I hope you are having a nice day, welcome to my sandbox.
19. Evolution has strange outcomes — these creatures fished from the Abyssal Zone seem to have hands.
When the sky meets the water on a cold winter's night, it is barely distinguishable from the depths below. No amount of movements or waves can disrupt the calm that lays between the sleepy sky and the calm seas. A calm only broken by our vessel as it floats gently on the surface of the water. Even then-we are merely a drop in the massive bucket that is the deep sea of the Pacific ocean. The calm is overwhelming, something not seen or heard anywhere else on earth. It’s home.
I’ve been living on and off the ocean since I was born; my father owned a fishing boat. He was gone at sea for weeks at a time. My mother talked about it constantly. It wasn't long before my brothers and sister joined him in throwing themselves towards the water in a mad attempt to be free from the land. I was always different. I could peel my eyes away from the depths and focus on the land. A trait I had inherited from my Mother-one I am grateful for to this day. I was able to divert my attention from the sea long enough to get my degree.
However my attention was subdued, not halted. My familial draw to the ocean pulled me here, far from my home in small town Nova Scotia. It pulled me to the edges of the world in search of my long time passion; sleeper sharks. The beautiful deep dwelling creatures fascinated me and their rarity entrancing me to seek more of their kind. Unlike my family who were drawn to the water for its benefits to their pocket. I was drawn by the wonder of the sea.
I stand at the bow of the ship.There’s a smoke in my hands and a smile on my face. The moon makes the water appear to move in unnatural ways. I take a drag of the cigarette, the warm smoke curling in my lungs. I relax further; sinking to my position on the rail. It’s late. Everyone else is asleep; or at least pretending to be. I am alone. Not that it bothers me. The quiet sinks into the water like a stone.
My eyes drift over the water-we’ve been out here for weeks. Nothing but the endless water and the excitement of taking the cameras up and down. I take another drag of my cigarette, leaning forward and resting my head on my hands. The cool wind from beyond shifts my hair and I shiver. I watch our camera crane sway and turn slightly. The currents are strong in the deep areas of the sea where we plant our cameras. Sometimes it’s even a large sea animal bumping against the pole we use to bring the camera up and down. That's always fun.
I bring my head up, taking a deep drag of the cigarette. The smoke leaves my mouth in a sigh, creating a cloud that flows up and disappears into the night. The moon peers out from behind a cloud. I am at peace.
The boat rocks, and I jolt out of my stupor. My feet shift to support my body as the boat rocks. My cigarette falls. I curse. The water ripples and I feel a fear coil in my stomach.The movement of the boat is normal. I shouldn't be feeling fear, maybe it’s just my nerves. I take a deep breath, holding the rail tight in my hands. I’m fine.
I laugh-realizing it is likely a shark or giant squid pulling at the camera. There is no need to be afraid of the ocean. Fear of the unknown here can be explained away if one takes a moment to think. Legends of deep sea creatures that defied explanation weren’t anything that concerned modern seamen. Especially those on a research vessel like this. We are professionals, more afraid of funding cuts than we were of a giant squid or shark.
I stay outside for a short while longer. My love for the ocean contesting with my dislike of the deep cold that enveloped the vessel. I shiver. Pulling my thin flannel shirt close around me. The cool breeze wins and I head inside. My purpose for being outside long gone.
My sleep isn’t good, and I wake to shivering winds and cloudy skies. I wipe the sleep from my eyes. Exiting the cabin with my cheeks tingling, I turn my gaze to one of my crew members. Mark stands at the stern of the ship with his face wrapped in a thick scarf. My heavy boots tap on the metal of the ship as I approach him. He turns to me, taking off his fogged glasses and wiping them on his shirt. He grumbles under his breath, shifting from his position on the rail. Mark pushes his scarf down from his face with a gloved hand.
“Charlie, is that you?” Mark says, squinting at me for a moment before replacing his almost clean glasses.
