It took the two boys some time to reach their destination. Not for necessity, but preference. The food on Torrent was the same no matter where you went. The planet, after all, relied entirely on imports to remain habitable.
That was one of three reasons they preferred this cafeteria, sitting just under the top floor of the megastructure’s tallest building. The second reason, of course, was the view. Some found it unswerving: an endless plain of water that stretched in every direction.
But Lorel loved it. As did Loch— even if he pretended not to care.
And the third reason…
“Empty again!” Lorel pumped his fist in the air as they walked through the doors. Empty was a slight exaggeration. There were a handful of patrons; a couple looked up at the noise, only to look back down at their food a moment later.
He heard Loch sigh. “Must you be so loud?”
“Why’s it matter? No one cares.”
“Let’s just eat.”
“You’re the one walking so slowly.
Another sigh; louder than the last one.
They’d walked here in silence, fatigued from their session in the facility. Lorel knew Loch was carefully poring over everything he’d seen there, trying to come up with countermeasures. That was just the way his mind worked.
Lorel, for his part, spent it resting his mind. Clashing with Loch always left him exhausted, both physically and mentally. The silence returned as they ordered their food, now joined by that of the cafeteria.
They ate quickly and quietly; Lorel, fish and chips, and Loch, a large salad.
Lorel finished first. Instead of bringing something up on his holo-watch, he set his head down, content to rest until his friend was ready to speak. Technically speaking, he had somewhere to be, but this was important. Aria would understand.
He turned his head to look out the window. The sun had already set, leaving the soft glow of Coral to illuminate the planet’s surface.
“I’ve been thinking.”
Lorel turned back to see Loch set his utensils back down on the table. Straightening, he chose to do away with his usual jabs and banter.
There was a time and place for everything.
“I know you have been. About what?”
“The future.”
He suppressed the urge to grimace. “Again?”
“I’m serious.”
“What about the future?”
Loch crossed his arms and fell silent for a moment before answering. “Do you really think we have one?” He asked quietly.
Lorel bristled— but forced himself to stay calm. Loch spoke the truth, after all. “Why does it matter? You said it yourself. You don’t have a way off-planet. And even if you did—"
“And if I did?”
He stopped short. “Do you?”
“… Maybe.”
Lorel took a moment to think. “I would tell you to take my family and leave me,” he finally answered.
Loch’s shoulders slumped. “I knew you’d say that.”
“The ocean is my home,” Lorel said, leaning back in his chair. “I don’t want to leave it.” He closed his eyes, considering Loch’s words. “Do you have a way off-planet? There’s no point in asking me otherwise.”
Loch scowled. “No. Not yet.”
“Then this conversation is pointless.”
“Even if I did, you would stay, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes. And I bet my sister would, too. And my parents.”
Loch’s shoulders sagged even further. “Why?” He asked, voice hardly audible.
“The ocean is my home,” Lorel repeated, matching the other boy’s tone. “The planet is my home. I don’t want to leave it.”
“And what if it really happens?” His friend’s tone dropped even further.
“Then I’ll fight.”
“And if you die?”
“Then I die.”
“That doesn’t scare you?”
“Of course it does.”
“Then why?”
“Where would I go?” Lorel asked. “There’s nowhere. This is my home.” He paused. “Do you really think anything will happen during our lifetime?”
Any further down, and Loch’s shoulders would have hit the table. “I don’t know,” he said miserably. “Something is happening today. I don’t know what. I just… have a feeling. A really bad one.”
That, out of everything said so far, was made Lorel hesitate. He knew better than to doubt Loch’s intuition; and the blue-eyed boy was privy to more information than most. For the first time, he seriously considered leaving Torrent— only to arrive at the same conclusion.
“… It doesn’t matter,” he finally said. “You don’t have a way off the planet.” This was the easiest way to avoid an argument. “If that changes, let me know.”
Loch nodded. “Alright. I need to get going anyways.”
“Me, too.”
They both stood at the same time, matching pace as they made for the elevator.
“Another dive with your sister?”
“Yeah.”
“Tell her I said hi.”
Lorel raised an eyebrow.
“What?”
“Nothing.” He grinned. “You have my blessing.”
Loch’s face immediately reddened. “I-it’s not like that,” he stammered. “She’s your sister!”
“So?”
“… Stop messing with me.”
“I’m… not?”
“Why is it a question?”
Lorel shrugged. They rode down the elevator in silence; broken by its ding when they reached the bottom.
“See you.”
“See ya.”
