Chapter 3: An Octogirl's Needs

Jack, perhaps a bit dulled from his ordeals, was in mystified wonderment at her saying his name. “H-how do you know my…?”

Her pupils turned into a wavy ‘W’ briefly before going back to a bar. “Jack name. Name…d.”

“What? I- oh! Oh, right. I told you.” He laughed briefly, a bit hysterically.

She nodded, and her skin rippled like a horizontal wave. “Yes.”

“What is your name?” He gestured between them both with his hand. “Jack, and…?”

“Neexolei Ba Ley Bravama Ona Kotos,” she spooled out rapidly. Then her pupils turned into squiggly lines for a split second, and she said, “Neex.”

Jack was grinning and repeating the full name in his head multiple times to memorize it when Neex sagged and drew in a deep, wheezing breath. He quickly reached over and moved her oxygen mask back over her face. “You need this! Oxygen. Please.”

She slunk slightly from his hand down into the bed, her eyes widening up at him, but a couple of her head tentacles touched his hand, and another two pressed down on the mask. A sucker on a tentacle pinched him once, and he winced, suppressing the urge to ‘Ow!’

Payback, isn’t it? Ha. I deserve that.

Neex took this all in, eyes spinning around, each moving independently. She took a deep breath and then nodded in understanding to Jack. “Ox-i-gen. Odigene.” Then her eyes shifted away, her eyelids quickly drooping. She muttered something unintelligible.

“Hey!” Jack called, and she started, eyes going wide again. Need to focus on important shit, here. “You need help! Tell me how to help, tell me who to call, what to do, where to take you, something!”

Her eyes flashed over his face in confusion from the barrage of words. “Help?” Her eyes focused on the cup in his hand. A tentacle curled around and went into her open mouth. Jack thought he heard a little squirt; she swallowed and then made a face. “Give…d… water. Salt?”

“You need salt? Uh, yeah! Yeah, I can do that right now!” He began rushing out immediately.

“Jack!”

He stopped and turned back. “Yeah? Something else?”

“Salt…” She made a ‘mixing’ motion with her hand. “Water. Saltwater? Ocean. Neex.” Her raised head swayed and she dropped it back down onto the bed.

“Saltwater, sure! Ocean? That’s a long way away. Restricted, too. Not sure it’s possible without-” Jack noticed her eyes were closed. “Nevermind! I’m getting it!”

He ran out the door to the kitchen, soon digging in the pantry for salt. There was half of a whole five-pound bag, so he took it out, grabbed a spoon, and rushed with it all back to the guest room.

“I got it right here!” he called as he entered. “Just let me…” She was not responsive. “Neex? Neex!”

Jack rushed over but only to see that she was completely out of it again. Still breathing. Her head tentacles were splayed out on the bed.

“Shit!” He took one step over to the counter where the pitcher lay, then stopped short. It hit him as he looked down at the salt.

‘Ocean. Neex.’ She wants to be in the saltwater, doesn’t she? Like an octopus.

“Alright, alright… hold on, Neex. I got this. There’s running water. A bathtub!” He took a nearby door into the bathroom and started running water in the tub. He was unsure about the temperature for her, so he stuck with lukewarm.

He hefted the bag of salt and then hesitated. “Wait, shit, how much salt, anyway?” He wracked his brain furiously for the salinity of seawater factoid he’d probably learned in school, which he’d surely memorized with his prodigious and exceptional brain…

Nothing. His brain failed him.

“Shit! Stupid brain!” He rushed into the living room looking for a convenient tablet or computer, but didn’t see anything, so he sprinted outside to his car.

Slightly out of breath, Jack put his hands on the silver frame of his vehicle and called, “Alice! What is the salinity of seawater? Ocean. Per gallon, I guess. Approximate.”

Alice answered immediately. “Seawater would be roughly 150 grams of salt per gallon, or two and a quarter ounces.”

“Perfect!” He took two steps and stopped. “Er, about how many gallons is a bathtub?”

“Bathtubs vary in capacity. Between forty and seventy gallons. The majority of full-sized, tall lip bathtubs of New Babylon manufacture are sixty gallons.”

“Thanks, Alice!” He began running back for the entrance.

“You’re welcome, Jack,” Alice replied cheerily at his back.