“Hey Mark. Yeah, it's me.” I sigh, letting out a deep yawn as I sink into the cold around me.
“Good morning,” He says gruffly, sipping his coffee from a thermos.
“Good morning. Are you excited to bring up the camera?”
He mumbles, taking another sip of his coffee. “Yeah.”
It’s later in the day when Meg finally calls us from our spot on the ship to the crane. She’s excited, bouncing on her heels as she leads us to the other side of the ship. Mark smiles at her, and his hand wrapped around hers. I'm happy for their engagement. It’s about time, definitely been a hell of a long time since they started dating.
“I’m hoping for a squid, a big one. It's been awhile since we’ve caught one on camera.” Meg says, letting go of Marks hand and sitting down in the cabin of the crane. It shakes slightly as she adjusts herself on the seat. It creaks, the rusty bits and screws squealing with effort.
Mark thinks for a moment at Meg’s question, taking a deep drag of the cigarette in his hand. He leans against the rail next to the crane. “Dunno if I have a preference, just excited to see if we got anything this time.”
“I want to see a sleeper shark.”
Meg rolls her eyes. “Of course you do Charlie.”
“I squashed my expectations years ago Meg,” Mark chuckled.
Meg starts the machine to bring up the camera, a loud whirring sound filling the air. It’s slow; our ship is rusty and old. We don't expect this ship to be absolutely excellent-it works perfectly for our job and that is all we really need. The anticipation of the crane bringing up what we have been waiting for is mind numbing. I watch with eager eyes as the wire slowly pulls up the camera; I was definitely hoping to see what had rocked the boat the night before.
The sound from the motor grows louder as it strains to bring up the camera. Mark and Meg look confused, and Meg fiddled with the controls on the machine. She pulls the lever to make it speed up-it only makes the machine groan louder. Was it possible that the camera had been caught on something? No. The radar had shown no rock outcrops beneath us when we first dropped the camera. It was possible we had missed an overhang-but I highly doubted it. The camera was still making its way up so there really was no big issue.
With a jolt, the ship tilts to the left. Mark reaches over in a panic, grabbing the rail I had been leaning on and dragging himself up next to me. It creaks and groans as it moves. The crane strains further. It is going to break if we continue at this rate. Meg quickly shuts off the machine-staring wide eyed as the boat slowly shifts back into place.
“Are you okay Meg?” He yells,
“Yeah! Just a bit spooked, that's all.” she responds, the nervousness in her voice breaking her calm mask.
“Any idea what it is we’re caught on?” Mark asks. Right. We’re caught on something. There can’t be anything big enough down there to pull on us so hard.
“I think we got snagged on a rock overhang.” she sounded very uncertain. We all are, this hasn't happened before. The boat further settles. I breathe a sigh of relief. Standing up tall, I remove my hands from the railing. Meg restarts the engine and it seems to be going well. That is until the boat jerks to the left again; thankfully the boat rocks back into place quickly this time. It doesn't reassure me though-whatever is causing this is still down there.
“What the actual fuck?” Meg says. The wire continues to wrap up. Something is just below the water. It’s pale and nearly white, shimmering beneath the surface. We watch in awe as it raises out from the water. A hand grips the wire and I have never felt more fear than I do in that moment. To our shock, the hand doesn’t meet a wrist. It meets a blob of flesh. The wire continues to wrap up, Meg doesn’t make a move to stop it, frozen with fear.
It pulsates, wrapped around the long wire attached to the camera. Its maw covers the device. The hands, the fucking human hands reached forward and claw at the air. They curl around the wire, the thick metal digging into the palms of its hands. We stand still, watching it. What else could we do? We were a research vessel. We have nothing to defend ourselves with.
“What is that?” Mark says, his voice filled with panic.
I shake my head, too scared to make a sound. It inches forward, in a curious way I had seen the octopi at the base do. Curiosity is safe, the creature could be gentle. It cautiously wraps a hand around Meg’s arm, and she lets out a cautious laugh. Mark lets out a noise that sounds something like a mix of a choke and a yell. I laugh, and Mark sends me a look.
