LYNX
A layer of blue fog wavers across the surface of the paleo-ocean, but it’s thickest in the far distance, just at the point where the water seems to curve into infinity. There, the fog is a solid blue wall stretching from the water to a ceiling so high above me it fades to darkness. The gigantic black beams that hang down from the ceiling are so drenched with moisture, they drip constantly. It sounds like rain falling, but more magical, for the patter echoes through the endless caverns, coming back to me a thousand times. The air is alive with it.
These are ethereal mornings. I love to stand here on the shore and listen. Sometimes, I swear I hear the ancient voices of the Jemen underneath the rain, jabbering in a language I do not understand. I wish I could. One of them might be able to explain Quancee to me.
She was gone most of the night, finding the path across the wasteland for another, she said. I don’t know what she means when she says ‘another.’ Arakie mentioned them once, but I didn’t really understand at the time, so I paid little attention. All I recall is that he speculated the ‘others’ she guides are actually her own quantum waves that, as her consciousness fragments, she mistakes for ‘others.’ He said it must be a little like seeing your own multiple reflections moving around you in a mirrored room. The room, of course, is the vastness of time. All I know is that when Quancee returns from these voyages she instantly goes to sleep to conserve energy. She was so feeble this morning her presence felt thin and faint.
Sighing, I watch the drops send ripples across the surface. The bioluminescent algae is being beaten to shreds out there. I see the clumps separating and dispersing across the ocean, becoming luminous pinpoints that resemble bouncing blue stars. It’s beautiful here, but I must get back to Quancee.
I glance over my shoulder at the corridor that leads to her chamber. A faint yellow glow pulses there. She’s still alive. If only I were smart enough to repair . . .
“Lynx?”
“Mink?” I call back in surprise.
“Up here.”
I whirl around and see him silhouetted on the ledge above me. He waves as he sits down on the lip of the drop-off and dangles his feet over the edge.
“What are you doing here?” I call.
“There’s something I have to show you. Come outside with me. This is important.”