A Trip Outside

I lie awake in the darkness of my pod, trying to interpret why I keep having these dreams. For months now, I go to sleep with expectations of meeting my father there. The dreams are so vivid and real, I can’t distinguish them from authentic memories I treasure. Dad started bringing me along with him to the GEM lab when I was 13. My mother hated the idea, but he could see my fascination every time he told me stories of his time spent with “The Pack”. First, he only let me interact with a young male GEM pup, which had a light grey coat with a large white patch along his breast and another along his left hip and thigh. “What should we teach him?” Dad asked amusingly. I thought for a minute then replied, “To find something important?” So Dad asked for the heart-shaped locket that hung around my neck. He and Mom had given it to me for my last birthday; it’s the only non-essential gift I’d ever received, and I was very protective of it. He said, “We’re going to teach this pup to find this locket. And if you always keep it on, then he’ll always find you, ok?” I was hesitant and asked, “Couldn’t we just train him to find me?” He shook his head. “That’d be too easy; other types of canines have already been trained to find a person, or a type of item. We want him to find this particular locket, no matter where it is, no matter how long it takes.” So we did. And Dad taught me all his training techniques, shared all his knowledge of GEMs with me, just like I was one of his colleagues. Eventually Dad let me help him with the whole pack, and they grew to trust me like they trusted Dad. Then one day, he and the entire pack disappeared during a training exercise on the Outside; the pup, who’d grown into a juvenile by then, along with them. That was 11 years ago, and the pain of how much I miss him is like a fresh open wound; made raw by the salt of these dreams; intensifying the sting ever-present in my mind.

Dad always told me when I’m having trouble sleeping, to think about the past. So I think about The Change in the year 2048, when most life not sheltered inside the Artificial Gravity Cupulas – AGCs – was wiped out by a climate apocalypse; brought about by scientists attempting to stop global climate change. I imagine how different things would be now, had they not created the AGCs before The Change; nor built their massive database of genomes and DNA specimens from organisms all along the Geologic Time Scale. How convenient they had the means to rebuild life on their terms, while the rest of what was left of humanity, struggled to survive. They worked in sophisticated labs, sheltered away from the reality they’d created. Anybody valuable to the resurrection of new life, was granted access to their world, while everyone else had to adapt to a 15th century way of life; or be exiled to The Outside. I think about when the New Society Order initiated Operation Rediscovery; a directive to explore what Earth had become since being wiped clean by man’s mistake, and made new by nature and time. I think of the very first GEMs - Genetically engineered mega-canids – they ever created. Designed to be the perfect travel companions, they were supposed to make stepping out into a post-apocalyptic world for the first time in 100 years, actually possible. I’ve always preferred to think of them as prehistoric; like ancient dire wolves that roamed the earth over thousands of years ago. Except they’re just 2.5 times bigger, with biological mechanisms to help them tolerate the new climate. My father pioneered the GEM training program, and became the first person to successfully lead and operate a pack of GEMs on hundreds of successful scouting, research, and recovery missions. I imagine what it would be like to explore the brilliant tropical sauna of the Outside with my dad and his GEMs…

I awake to the sound of pounding on my pod entrance. Scrambling up and into my boots, I make sure to grab my light and knife before cautiously answering the door. “Asher just left base,” Myla said in a hushed, shuttering voice. “I didn’t know who else to go to, didn’t want to get him in trouble. I know you and him are–” I don’t let her finish. “W-what do you mean, ‘left’? Where? When? Did he take a GEM with him?” She shakes her head in reply. “What should we do? He left unauthorized, and from what I saw, he was traveling light; no suit, no shield, no extra provisions,” Myla whispered as if she wanted to blurt out as much information as fast as possible, then run. “Well…no GEM, no gear, no authorization. Either he’s lost his mind, or he’s not planning on going out too far,” My verbal reasoning doesn’t set either of us at ease. “I should be able to catch up to him if I travel fast and use my monitor to track him. Myla, help me gear up, then go back to your pod. If anyone asks, you saw nothing, do you understand?” Again she nods her head in reply.

It’s 120°F and climbing, so I pause to recuperate from my grueling pace and rehydrate. It’s a struggle to fill my lungs with the dense air of this tropical swamp; an overwhelming aroma of cypress, stagnant water, and decay. I’ve been pursuing Asher by his implant and tracks for over an hour. He’s traveling like he honestly thought I’d let the man I love just walk out of base without a second thought. But that’s ok, I’m using that to my advantage. My wrist monitor indicates Asher’s only 150 yards ahead of me. It also says I’m sleep deprived, still dehydrated, have lowering blood sugar and increasing body temperature. Welcome to the Outside, a steamy post-apocalyptic world where the closest a human body gets to homeostasis, is a few degrees and an empty water bladder away from a heat stroke. I have to reach Asher before he ends up stuffed with Exiled arrows, or in the belly of a Megaboa; very similar to the Titanboa that once ruled the ancient swamps over 2 million years ago, and another wonderful product of The Change.

