
reversal had worked, mostly.

“How do you feel?”

Angie yawned, stretched. “Like I just ran a
marathon. My head hurts, my hands and feet hurt, my ears
hurt…everything hurts. Is there a mirror around here?”

“No…but you look fine. The procedure worked.
Longsee, Kloosee…they made it work. You’re back to looking as hot
as ever.”

Angie made a face. “I don’t look like a
whore, do I?”

“No more than usual. Come on…get up…we’ve got
to get you into this lifesuit. Longsee wants to flood this pod as
soon as possible.”

She struggled to her feet and swayed a bit
unsteadily, as she let Chase zip her into the bulky lifesuit. He
checked connections and regulators…the suit was Seomish design but
it was still diving gear. Chase was good with diving gear. She
lowered the helmet down on her neck ring and they made sure it was
fast. Chase knocked on the side of her helmet,

Angie gave him a thumbs up. That’s when she
realized there were eyes staring at them, from just beyond the
translucent veil that was the outside wall of the Notwater pod.

Just like a
zoo
, she told herself.
Girls
are always on display, even here. Especially when they’re naked and
hot like me.

Chase gave a hand signal to Kloosee, hovering
just outside the hatch. Moments later, the wall fibers contracted
and water became pouring in. The pod was flooded in minutes and the
walls peeled back like the fingers of a big hand opening.

Chase led Angie out and the two of them
made their way back inside Kelktoo. Longsee and his scientists
wanted to study their handiwork…pleased that the reverse
em’took
had gone so well.

“It’s a breakthrough for us,” Kloosee
admitted. “Now we know
em’took
can be accomplished in both directions. That’ll make living
in other seas easier, for everybody.”

“You mean like the seas of Earth?” Chase
asked.

Kloosee didn’t reply to that.

Unknown to the Kelktoo staff, who spent
hours with Angie, examining everything from head to foot, the Metah
Iltereedah had quietly made her way from her court-pavilion, now
partially covered in mud, to a small
em’kel
wedged into a narrow cave halfway up the
T’or seamount, across the great valley and away from the worst of
the landslides. The
em’kel
was called
Ot’lum
Tek’ek
, which means “Scent Memories.” This
em’kel
was devoted to making,
enjoying and distributing scentbulbs throughout Seome. Pakma was
the star artist of this clan.

Iltereedah came alone, almost unrecognized,
in all the chaos of thousands evacuating buried homes and finding
shelter, cleaning up and sorting, crying and circling in a daze
through the unending rain of silt. Omsh’pont had been grievously
wounded by the quakes and tremors and Iltereedah could scarcely
believe what she pulsed.

She showed up at the entrance to
the
em’kel
and was
immediately recognized there. Lokeesh kar, another scentbulb
artist
,
quickly hustled her
inside.

“Affectionate Metah…we didn’t know you were
coming…an unexpected pleasure…can I get—“

Iltereedah waved him quiet. “Is Pakma tek
here? I need to speak with her.”

“Yes, yes…of course, Affectionate Metah, of
course…I’ll get her.”

Pakma showed up right then, momentarily
flustered at the Metah inside their own tiny
em’kel
.

Iltereedah got right to the point. “I came
because of your reputation, Pakma tek.” She didn’t have to
explain…everybody knew what Pakma did well. Pakma had learned to
create and appreciate scentbulbs from an early age. One of her
first accomplishments as a scentbulb artist had been to capture and
catalog scents from seamothers who occasionally entered Omtorish
waters in small packs. In this, Pakma often exposed herself to
considerable danger, but she was able to obtain scents and smells
from seamothers in a variety of states: eating, sleeping,
copulating, in distress, fighting. These traces were in the waters
of the Om’metee, south of the traditional seamother feeding
grounds. Technically, these waters were off-limits, but Pakma
ignored the regulations.

Her scentbulbs became famous throughout
Om’tor and other kels as part of an updated catalog of seamother
culture and biology. The bulbs were known as the
Puk’lek
(literally, Seamother
Smells).

Iltereedah went on. “Pakma, I want you
to create a new set of scentbulbs for me…
Puk’lek
scentbulbs. Seamothers in heat, ready to
copulate. I want twenty of them. You can do this?”