They headed in opposite directions. Lorel turned his gaze skyward as his steps carried him towards the city’s nearest station. Despite the Coral’s ambient light, the stars above were perfectly visible; silver specks of light against the night’s dark canvas.
No matter where you were in the city, one was never more than 5 minutes from the nearest rail station. The cars themselves were bulky, boxy things, but given that they hovered nearly four meters off the ground, they made for a smooth ride.
And they were fast. It took less than an hour to reach one side of the city from the other. It would be faster still if their magnetic tracks were straight; instead, they snaked around and through the many buildings.
The glass-and-metal door slid open to let Lorel through. There was no one else in the car. That was hardly surprising, considering the time— most would be home by now. Settling down in the nearest seat, he pulled his knees up to his chest. He could feel his hammering heart beat against them.
I have a bad feeling.
Those five words weighed on him. Even more so because they had come from Loch; someone who despised making uninformed claims.
Truth be told, he was scared— but what was there to do about it? There was no way off-planet. That was one of the many problems with lacking crucial natural resources: the need to rely on external sources.The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
And, as it turned out, other nations weren’t particularly keen on helping others reach spacefaring status.
Especially when they had a monopoly on the most valuable substance in the cosmos. And wars these days were fought from space— a little water wasn’t going to stop attacks from the skies above.
With a sigh, Lorel let his legs fall back down and sidled up against the back of his seat to look out the window. The buildings were little more than a blur of colors.
There’s no point in worrying about it, he told himself.
That single phrase had grounded him for so long, but now faced with Loch’s worries, the foundation of his resolve was slowly starting to crumble.
Lorel took a deep breath and closed his eyes, balling his hands into fists. Stop it, he scolded himself. What you told Loch was true enough. There’s no point in worrying about it if there’s nothing you can do.
He clung to that, and— slowly— his heartbeat and breathing returned to normal. He opened his eyes just in time to see the tangle of metal and glass above thin, and then recede ever so slightly.
The sight of the calm, tranquil waters calmed him.
Just as it always had.
Lorel stood as his car slowed to a halt. This was as far as they went. Any further, and the ambient Coral would affect their rail system. The cool nighttime air greeted him.
He watched the train as it sped away back to the city, now laden with more passengers than before. There was still some distance between Lorel and his destination, but he welcomed it. It would give him time to clear his mind.
After some time, the ground beneath his feet began to slope. Each and every one of the floating cities themselves were technological marvels, capable of housing 2 million people each.
Torrent held 50 of them, and room for many more. Not all of them were full, however, and some were newer than others; though all had been retrofitted to harvest Coral. A number of smaller ones dotted the planet’s watery surface, but those were research vessels. Not permanent residencies.
When the ICC was still in control, the city''s outer ring was filled with sand. Something to do with tourists, supposedly.
After Torrent gained independence that practice had been done away with. Even a seemingly simple resource like sand was too valuable to waste— especially given the odd properties of Coral.
It took Lorel nearly half an hour of walking to reach the city’s edge, but his mind was clear by the time the vessels dotting the outer ring came into view. This was yet another conscious design: as it turned out, when a planet was made completely of water, being able to travel on or under it became important.
Boats were popular— and in fact, were usually faster— but submarines were much better at gathering Coral. For that reason alone, the number of underwater vessels far outweighed the number of surface ones.
Technically speaking, the outer ring was divided into slots; and each craft had a designated parking spot, but no one really ever adhered to it.
Both types of vehicles came in all shapes and sizes. Some were long and thin, others larger than buildings. Others, still, were little more than spheres.
Even among all these crafts, however, one stood out above all else. That, of course, was Aria’s.
His sister’s vehicle was an experimental one, designed from the ground up by her own hands— including the materials.
The technical details were beyond Lorel, but he understood the basics. The vessel itself was made out of some sort of synthetic crystal. It operated on the same principle as others, using the ambient Coral to reinforce itself.
Or that’s what she said, anyways.
He preferred swimming to riding, but it was a beautiful craft nonetheless. Its wing-shaped body looked as if it were cut from a single, solid block of inky black glass.
And it was big.
Really big.
Its design was based on the manta rays of humanity’s home world, and though its cabin was slightly under six feet in height, it was perfectly livable for short periods of time. Others frequently questioned the safety of an experimental vessel, but in nearly a hundred dives, it had yet to fail a single time.
Aria leaned against its hull, along with its hatch. That was the one thing she still hadn’t quite worked out. This was just a temporary solution. She looked up as Lorel approached. “You’re late.”
“I was with Loch.”
“Oh.” A look of curiosity and… something else flitted across her expression, quickly enough that anyone else would have missed it. “How is he?”