Jack grabbed a measuring cup from the kitchen before rushing back into the bathroom. He was going to fill the tub maybe ⅔ to the top, so he measured the salt to be for about forty gallons and dumped it in, mixing it thoroughly with his hands.

Finally, he shut it off and retrieved Neex from the bed, awkwardly pulling along the oxygen tank as he went.

With the tank pushed next to the bathtub, he gently began lowering the octogirl into the water, straining not to lose his grip and drop her into it too suddenly.

When her feet and legs were submerged, she shivered from head to toe, and her head tentacles flicked around in excitement. Thankfully, she didn’t buck or the like, and he was able to more or less slide her into the water, kneeling as he held her back to keep her from going under.

The tentacles got very active at this point. Firstly, they pulled off the oxygen mask and tossed it over the lip of the tub, to which Jack sputtered in protest. Some dipped into the water, and some grabbed his hand and tugged at it as if trying to pry it away.

Reluctantly, he began to let go, but this was either not fast enough for the tentacles or they still wanted to get him back, because two of them in synchronicity pointed multiple suckers at him and squirted him in the face, thankfully not in his eyes.

“Graah!” He held his hands up to shield himself and spat salty water out of his mouth. “Ptuah! That stings my nostrils, you know! Thank the Southern Lights it didn’t get in my eyes…”

When he was no longer being sprayed, he peeked over his hand. Neex had fully submerged into the water, head tentacles happily swaying underneath. Her oversized shirt was like a cloud around her, bubbles of air continuously escaping from it.

Jack stood. Nervous as he was to see an unconscious person submerged in water, there was anything but distress on her face. It seemed more at peace than ever, and not in a ‘dead’ way. She was breathing the water into her mouth.

His lips twitched into a smile. What she was made for. One way or another.

There seemed to be water flow coming out from under her shirt by her legs, indicating her gills were openings somewhere in her torso.

She breathes air well enough. This is an insanely high altitude, though. If she’s adapted to the surface and the ocean, this air might be a struggle. It had been the opposite for Jack when he was going to lower altitudes for the frontier bases. He’d felt like he’d grown a third lung breathing that thick, rich air.

Memoria had crafted New Babylonians for the heights, though, just as she modified the life that sustained them. All adapted to make them the masters of the air.

Skymen, eh? Jack eyed the peaceful face of Neex under the water. This one is another story entirely.

He picked up the oxygen mask from the floor to hang it on the machine, then briefly went back into the bedroom to find a chair. He paused to drink a glass of water, then took a chair into the bathroom to sit close to the tub and keep an eye on his client. She breathed slowly and peacefully. Her tentacles, in contrast, were working actively, making splashes, swirling the water, and creating bubbles with squirts of air. At first, Jack thought they were playing happily.

Making bubbles? Oxygen. They’re keeping the water oxygenated…

Time passed in relative stillness and silence. The radio spat out chatter here and there. His uncle barked on it asking someone to check for a part.

Jack couldn’t stop thinking about what Neex’s origins were. He was caught between his distinct feelings that she was a modded human and then the disturbing, unthinkable suspicions that he could be wrong. His uncle had mentioned the word ‘alien,’ and Jack immediately assumed he meant the Earth’s extradimensional invaders. The conquerors of other lands.

Knowing his uncle, though, Jack was pretty sure he’d meant someone from ‘space’ rather than that. It was far and away the silliest explanation. No one was from space. Occam’s Razor. They had enough weird shit at home. Invaders from a different vector.

What nagged him, though, was that he’d heard vaguely about there being oceanic ‘entities’ during his military service. Details were classified, but they had to be incredibly rare on land. Public footage of superpowered fights was mostly old, propaganda-laced stuff from the ‘frontier expansion’ era in Antarctica. Newer, rarer stuff mimicked it. He didn’t recall any aquatic beings. On the other hand, Jack knew firsthand that they hid certain enemies entirely from the public.

As ever when he thought about them, the incident that changed his life three years ago came crashing back to the fore. He went back yet again, the scene carved in his brain as unchangeable as its natural grooves. The trauma was a part of him. A pillar.

It was at Fort Circe, a military base in the distant wet bulk of the south known as Wilkesland. It was usually rainy and windy, and when it wasn’t, it got hot, even sweltering. Dangerous storms were commonplace, and everything was always on high ground to protect against flooding.