“Charlie, we can’t let it touch Meg. What if it hurts her?” He hisses.
“It hasn’t shown any aggression yet.”
“Oh for fucks sake Charlie, what if it does?”
I laugh, taking my camera out and aiming it at the creature. I don't think it’ll hurt Meg. Those things weren’t hands, they were probably just a mutated form of suckers. Excitement swelled in me at the thought of discovering a new creature, something like this would surely get our names out in the scientific community. We’ve been wanting a breakthrough like this forever. I am no longer excited by the thought of seeing what’s on the camera, I want to share this with the world. I take the picture, the white flash illuminating the textured skin of the beast. It seems everything changed in an instant.
Meg is screaming. I can’t move, my feet are rooted to the ground in shock. I hear Mark scream her name, running at the thing desperately. I finally find my voice, shouting for him to come back. He doesn't listen, and I burst out running right behind him. It doesn't take long to reach him on the small boat. It’s leaning, precariously tipping us into the abyss that is the ocean. For once in my long life all I feel is fear of the depths and contempt for what it has brought upon us.
I can't see Meg anywhere, the mass of hands covering the control booth where she once sat. she hasn’t stopped screaming, and i can't even begin to wonder what might be happening to the poor woman. Mark is still screaming, his voice raw as he stands there at the edge of the blob, clawing, digging, trying to get to Meg. I see the hands slowly begin to wrap around his layers of clothing and their long nails dig into his skin. I put my hands on them, trying to rip them off of Mark. I can't lose both of them.
In the confusion I am not sure what I do to pull Mark away from the beast. All I know is that suddenly we’re running, running as fast as we can away from the stretching maw of the horror behind us. I can’t hear Meg anymore, and I can’t fucking breathe again, Im coughing, a deep, horrible cough that I can feel deep inside my chest. Fucking asthma. I stumble, my feet missing their mark and I fall. I scramble up, Mark grabbing my arm and nearly flinging me into the cabin of the ship. He leans against the door to the cabin, as if that would actually keep out the thing outside. Its huge mass making its way towards our side of the boat. It’s slow, but inevitable.
“That thing has Meg!” His voice cracks as he yells. There are tears streaming down his face, his glasses are cracked and crooked, and I'm surprised he didn't lose them. “We have to get Meg, she’s out there Charlie.”
“Mark, what the fuck do we do now?” My voice is strained as I whisper, I don't want her to be gone. In my mind I can’t imagine her not being here tomorrow, it's just not something that is plausible. Everything that has happened has been a living nightmare, it was surprising how fast your world can crash down around you. "We can't go out after her."
Mark lets out a choked sob, his body sliding down the door to the steel floor. “I don't know Charlie, I really don't.” I can't respond. I don’t know how to. My mind is muddled and I can't think, there is nowhere to go. We are in the most empty place on earth.
I find myself struggling to breathe again as the mass of hands and flesh seems to crawl its way down the deck towards us. It's incomprehensible terror ripping through my mind. To describe what the being was would be impossible. What the fuck even is it? I sit there, trembling as my thoughts envelope me. Mark’s eyes soften, and he stands. He walks over to me, crouching down and putting a hand on my shoulder.
“It’s not your fault.” A lie. It is, I don't know why he isn't throwing me out to the beast as well. his fiancée was fucking dead because of me.
“Yes it is, it is. I shouldn’t have taken that picture. If I hadn’t taken it maybe it wouldn't have happened.”
“Charlie, you didn't do anything wrong in trying to document a new creature. That's our job.” Mark says, standing up. There are tears on his face, and he can't look me in the eye. “It’d be childish to be mad at you, we need to work together to get through this.”
I nod, clearing my throat. It doesn't help, my voice cracks as I speak. “The radio should still work, I can’t see why it shouldn't. There’s a flare gun in the cabinet under the table, I can get that. I don't think I can handle speaking over the radio.”