Pakma circled the anteroom silently,
thinking. She pulsed Iltereedah and could clearly see she was
anxious, maybe it was the tremors and quakes, so many died, so many
injured. Now, seamother bulbs?

“I can do this…but it will take time. Maybe
three days.”

Now Iltereedah seemed especially
intense. Pakma pulsed her and the echoes slammed back. The Metah
was wound up tighter than a tillet’s neck. “The
eekoti
female is going back to Kinlok, back
through the Farpool. Tomorrow. A small expedition. I’m sending
the
eekoti
male, plus Longsee
and Kloosee, and ten others. You too. All of you will be
tekmetah
…my eyes and ears. We bond
today…the ceremony will be on top of T’or—“ here the Metah seemed
saddened by all the destruction around them, “at
midday.”

Pakma wasn’t surprised. “It takes time,
Affectionate Metah, to make the bulbs. Why so many?”

Iltereedah now seemed resolved. She had
made up her mind. Abruptly, she waved off the others gathered
around and they scooted off, though not far. “The
eekoti
male will speak once more
with the Tailless people, with their commander. Once the female has
gone through the Farpool, the wavemaker must be shutdown, and the
dismantling must proceed. If the Tailless refuse, I want you to lay
a grid of Puk’lek bulbs around the machine. Make them strong, Pakma
tek. Strong and powerful. Irresistible.”

Pakma considered what Iltereedah was asking.
“It’s dangerous, Affectionate Metah. Scentbulbs of puk’lek in heat
will attract more puk’lek…the seamothers will come in force,
stirred up, ready to fight.”

Now Iltereedah smiled. “I’m counting on
exactly that. If the Tailless will not shutdown their machine, the
seamothers will do it for them…permanently.”

Now Pakma understood the Metah’s reasoning.
It was bold. It was risky. It might start a war with the Umans, a
war Pakma wasn’t sure the Omtorish or any kel could win. It might
further damage the seas. It might even be suicide.

“At once, Affectionate Metah. The
whole
em’kel
will get to
work…here, come Lokeesh…bring me some blank bulbs. We have much
work to do.”

Iltereedah left.

The expedition got underway three days later,
ten kip’ts in all, engineers, craftsmen, technicians, herders,
spinners, handlers, pullers, drivers, prodsmen. Plus Chase and
Angie, riding with Kloosee and Pakma in separate kip’ts. Angie’s
lifesuit was too bulky to allow her to ride with more than one
companion. Pakma drove their kip’t. Angie wedged herself in back
and slept much of the time.

She was sad and exhilarated at the same
time. How was that even possible? Sad to be leaving Seome and Pakma
and all the friends she had made on this waterworld. Sad to be
leaving Chase…sad for what might have been. They had talked about
getting married, even having kids…it was always three, not one or
two. They had dreamed of honeymooning in the South Pacific, some
nearly uninhabited tropical paradise, living like castaways for
weeks on end. They had talked of getting Angie into med school,
though
that
seemed at least
as far away as the other side of the galaxy. They had even talked
of Chase buying out his Dad’s shop and setting up a chain of
stores…they had tried out different store names: Half Moon
Novelties, Apalachee Gifts, even The Turtle Shop and spent hours
and hours designing their web page and merchandise brands and
logos.

Now…it would never happen. That made her cry
and Angie shed tears for awhile. Pakma seemed to understand, and
sympathized with her.

But some of the tears were tears of joy too.
She was going home. Going home for good this time.

If the Farpool could be made to work
one more time.

The rest of the trip passed by without
incident and soon the expedition cruised into the icy polar waters
of the northern Ponk’el Sea. The beat of the wavemaker was somewhat
irregular though as irritating as ever. Pakma wondered out loud if
the Umans were getting ready to shut down the machine, or had
altered how it worked.

“I hope it hasn’t affected the Farpool,”
Angie said nervously.

Pakma drove her kip’t alongside Kloosee’s. A
repeater link was opened. Kloosee’s voice came through scratchy and
chirpy.

“I received a message, on the signaler.
Longsee sent a message from us. The Umans will meet us at the usual
spot.”

Angie knew what that meant. The small hut on
the sand ridge overlooking the beach.

They were there in a short while.

Angie decided she would go along with Chase.
Kloosee, Longsee and the others stayed with their kip’ts, hovering
just below the surface of the bay.