Fort Circe was on a mountain of the same name and was the furthest south Jack’s basic security clearance allowed. That made Fort Circe a distribution center, with other pilots being permanently stationed in the region to hop around the borderland bases. With job ‘openings’ being occasional, Jack had considered it a strong possibility for his next role. With the clearance increase, he’d take such a role in a heartbeat.

It was certain he’d get briefed more on the mysterious ‘Enemy of the South’ that — as an open secret — almost certainly occupied what was once Australia across the sea. Plus, Emma was stationed there — a very cute and very single administrator he’d talked to multiple times…

He was just walking away from another of those conversations had in-between dealing with the inventory paperwork. Down a hallway he went to get back to his vehicle. He’d get his things and rest in the cozy guest quarters for the allotted time before heading back out. Jack remembered smiling and thinking that Emma definitely liked him. Her coworker had been smirking at them with a certain kind of ‘look.’ A tell that gave him a warm feeling.

Could he fast-forward a transfer? Pull strings? A little permanence would be nice.

Sirens went off just as he was pushing open the door to the outside. He had one moment to wonder if it was a drill before an explosion went off, slamming the door into him, smashing his phone, and almost breaking his arm. Instead, he was knocked on his ass and the door could be seen to bend inward, while the walls to either side cracked. His arm was numb.

He saw the lights flicker and go out, and then emergency lighting blipped on, flashing red. More explosions and gunfire. Screams, their directions difficult to place.

Jack shot up onto his feet and pulled out his sidearm, his heart pounding, blood felt pumping through his arm as he worked his hand to make sure it worked. His brain defaulted to his training. Protocol dictated that a pilot either get to a bunker or receive orders from the base command. He immediately went running down the hall back to Admin, thinking of Emma and her coworkers. They’d know the best route, anyway.

The door to the office was thrown off, the wall was busted through, and the office itself was mostly collapsed like a bomb had gone off inside it. The dust had not fully settled. Vaguely, like the outer haze of a nightmare, Jack remembered seeing blood and body parts. But it was secondary — as horrifying as that was.

The open night sky was visible instead of a ceiling. What had come through it was a vehicle like a giant, energy-shrouded bullet. Everything was blown out and crushed in a visible radius around it — except for the inhumanly tall and lithe figure crawling out of a hinged opening.

The creature was insectoid, covered in a pale pinkish exoskeleton, with four arms, digitigrade legs, and a long, powerful, segmented tail. Its head was oversized, the cranium sloping up and backward into a spikey crown like a triceratops. The lower face was almost human in shape, but it had three yellow eyes, one larger in the center. A transparent encasement was over these, like strapless goggles.

It was holding a pistol-like weapon in one of its hands, a squat contraption that housed an exposed, exotic plasma-like energy, only it was crackling and sputtering in and out.

Jack was not only shocked and stunned by what he saw. There was a distortion that came from the creature, like the visible shimmering of heat, only there was no heat. The touch of that distortion gripped him, and he felt a brand new depth of terror. It sought to paralyze him; it went for his heart to stop it.

The creature caught sight of him and opened a mouth that extended too far to show rows of sharp teeth. It might’ve been grinning. It whipped around the weapon to point it at him and activate it… Nothing happened. It fizzled.

Screaming like serrated nails on a chalkboard, the creature tossed the pistol aside and stalked toward him.

Jack remembered his internal struggle well, right then. Something foreign was ensnaring him, and he had to push it back, had to resist. From his desire to live, from his rage at the senseless death and destruction dealt, he found just enough mettle to.

With a wordless cry, Jack brought his handgun to bear and started firing into the thing’s face.

.44 magnum hard metal slugs — armor-piercing rounds — cut across the space, standard issue because of the enemies that humans would have to use them on. Not great from a sidearm, even then.

The first shot ricocheted off a powerful exoskeleton, but the second was luckier and hit the central eye, dealing a nasty spider-webbing crack to the protection over it. The creature howled and paused against the oncoming fire, ducking and putting a hand up to cover its face.

Jack kept unloading as he backpedaled, yelling like an idiot. The creature cleared the doorway and began to pick up speed into a charge. Things weren’t looking good. Running from that thing would almost certainly be a laughable measure.