Mark nods, walking over to the radio. His eyes drift to the window to watch the mass slowly moving towards us. He’s scared, I can tell. He is desperately trying to hide it, for what reason? I do not know. I swallow heavy, shakely making my way to the cabinet and taking out the flare gun. I shake as I hold it, my eyes watching the mass as it moves towards us. The boat rumbles beneath us as it shifts. I don't know how long I'm staring at the thing. I jump when Mark gently lays a hand on my shoulder.
“They’re sending someone to get us, I said we were hit by a rogue wave.” I understand why he lied, but it isn't comforting. He pauses briefly to fidget with his hands.
“We have to stay alive until nightfall. I think we can do that.” Mark’s lying again. We can’t. It's getting closer and whatever happened to Meg is going to happen to us. I feel panic build in me.
“Do they know where we are?”
“Yes, I sent them our coordinates.”
“We don’t need the flare gun then,” I state, walking towards the door.
“Charlie, what the fuck are you doing.”
“Making it stop, or making it happen faster.” I say, my voice trembles as I fling the door open. The mass is closer now, its pores dilating and contracting. Seeming to breath as it moves forward. I choke on my breath, and climb up on top of the cabin. I hold out a hand for Mark to follow. He does, his face emotionless as he sits down on the roof next to me.
“If we don’t make it out of this Charlie, I want you to know that you’re one of my best friends.”
“You’re my best friend too Mark.”
We sit in silence as it inches closer. I ready the flare gun with a shaking hand. The fear
“Want a Cigarette?” I ask, pulling one out for myself. He nods, and I light one for both of us. I feel the smoke warm me, and I feel a calm wash over my body. I sigh, letting the smoke fall from my lips. This might be my last moment on this earth, and I’m sharing it with a cigarette and a friend. It isn't the worst way to go. I take aim with the flare gun, and fire.
The thing pulsates faster as the flare hits it, the mass withers and the hands flare. Mark and eye back away from it as it moves backwards with a speed and ferocity that scares me. Soon there is nothing but a ripple and the rocking of the boat to remind us it was there. We calm, and Mark throws his jacket over the two of us. The cold sinks into our skin, as well as the aching of our joints as the adrenaline wears off. Mark is laying back, his smoke long gone as he gazes at the sky.
When I look down at the water, I see dozens of tiny hands just beneath the surface, surrounding our boat. I hold back a choke, watching as the beast pulsates. Gills. Those pores were gills. This thing isn't a new species of octopus. It is something I don't want science to describe. The hands rise, their tips leaving the water. I shiver, watching as the sun slowly, slowly sets with anxiety.
I don’t know how long I watch them, time is becoming something unneeded. All I know is that as the sun sets my eyes are drawn to a hand that has the engagement ring that Mark had given Meg on it. A tear flows down my cheek as I watch it wave in the water. She’s gone. I had killed my best friend's future wife and my friend. Mark should just throw me into the sea with it, let me drown and scream as I'm enveloped by the mass.
The helicopter approaching scares the thing back down. It's sudden, the pores contacting and pushing it deep underwater. It’s as if it wasn't even there. The strange creature that threatened to consume us simply disappeared into the depths. I am suddenly hit with an overwhelming fear of the water. Something I have never felt before. I shudder, my eyes not leaving the water as Mark gently guides me into the helicopter.
It’s a bur. We move from helicopter to ship, to another ship, and to another ship. They ask us questions, ask us where Meg is. Ask us things we don’t want to answer. But we do. We answer in half truths and lies, nobody would believe us. The camera was lost long ago to the sea. Mark and I stay close, making sure the other is safe. It makes me feel like less of a burden on him when I remind him to eat or calm him down after a nightmare.
When we arrive in Halifax, there is a soft breeze. We were alone on the deck of the ship, watching the water in fear that it had followed us. I turn to tell Mark we’re here, we can get off the ship and never look at the water again. He turns towards me, his glasses foggy and his scarf is pulled over his nose. I do not speak, instead choosing to stand next to him. We lean on the rail, watching the cars drive across the Macdonald bridge.
