Planatae

Seeking

More and more, she felt the utter ridiculousness of her plan. Was someone just going to hire her on the spot? Shed a tear or two after listening to her tale? The harbormaster's tone had been sarcastic, she had seen that now. Anything to get the woman with a Factor out of her office, and avert political disaster.

Walking along the street, Ricardia came to a stop. She didn't care about the crowds jostling her, or the leering of passing faces. She was truly stuck, and the thought was going to crush her. She hesitated for a long moment, then allowed her feed to flicker on.

Of the various icons arrayed before her, one stood out, tauting - the feed's communication feature. She eyed the prompt that hovered in front of her, itching to press it, to select a name from the list that would appear. But she couldn't do it. 

Her half-baked plan so far was to try return to the place she had run away from in the first place. But it wasn't as if she wanted to; calling her family would mean embarrassment and failure, and everything they had said about her. An adventure, she scoffed to herself. That's what she had called this. And that couldn't be further from the truth.

But maybe... they'd come to Onyx if she did call, and take her home. And she'd be humiliated, and face up to what she'd done, but she'd be safe at least. Ricardia skin prickled, and she remembered how it felt to have the hacker's rough hands pressed against her, viselike.

It was time to stop running, wasn't it? Ricardia, with clawed, locked-up fingers, moved to establish the comm link. But then, seeping through the din, she heard a song.

Its melody was light; it floated atop the sea of guttural street noise. String instruments weaved together, slotting like bricks into a fast-paced rhythm. Ricardia was frozen. She knew that jangly triplet-beat, the warring blend of simple chords and high, screeching improv. It was Caedish music.

So for the second time in less than twelve hours, Ricardia found herself running through Onyx in a full-on sprint. 

...

Jasper's first experience with the ocean had been terrifying. The world was supposed to be steadfast, eternal - not unsteady, shifting, wet.

These days, he spent long days by its violent, frenzied texture, and in melancholy moments it resonated with him.

But it had been a long time since then, and Jasper found that the past slipped through his fingers a little easier these days. Even some particularly balmy mornings, like the one he was currently enjoying, could hold those memories almost completely at bay.

The air against his skin was a humid-warm soup, and so that once-dreaded water was quite cool and refreshing, honestly. The drink in his hand and the towel wedged under him certainly didn't hurt things.

The tide had been steadily creeping up towards him all morning, and now the water lapped against his ankles, flowed between his toes. It was a lovely sensation, and so he made no move to scramble higher up the beach.

Jasper craned his neck, tilting his face towards the blue sky. From above, he must look like a castaway, a little blip of sentience nestled on the edge of a pristine island. It was a good thought, and Jasper warmed at the idea of being the planet's only inhabitant.

But the image was misleading; although most of Alto II's precious little landmasses were bereft of development, the planet's colony site had still grown in recent years, sprawling across the seafloor. Anything above was built for the tourists - and foreigners like Jasper. A curated wilderness.

Eventually, he'd have to make his way over to the resort, resume his post. But the thought of leaving his island hideout to serve rich folks and their bratty children all day was a rancid one.

You just keep getting lazier, interjected Jasper's thoughts. He flinched, almost spilling his drink.

"Holy stones," he grumbled. "I hate when you do that!"

I'm sorry, the Old One retorted, her voice filling his head, I didn't come with a bell attached, unfortunately.

Yeah, I'm aware. Jasper responded. He'd slipped into that same strange headspace that the Old One existed in. You also didn't come with an off-switch, but who's complaining?

I am. You seem to have grown happy with this stagnant lifestyle. And here I thought you had goals.

He snorted. Not ones you've ever agreed with.

I don't, she answered. But I can appreciate the ambition. But who am I to say anything? Everything I've been working towards ended the moment I was trapped with you.

You really gotta get some new material, honey, Jasper answered. I've heard this shtick a million times.

Because it's the truth.

Jasper rolled his eyes, but he languidly rose to his feet and headed deeper into the water, where his little dinghy bobbed.

Long way or short way? He asked.

There was a beat of silence, then: the long way. I don't dislike seeing the reefs.

Jasper grinned, climbing aboard. "I guess even you can appreciate beauty," he said aloud, over the hum of the solar engine. And then they were off, the little dinghy gliding through the water.