“Fall back, Soldier!” came a call behind him, and before Jack could do much more than jump out of his skin and ease up his trigger finger, the blur of a dark figure streaked past him like a vertical lightning bolt. It was an Agent Nonpareil in all the getup — memory-metal full-body light armor suit, fully enclosing hard helmet with a mirrored visor, and the iconic, navy blue long coat whipping behind him.

Wielding what looked like a pick and spear, the Non went for the monster, moving at enhanced speeds. It became a blurred storm of blows, pricking his enemy multiple times in the torso and limbs. The creature endured all such strikes without falling, but it shifted into a defensive mode with two hands up and protecting its head. Its tail had detracted a sharp stinger on the end, which it was trying to snake around behind its agile foe.

Barely, the Non dodged a strike from the tail whipping from his flank. He continued sparring with it in a dance, his movements too quick to follow, sticking the creature several more times but failing to land a head blow. He called, “Get out of here, Soldier! That’s an order. Blue lights mean evac!”

Indeed, Jack just noticed the emergency lights had changed to flashing blue, which meant to abandon the base. “Yessir,” Jack muttered, and he reluctantly turned to run. Maybe he could find a vehicle, maybe he could find others to evacuate… others not turned into puddles and limbs like…

It seemed like an eternity was spent going down that hallway. Near the end, he heard the Non cry out and turned to see him knocked into the wall and stunned; his spear had dropped from his hand. His pick was buried into the creature’s neck, which did make it stumble backwards. But it recovered quickly to flick its tail out and finish off its fallen foe.

On the plus side, its face was quite exposed. Jack’s vision became tunnel-like at that moment. Adrenaline pumping, barely thinking, he raised his weapon, aimed, and took the shot of his life.

The bullet shattered the eyewear and penetrated the eye, causing the beast to scream and reel back, its tail flicking violently away right before it would skewer the Non.

“Come on!” Jack called before firing another shot. “You can run, too!”

When the Non finally shook it off, though, the creature was still swinging its head and trying to gain its bearing. The Non grabbed his spear, got to his feet, and launched himself in a smooth motion, driving the spear right after Jack’s bullet, deep into the monster’s cranium.

It spasmed once and collapsed, spraying black ichor from the wound that the Non dodged away from, abandoning his weapon to get coated in the dangerous gore.

Before Jack could react much, the Non was by his side down the hallway, a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t make a habit of disobeying, but good job! Anyway, hop on my back. I’ll get you out of here.”

Jack moved to comply, but then the Non suddenly teetered and fell to a knee. “A-are you alright?”

“I don’t… oh no.” The Non twisted around with his arm up to look at his side. There was a little discolored area in the flexible material. “It's sealed over, but… I got cut. A lick of poison. I feel it. Shit. I’m just not fast enough! I should’ve been better against it. One more level is all. One more fraggin' level, I bet. Six is big.”

Level? “What do we do?”

“Pray, I guess.” He tried to stand too quickly and almost fell. Jack caught him, almost falling with him, but just managing to keep them upright.

“I’ll help. Easy peasy.” Jack kept an arm around the Non and began walking with him to keep him steady.

A sigh. “Not how this should go.”

“It is what it is, buddy.”

“Yeah. You’re still in shock, I think. Got a soldier’s gut, though. Solid. Also, I’m Vim.”

“Jack.”

“You can pick up the pace, Jack. I’m just super woozy so far, that’s all.”

Jack did so, making his way to the exit at as quick a walk as he could manage with his arm around someone. The door had simply fallen inward at some point, so he stepped out into the air.

Things were not quite as frenetic as before, with only scattered sounds of battle. The outside looked blown up. His own VTOL tiltrotor aircraft was in scattered pieces, an empty ‘bullet’ craft of the enemy embedded in the ground where it used to be. Several torn-up corpses were lying around. The face of a mechanic he knew stared blankly, his lower half missing and his guts spilled out on the concrete. He had called Jack ‘sport.’

“Fraggin' Phanties,” Vim cursed. “If they think they’ll hold Fort Circe, they’re in for a rude, rude awakening, compadre. The hammer is gonna drop.”

Jack remembered thinking that Vim sounded like a teenager. Too young to die. But then, wasn’t he? Wasn’t Emma?