Another half-hour has passed, and I’m now within 30 yards from the same location he’s held for the past 10 minutes. Something’s not right. I switch to cast mode on my monitor and flip the helmet of my visor over my face. The screen reports live data of my surroundings, feeding from sensors of my suit that detect external stimuli much more efficiently than unaided human body ever could. All is still and quiet. Up ahead there’s a sudden crash of vegetation, the roaring of rushing water, and multiple gunshots. I advance toward the sounds, swinging my head left and right, repeatedly scanning for incoming threats. I ease through a dense patch of giant ferns, listening intently for more sound. Everything feels still and muted again now, my rapid heartbeat the only sound. I emerge from the brush, and glimpse the body of a Megaboa; its nerves still firing off as they attempt to fight death. This one was just a juvenile of about 10 feet in length. Suddenly something slams into me, sending me back into the giant ferns and tumbling into the bog. I lose my gun in the fall, but am quick to grab my ankle blade. But before I can weld it, a hand closes around my wrist, and the other over my mouth. My entire body, including my helmet, is cover in mud and algae, making it nearly impossible to see. “Roan! What the…be still, damn it,” Asher whispers. He’s covered from head to toe in mud as well. We lay there tangled in the dark, wet earth; concealed by the overhang of the ferns about us. Minutes go by, and everything still feels frozen and silent. Just when we both begin to relax, something emerges from the cover of the swamp that I’ve only seen in my imagination.

It’s a GEM, but clearly not one of ours. It looks wild and ragged; a male appearing older than any GEM I’ve ever seen; the NSO doesn’t exactly allow our GEMs to die of old age. And there’s a young Exiled boy riding him. They’re followed by a troop of Exiled scouts on foot. They must have heard all the noise. They survey the scene, one scout finds Asher’s gun, while another cautiously approaches the dead snake. Three more scouts suddenly fan out, the boy and GEM along with them. The others quickly dissect the dead snake into manageable portions, most likely take back to wherever they came from. “We need to move. Now,” Asher suddenly whispers. “Wow, aren’t we just seething with stupid ideas today! What are you even doing out here?!” I whisper back, trying to sound as hostile as I feel. “Roan, not now. We know GEMs better than most anyone, that one’s gonna find us. Right now they don’t know where to look, we smell like swamp, so we need to-” he doesn’t get to finish being a condescending asshole, because in an instant the dense patch of fern that was our cover is leveled around us. Towering over our bodies, is the boy and his GEM. Despite the odd timing of it all, I can’t help but admire the depth of his charcoal color, a white patch snaking along his breast. And his eyes…this GEM looks so familiar. His intense gaze is on Asher; and a low, rumbling growl erupting from his throat like an approaching thunderstorm makes it hard to hear anything else. He wraps his jaws around Asher and tosses him to the side as if he’s a boring toy. Asher doesn’t protest or make a sound, he knows it’ll just make it worse. He lands with a thud 10 feet away, gasping for air. I close my eyes because I know I’m next. But the thunder stops, and nothing happens. I begin feeling the push in pull of hot, putrid breath dancing around my chest and neck. Then a whine escapes from the GEM. “Take off your helmet,” a young voice commands. I do as he says, slowly, as The GEM proceeds to rub his wet nose along the collar of my suit, whining and clearly showing excitement outside his usual behavior, judging from the glances I steal of the Exiles’ expressions. “What’s that around your neck?” This must be coming from the boy on the GEM’s back. “A necklace,” I reply in a chirp that was supposed to come out as a defiant bark. “What kind of necklace?” he impatiently demands. I try to gain some empathy as I tell him the truth, “It’s a heart-shaped locket. I’ve had it since I was about your age.” The boy loses all expression. I guess my appeal to his emotions didn’t work. “Your first GEM, what did you train it to do?” He demands again. Who is this kid? “How did you know I train GEMs?” I ask instead. “Answer me!” the boy demands with impatience and tension. “I trained him to…find my…necklace…my father…” All of a sudden, I realize where I’ve seen this GEM before! “Roan?” the boy asks hesitantly. “How in the hell do you know my name? Did you steal this GEM from my father? Did you kill him?” I’m angry enough to take them all on now, and climb up onto my feet. The boy just stares at me. They all just…stare. “Your father gave this GEM to me. He said I had to help it find the woman with the heart-shaped locket.” Asher coughs and says, “This…is why I came out here.”