“Mark,” I start, my voice not feeling like my own as I speak. “We have to go.”
“I know.” he says, his voice soft.
I pause, and turn my head back to the bridge. “I don’t want to be alone anymore.”
“Neither do I.”
“Would you like to maybe try to stay together? It doesn’t have to be forever.”
“Yeah. I’d like that. Do you live around here?”
“I don’t have a place to live, really. It was always either a university dorm or a bunk on a ship. My parents can’t take me back right now, they’re not very well off.”
“Oh.” Mark says, “We could rent an apartment? Find jobs, get ourselves back on our feet.” Never going on a ship again was unspoken. There is no doubt in my mind that we would never set foot on a vessel again.
Time passes, slow like cool molasses dripping from a cup. Mark pushes forward, and is able to clear his mind while he works at the local supermarket. I am unable to, my mental state in shambles. Guilt over Meg’s uncertain fate ate at me. I wake up at night, trembling, screaming as I see hands reaching from beneath the bed. I hear Meg’s screams, and they mix with my sobs. It’s almost become a routine for Mark to sleepy shamble into my room and stay with me until I fall asleep. I don't think our neighbours like me. I'm a crazed lunatic who is a burden on their hardworking friend, and I can’t disagree.
Some nights are worse, my asthma clawing at my insides. Tonight is one of those nights where I am bent over the sink, cursing my own existence. I cough, blood and phlegm splattering the sink. I wipe my mouth with my arm, meeting the eyes of my reflection in the mirror. I am tired, there are dark bags under my eyes. I’m trembling, and I can't stop. My leg involuntarily twitches forward and hits the hard side of the sink, I let out a yell, cursing softly in a whisper. I stumble backwards, coughing harder as I slide down the bathroom wall. I hear the door open and my heart leaps in my chest. I try to pull myself up to defend myself, to do anything. The anxiety and paranoia intensifying as I fumble for something, anything.
“Shh, it's alright. You’re okay.” Mark says, he squats down next to me, his sleepy eyes calm as he puts both hands on my shoulders. I let out a hiccup, tears streaming down my face. Mark holds me as I cough and sputter. I feel safe. My heart rate calms. I am not alone. I am not here to be left alone to my own destructive thoughts.
“We’re going back to kill that fucking thing.” I say between coughs, my gaunt form trembling more. “We’re going to end this fucking thing one way or another.”
Mark nods, and we both understand what needs to be done.
Writing stuff:
- Uhhhhh random guy in ship, vroom vroom
After over 200 years of living one gets lonely. It is to be expected, of course. Life moves on even if you yourself do not. it’s a sorrowful type of loneliness, seeping into your bones and your skin. It follows you everywhere like a bad opinion. Now, there aren’t many ways to lift and throw away this metaphorical rock on your back. However finding a family may just be your solution.
In the eyes of many family and the home is simply a social situation brought on by blood and ancestry, however this is often not the case. Think, even for a moment about the individuals you welcome into your home, human or otherwise. Are they not your family? Do you not share and appreciation and respect for them as well as your familial group? It is quite often the case that yes, you do. Would you feel the same kindredness with someone in your blood family you have never met? It is unlikely you would.
Family in-of-it’s-self is a social group for social animals such as ourselves. It isn’t anchored down by shared blood or shared parental figures. Family is a bond created between two or more individuals to assist them in living life in a way that will most help them succeed.
For Mr. Michel Hobbs, who finds himself in the above predicament, finding a family or a home is much harder than it seems. You see, about 125 years ago Hobbs lost the majority of his family, both blood and not. It is an unfortunate fact that Hobbs has found himself in a rather awkward situation with his ability to die. Hobbs would like to, as he hopes for an afterlife. The issue is he simply cannot. It’s not as if the man is simply untouchable, he’s been hurt many times before. It is that he simply won’t die. This unfortunate fact has allowed for Hobbs to succeed but has also limited his ability to make friends or family.