Phanties. Phantoms? Something about their powers, their technology, I’d guess. But it doesn’t work very well within Mem’s territory or so far from theirs. Something mental to it, too. The aura of fear. If I think about it, I can feel exactly how it felt then. I was ‘exposed’ to something terrible enough they put me in five kinds of quarantine and drove me nuts trying to make sure I wasn’t nuts…

Jack was interrupted from his trip down memory lane by the sound of splashing water and movement.

Neex’s head popped out of the water, her skin all white like the tub, her rectangular pupils prominent and almost disks as they met his. “Hi.” Her webbed hand came out of the water to raise awkwardly in greeting. A few of her head tentacles tried to mime it, forming a nubby cluster on the ends.

Jack put his hand up, too. “Hi. How are you? Are you feeling better?”

“Better,” she said vaguely, tasting and testing the word. Her eyes and pupils squinted a moment and then cleared. She looked at her still-held-up hand and turned it into a thumbs up, then looked at him uncertainly.

Jack smiled and did the same. “Great!”

Neex nodded. “Jelah eh-... thank? Thank Jack. Thank you?”

Jack nodded encouragement. “You’re welcome, Neex. I’m glad to help. Happy to” — he gestured at the tub and the oxygen — “help you.” He raised his eyebrows questioningly. “Anything else?” He made an eating motion. “Food? Do you need to eat?”

She shook her head immediately. “No need.” She dropped her hand and sunk down a bit into the water, her eyes just above the tub wall to look at him. “Comfort.” The white around her pupils turned into a blue matrix, essentially looking very human-like. Mimicry. “Jack, you warrior? Fight?”

Jack shook his head somewhat uncertainly. “Not really. No. I’m a pilot.” He made a motion of turning a wheel. “Vehicle driver. Fly machine?”

“Oh.” Neex looked away. There might have been some disappointment there, but it was hard to tell.

“We all serve, one way or another. Mandatory training. Especially drone use. I was a pilot my whole career. I’m good with the gun drones, too.” He made a ‘twin guns firing’ motion with his hands.

Neex watched him curiously. “Drones.” She seemed to understand it. “Far kadabok killers.”

“Yes. Killers. You aren’t a warrior? No fight?” He pointed at her questioningly.

She gave a subtle shrug and shook her head slightly. “Mitatoris. Aga scensoa…” Her lips quirked into a frown as she considered, then she sat up a bit to lift a hand and grab a head tentacle, wagging it significantly. Then she pinched a cheek, touched her nose and lips, and pointed at her eye. Finally, she made a gesture down at her body and then at him. “Mita.”

Jack nodded slowly. Life? A doctor, maybe. Or a biologist. “Stitcher? Ever heard of Stitcher?”

Neex looked at him blankly and shook her head.

So much for that idea. “Where are you from, Neex? Origin of Neex?”

She understood this perfectly. As though rehearsed, she intoned, “Ocean. Deucalia. Weddell. Calm. Under deep. Rock aga water. Help-” She cut herself off with her mouth still open, closing it and studying him uncertainly. Then she looked away and shook her head, muttering to herself.

Stunned, Jack stared for a long moment, with some needles of alarm under his skin.

Weddell Sea, The Calm. Under it. Holy-... holy shit. Is she not human? No. No way. She can’t be! Not enough info. I’m missing something. I don’t know any Deucalia. Maybe an undersea lab. Hell yes — yeah! She was captured and taken. She’s a secret Mem project for human oceanic adaptation. Has to be!

Neex seemed sad, with her eyes gazing down on the water. Jack asked, “Why are you sad? Not happy? No comfort?”

Neex met his gaze and shook her head slightly. She lifted a cup of water in her hand. “Comfort, Jack. Ulla praet… past. Past ulla death.” She took the cup and dumped it over her head. “Comfort.” Then, she pointed to herself. “Death.”

Jack shot up onto his feet as he picked up what she meant. “No!”

This caused Neex to be startled and slip entirely into the water, changing colors to blend in even more, mimicking the water. Unfortunately, the big soaked shirt ruined it for her once again, and her pupils were still visible.

Immediately feeling like an asshole, Jack held his hands up. “Sorry.” He took a deep breath as Neex slowly peeked her head back out. “No dying, Neex. No death.” He pointed to himself. “Jack help. Tell me.”

