Winged Migration of the Flightless Bird

Three.

I lay in a foot of that draining water as a spindly figure quickly locks the hatch, only able to close it (with the weight of an ocean that wants in) with some kind of old steam-punk-ish hand crank machine with visibly rusty cogs that are more rust than cog. I get to my feet and the figure approaches in the darkness of the room. Though electric me has night vision, it doesn't allow me the details in this person's face, too much green shadow. I need a light.

The figure extends a hand and I take it. With bony fingers and soft old tissue paper skin, it pulls me through a doorway and loudly closes it. This room is dry. The hand shivers in mine, definitely feeling the cold of the icy water. He lights a lantern and gives me a once over, up and down.

We stop in a stare.

Through devises of self-discovery (and not ugly inflated narcissism) there will be many times and situations where I run into various versions of myself in my adventures, but this is perhaps the most disturbing version, and I am glad I cannot feel. There I am, standing in front of myself, but this me is half-starved. This me is old. Perhaps in my eighties, but it is hard to tell as often emaciation can showcase wrinkles and make one look older.

"Ha! I didn't think you'd ever make it!" he laughs and then coughs. I didn't say anything in return. He takes my hand (yay!) and leads me out of this space and through an open grate. Once through, he lets go of my hand (boo!) and he beckons me to follow. What else do I have to do? I follow. We crawl through a narrow vent and into another open space. "I'm glad you're here. I've been waiting a long time for you to come and kill me."

"Sorry? Kill you? I've never--" I stop. Does destroying the robot Mel Million Max count?

"Of course you haven't. You even save worms from being stepped on when you're walking in the rain. Doesn't matter. You're not you right now. You have to kill me! It's my purpose. It's the only reason I haven't just given in to him." He stutters through a toothless mouth. "More enjoyably, you have to kill him as well!" 

He starts laughing. Oh my. Do I laugh like that?

We follow his lantern to an old wall-sized computer console, and duck down beside it. He removes a loose panel from its edge and crawls inside. There is more room in this creepy-crawlspace than one would guess. It becomes obvious to me that this is where he lives.

There are blankets and pillows in the corner, what looks like a makeshift chamber pot (luckily empty), various books and freeze-dried food wrappers. The ceiling is low and neither of us can stand up straight. This would explain, other than age, why his posture is so disappointing for me when I try to anticipate it in my future.

"Sorry, I can't just turn on the lights. He'd find me for sure, and I have successfully outrun him for many, many years. I don't plan on getting devoured now! I mean, as much as I'd like to take a really good look at you and remember what I used to look like with a little meat on my bones!" He smiles.

"Who is 'he'?" I ask.

"He is you. He is me. But he is not like either of us," he answers, pulling out a small metallic disk. He sinks to the floor like a bored child and sits on a cushion motioning for me to do the same.

"How long have you been on this submarine?" I ask.

"Submarine? This is not a submarine." He knocks the disk on the floor a few times and it opens like a locket. Inside there is a small screen. He presses a tiny button. Nothing happens. "Sorry...I've watched this too many times. She was my only friend!" he laughs (oh my) and knocks it on the floor again. A video starts up. 

It is Clover.

"Sean. I found a way to help you. It has not been easy. I went back to the wreck of Mel Million Max's ship and found some of his equipment intact. I found some of him intact too, much to Aye's chagrin. I have managed to extract some of your DNA from his machines. Enough to cultivate emotion which can be extracted and grow in you until you are human again. I have taken out enough DNA to make a clone of you. He can explain what to do with this information and how to absorb it and start the process. I have wired the trans-dimensional umbrella to this smaller Arrow ship, and I will try to get it as close to where we dropped you off as possible while still leaving it hidden. I parked it in the mall parking lot over what I think should be your ocean, and I will put a homing beacon on it tuned to your frequency. Guess that's the plus of being mostly machine, huh? There may be an anomaly in trying to send something so large to another dimension. The year might be off, but hopefully not too much. I wish you well. I hear from Li Li each night as I sleep. You are lucky to be part of her story... it is a good one. As is Gryff's and Darwyn's from her perspective. Maybe you'll find those that write down their stories on your adventures! Love to you my friend."