He’d traveled far and wide, from Mars to Jupiter, from the deep jungles of an earth-like planet YTR-3 to the strangely calm ice planet of TAR-6. Hobbs has yet to find himself a family, and a friend that didn’t leave or die. His restlessness had found him back on earth after about 50 years of traveling known space. Earth was a sore spot for the old man, the graves of his children, their children, and so on, had been dug up for the world to advance. It was terrible, really, and such a shock. Hobbs had been off planet for half a century and went back to leave a bouquet of positively lovely Tagorian flowers. Much to his dismay. He had no trace of them left. His beautiful children had been torn from the memory of the soil and in turn the world. The individuals he’d raised for many many years had been forgettable apparently. As much as it angered him however, time passed, and he was the only one alive who still visited the graveyard to pay respects.
Hobbs sat in the cockpit of the Mark-9 Mars homestyle cruiser, a relatively small ship, and pondered. What could he do from here? There really wasn’t much he could do. He was lonely and generally there was nothing left to do that he hadn’t done before. Holovision shows never peaked his interest as the culture that surrounded them was so foreign. He felt completely comfortable in the universe and that wasn’t a good thing.
When one first enters the vast array of networks that hold the united galaxies together they are amazed. The exploration! The beauty! Triumphed by no other place known to sentience! Now however, after navigating the networks for so long the glory had left it. It seemed that after the treacherous waters of space were triumphed nothing seemed hard anymore. Nothing stole his attention away and made him chase it with wonder anymore.
Hobbs stared blankly at the terminal that welcomed people of all different shapes and sizes to earth. Quite literally all shapes and sizes, a small spacecraft containing little bean sized lizards zipped past. Another carried the beautiful Vilane creatures past in a water filled ship. One of them winked at him and his face flushed a deep red. He ducked down, hiding his face. He recognized that Vilane, their name was Liki. It had been a strange visit to their planet, and one that had tested his dedication to his (disappointingly dead) Husband. Hobbs had not entered a romantic relationship with another person besides his husband, who he missed dearly and could never replace.
He turned his gaze away from the captivating extraterrestrials. Oh, how he remembered visiting the luxurious “Los Vegas of the skies” all those years ago, the sights, the smells, the insane gambling that put him out a large chunk of money. It was all quite nice. Truly the only thing to make it nicer would be if his roommate (who was Liki, the winking extraterrestrial) understood that he didn’t have a romantic interest in anyone besides his very dead husband. Ah well, that awkward 6 months had created a fairly strong friendship that Hobbs hoped he would get to experience again before Liki died. He ducked his head up, and with a smile waved back at his friend.
Hobbs then focused on the lanes and lanes of spacecraft ahead of him. He had a job to do here on earth. A job he dreaded. There was a child that had been discovered, who lacked the ability to die like him. Hobbs tapped at the steering wheel, letting out a sigh. He wished another hadn’t been born. As bored as he was with life, he didn’t wish this fate upon anyone. The victims family had seemed nice, which made it all the more worse.
Security was tight, as usual. They checked his bags and raised an eyebrow at the admittedly falling apart spacecraft. However through convincing them he was at the planet to get a new one he was warily allowed to pass through. Much to his honest relief. He had done nothing wrong but the stinking anxiety made it like performing a tracheotomy on yourself in the middle of a crazy party. Not that he had experience doing that. At all. Never.
Maybe he wasn’t the best influence.
He pulled into the docking station and dropped off his ship, selling it to some shady guy with a creepy ass smile for quite a bit of money! He could buy a new ship and probably pay off the debt he had from buying that planet to recreate a forest from Earth on. A sizeable project, even for him. But it was well on its way to becoming something great. Hobbs had, maybe possibly, raided a few conservatories and stolen the materials he needed to do this. Granted not the most ethical thing, (He could practically feel his old friend roll over in his grave when he did that,) but he was dissatisfied with the lack of forests and nature. And the only way to solve it was to put on his big boy pants and utilize both samples from his youth and from stealing them.