Peering up at him, Neex shook her head. “Time. Far ocean.” She scooped up the water again as her pupils went to bars slightly curving at the edges top and bottom. “No Qualakuloth, no Qualakatus.” She dumped the water and rubbed her fingers and thumb together as if it were missing something. “Need. Need bond.”

Jack dropped down to the floor across from her, determined to figure shit out. “What is Qualakuloth and Qualakatus? Explain.”

“Memoria,” Neex said reverently, but then lifted a wet finger to touch his forehead. “Memoria aga Jack.” Then she pulled her finger away. “Qualakuloth.” She touched her own forehead. “Qualakuloth aga Neex.”

Jack’s blood ran cold. Another Archon. A bond? A bond to her Archon. No more denying what she is.

Somehow, despite everything, despite the propaganda against the ‘enemies of mankind,’ and even being someone to see some of their viciousness firsthand, he didn’t run screaming. It had to be different because Neex was different. Neex was Neex.

“You’re not human,” was all he could manage to say.

Neex cocked her head. She lifted a hand. “Human. Homo sapien al terran. Ert.” She lifted another hand. “Human. Homo grava al terran. Homo pala al terran. Ert ocean.” She made a ‘weighing’ gesture. “Gena salla do dreina. Al terran, al terran. Al terra.”

“Al terran… alter? Altered? Modified?”

Her pupils did a swirl. She then shifted so she could reach down and gently guide his arm up to the lip of the tub. She held her arm up to his, pinched her own skin, then very mildly pinched his skin. “Gena.” She held her finger and thumb up, nearly pressed together.

“Small. Small differences?” Jack at least remembered enough from biology to understand that concept. Humans were like ninety-something percent genetically similar to dogs, for instance.

Neex nodded, then indicated herself. “Homo pala al terran. Deucalian.”

“Qualakuloth altered humans into Deucalians?” That was quite a revelation if he was interpreting correctly. Would Memoria know? It wasn’t as if the Mems didn’t keep tons of secrets.

Neex studied him. “Al terra homo grava, Qualakuloth al terra homo pala. Far Time.” She gestured ‘wide’ with two hands. “Far past.” The whole explanation thing seemed to have tired her, as her hands dropped with a splash. Her eyelids seemed heavier as she sighed and laid back. “Time…”

Shit. I’m wasting it, here. Time. “Please, Neex. Please tell me how to help. I don’t want you to die. No death.”

She shook her head as her eyelids drooped. She muttered, “Jack wrong… Jack warrior… protect… thank you… comfort…” Her eyes closed as weakness took her again.

Jack leaned up quickly and shot his hand into the tub to grab hers. “Neex! Don’t go under — stay with me! Neex!”

With great effort, Neex’s eyelids pulled open and she sucked in air as she tried to focus on Jack. She and her head tentacles swayed a bit. “Skyman. Mmmph… Jack, myself death…”

“No, you’re not! Keep fighting! Just keep talking — we’ll just keep talking, okay?”

She nodded vaguely. “Jack… ora ka Memoria, ora sa Qualakuloth din ferrata sulei. Friendly, ally, help…” She trailed off as she almost went under.

Jack shook her out of it again. “Yeah! Friendly! I want to help! Tell me more, Neex. Please.”

She shook her head slightly and looked away, her state of consciousness deteriorating. “Gena claras matta, gena… gena…”

“Neex, tell me the story. What happened? How did you get here? Why did those men have you? They gave you the shirt?”

“Shirt.” The subject seemed to bring her to awareness as she looked down at it. “Yes. Take frono biti. Give shirt.”

“What’s frono biti? Human words. English?”

She paused and didn’t seem to have an answer. “Deucalians come, humans destroy. Kill. Take. Take frono biti. Long time… destroy en losa de Qualakatus, ada Butronokatus… losa, lost…”

“What is it, Neex? What is Qualakatus? Bu-... Butronokatus? An object?”

Her drooping eyes flitted around randomly at the last of her cognizance. “Lost.” Her eyes finally refused to stay open as she went limp. “Katus. Heart.” Then she was out.

“Neex!” He shook her, but there was zero response. “Neex, please!” Nothing. She was completely dead weight. Even her head tentacles ceased to move.