It was really the only thing Hobbs had left.
Hobbs cleared his mind, handing the money to the used spacecraft salesman. It was a decent spacecraft for the amount of money he’d given the lady. He ran his hand over the hull, this would have enough space for his junk(which had accumulated and accumulated over the years, unfortunately) and the kids stuff. What would the kid want? Was there video- wait no. Hologames? Was that the term? He wasn’t sure. Maybe he was going senile. But that didn’t matter. He was going to buy a whole bunch of shit for this kid. Might as well make him comfortable.
So he “raided” multiple stores in an effort to get stuff that the kid would like. (which wasn’t n actual raid, but awkwardly asking what kids did for fun at and buying whatever they said.) apparently 5D VR was a thing and absolutely terrifying. He may have embarrassed himself in the large department store and left with a bright red face akin to a warbol fruit. Which was bright red and incredibly tasty. Hobbs was red. Not tasty, unless one was a cannibal. Fortunately Hobbs had never met a-. He was rambling again. Oh dear. He definitely shouldn’t ramble around the kid. That might make him uncomfortable and Hobbs didn’t want that.
After a bananza of shopping Hobbs dropped the large amount of bags off at his spacecraft and went to take a shuttle down to Earth. Which, unlike the movies, was quite slow and much like a train. He spent the time attempting to sleep. Cause hey, you couldn’t exactly sleep when piloting a spacecraft. That’d be like driving a car while sleeping. Granted cars didn’t exist so people never got his comparison but whatever. He found himself in that strange invetwren of sleep where you can still hear everything but you can’t exactly move for a long while. However he apparently had fallen asleep because he woke to the sound of what always reminded him of the seatbelt airplane beep. Oh dear, it was time to disimbark. Now came the time to embarrass himself in front of the child he would care for, for presumably the rest of eternity. Oh boy.
As much as he missed the wonderful and stunning forests that used to cover most of the world he had to admit the cities were very scenic. Well, the forests still existed it was just that they were much smaller and Hobbs wasn’t allowed in so he considered them long gone. He gazed up at the disappointingly-not-neon signs guiding you in to weird and wonderous boutiques and nick-nack stores. It really was quite a wonder here. Hobbs was disappointed he couldn’t visit them. Or rather that he personally chose not to spend money there. Oh well, he’d have time when he took the kid on visits.
Hobbs made his way up the elegant steps that met with a very large and very tall apartment complex. Oh wow, this kids parents were loaded as hell. Hobbs hoped that his scraggly appearance and fairly long hair didn’t make him look bad. He brushed off the dust and awkwardly greeted the AI teller, who welcomed “Master Hobbs (that sounded VERY weird to him) into the Williamson condos and suites.” He nodded with slight anxiety and made his way to the elegant 2 doored elevators leading to the kids apartment.
After a harrowing ride in a high speed elevator Hobbs found himself outside the door of Mister and Missus Amani. They welcomed him in with wide eyes and quick glances around the hall. Probably to insure that none of their few neighbors had seen such a dirty figure interacting with them.
They guided him to a large living room, in which they sat him down on a chair. They sat across from him next to their two children. A boy and a girl. Hobbs smiled politely, attempting to look less menacing and more like Gandalf or something. He didn’t know, he just wanted to look kind.
They had apparently found out Thrasus was afflicted by this disease (could it be called that?) when he’d been crushed by a falling shelf and had not died, much to their happy surprise. And they’d shared the same concerns that Hobbs did. Well, a fair amount less gruesome and more optimistic but Hobbs wouldn’t fault them for that. They’d contacted Hobbs after they met with a doctor, who sent them up, and up, and up until the Canadian government had informed them the fact there was another like their child. They’d given the family Hobbs contact information and boom. Here they were.
Hobbs nodded along, and accepted with a firm handshake to care for their kid.
It didn’t take long for both Hobbs and Thrasus to be riding down on the elevator again. And it was rather awkward. The kid wore a backpack and Hobbs held the rest. Two rather sizeable suitcases and a duffle. Hobbs couldn’t blame him, he’d take just as much of not more.
“I’m sorry you have to carry so much,” Thrasus said.
“No! No, it’s fine. Don’t worry about me.” He responded cheerfully, smiling at Thrasus.
It may have taken the two a little while to get to the shuttle terminal in the dark, but they did make it. And with minimal injuries! (Hobbs had to admit he had been a bit clumsy and missed the curb. Which had resulted in loud giggling from Thrasus.) They made it in time for the last shuttle of the day, and boy was Hobbs glad to sit back and relax. Not sleep. He had to keep Thrasus safe. (Like seriously, who names their kid that?) it had been very convenient however when the kid had fallen asleep. Cause he didn’t want him to have to experience what sleeping in an actual spacecraft was like.
Hobbs was just dozing off when the beep went off. Damn, why did it have to happen at the worst times? He groaned, gently waking up the kid and collecting their vast array of bags. Thrasus looked really sleepy, and Hobbs sure as hell didn’t like that. But he had to do what he had to do. He couldn’t carry all of the bags by himself, plus a kid. He could drop something important, or hell even the kid! So he tried to casual talk but ended up sounding like one of those deadbeat dads in the old Christmas movies.
“So uh, Thrasus-“
“Call me T. Please. Thrasus is a weird name.”
Very true, Hobbs was glad they could agree on that.
“T then, what do you like to do for fun?”
T paused, as if thinking.
“I like playing with my toy kitty, he is nice.”
“Oh? I didn’t know you cats were a thing, I’ve only ever had real ones.”
“You’ve owned a real cat!!”
“Mhm, multiple! I’ve got a few at home in my barn waiting for me. Meaning you can have one.”
“Whoa!! I’ve never even seen a real cat! Is it true they always land on their feet?”
The long discussion on cats continued well into their trip. Apparently T was surprised that cats came from the lions and tigers he saw in the zoo. It was also apparent that T definitely needed help learning basic life skills and how to operate as a human being. Rich people, how the hell would they survive without money? (This disregarding the fact Hobbs bought himself his own planet and hasn’t worked for a long while. He himself is a rich person. He just refuses to acknowledge it.)
Then the talking stopped. Hobbs turned his head confused only to see T zoinked out in his seat. Ah. Another one bites the dust. Hobbs smiled softly to himself, gently piloting his ship deep into the unknown reassess of space.
When T woke up he woke up to green. Very bright green, many shades of green. And a very soft thing being placed on his chest. He opened his eyes only to be greeted by the face of something he’d only seen in pictures. A cat! It was true, they really were the softest things ever! He just wanted to hug it until he died, it was so brilliant! He was so glad Mr. Hobbs had brought him here.
“Morning sunshine, welcome to the land of the living.”
T didn’t understand a word of that but just nodded along. He looked around, utterly amazed. “Where are we? I’ve only ever seen stuff like this in documentaries!” T said excitedly, his eyes flicking around it seemed to try to see every tree.
“We’re home T,” Hobbs said, and T could hardly believe it.
T didn’t know what to think about family. For him? Family had always been through blood. Nothing else. But he found himself feeling strangely comfortable around Mr. Hobbs. It was very weird. He didn’t even feel this comfortable around his own parents! It just seemed that Hobbs was very excited to have him and clearly doing his best. He wasn’t uptight, he wasn’t scary. Hobbs was kind of dopey and weird but T really liked that.
So now, after getting to know Hobbs T thought maybe, just maybe, that family isn’t centered in the Blood you share or the ancestors you have. Maybe it’s a social grouping made up of people who genuinely care for each other. And maybe he was starting to feel at home with Hobbs.