Lorel sighed. “You can just talk to him, you know.”
“Why would I?”
“… This is why I don’t read romance novels.”
Aria tilted her head. “What does that mean?”
“If I want to bear witness to a long, agonizing, drawn-out, and unsatisfying courtship, all I have to do is look at you two.”
Her face reddened. “He’s your best friend!”
“So?”
She groaned. “Stop messing with me.”
Lorel scowled. “Why do you both keep saying that?”
“… You know, even as your sister, sometimes I find it hard to understand you.”
“It’s part of my charm.”
“It is.” Aria responded, her tone matter-of-fact. “So? How is he?”
“… He’s worried.”
“About what?”
“The future.” He sighed. “He said he has a bad feeling. About… something.”
“Oh.” Her brow furrowed. “That’s not good.”
“No,” Lorel agreed. “It’s not.” Even his science-minded sister knew better than to doubt Loch’s intuition.
“Did he say what?”
“Nope.”
“Hm.” Aria shrugged. “Not much to do about it.”
“If…” Lorel trailed off for a moment. “If you had a way off-planet, would you take it?”
“No.” Her answer came immediately. “I want to keep studying Coral.”
Despite himself, Lorel smiled. Their reason for staying, though different on the surface, were one and the same. “I knew you’d say that.”
“Enough talking.” Aria pushed herself off the vehicle. “Everything ready?”
“I should be asking you that.”
“I have everything…” she trailed off with a sigh. “Are you seriously going dressed like that?”
“Yeah.” Lorel grinned. He was dressed in cargo shorts and a plain white t-shirt, while Aria wore a thick pressure suit, designed to protect her for a few precious seconds in the event of a mechanical failure. “Only one of us is afraid of the water.”
Aria shook her head wordlessly. “Enough. Send me a message next time.”
“Alright. I’ll bring Loch next time, too.”
“Whatever.”
“Your face is still red.”
“… Seriously. Enough. I still need to finish the system checks. I thought you forgot about our outing.”
“Have I ever missed one of these trips, sister dearest?”
“No. But knowing you, anything is possible.”
Lorel laughed. “Fair enough.”
“Help me up?”
Before he could move to do so, an unfamiliar sound split the air, causing the two siblings to stiffen and look around. The others gathered did the same. In this context, unfamiliar was usually synonymous with failure.
And failure could be deadly.
But there was no scream of panic, no rush of people to help.
“Look.” Aria pointed upwards.
Lorel’s eyes widened as he followed the direction of her outstretched finger. There, illuminated by the pale green light, was some sort of flying vehicle. It was too high to tell how large it was, but it seemed roughly the size of Aria’s sub.
“Where’d it come from?” He’d seen flying craft before— it was a necessity in this day and age, after all— but they were incredibly rare; and usually much, much larger. As far as he knew, not a single person on Torrent owned a craft such as this one.
“… It’s a spacecraft,” Aria said absent-mindedly. Her pale green eyes were fixed on the foreign vessel.
Those three words, combined with Loch’s ominous warning made Lorel’s blood run cold.
“… It is?”
She nodded once, then frowned. “Something’s wrong.”
“What do you—” The last word died on Lorel’s lips as the ship suddenly careened downwards. It righted itself after just a few seconds– and then repeated the process.
And then again.
And again.
“What’s wrong with it?”
“I don’t think its engine was calibrated. They work differently when there''s more Coral in the atmosphere. It doesn’t really affect the big supply ships, but something smaller...” Aria’s frown deepened. “It’s going to crash.”
“... How much longer does it have?”
She chewed on her lip. “I don’t know. If it’s rated for atmosphere, it’s probably heavy. And its wings look small. They’re probably for stability and steering. Not lift.”
“... Should we evacuate?”
Aria nodded. “That’s probably a good idea,” she said absentmindedly, eyes still fixed on the foreign spacecraft.
Lorel drew in a breath–
“HEY!”
– and shouted at the top of his lungs.
Aria jumped, startled, and every eye there turned to face him.
“IT’S GOING TO CRASH! GET OUT OF HERE!” His words hung in the air, amidst a combination of stillness and silence. A moment more, and chaos took its place. There was still an order of some sort to the madness, however. That was hardly surprising– basic training was required of every water-farer.
“Was that really necessary?” Aria asked, a frown on her face once more. “You scared me.”
Lorel snorted. “You’re the one who said it was going to crash."
“I know. But you could always just… catch it?”
“How am I going to catch something of that size, sister dearest?”
Her frown deepened. “We both know you’re capable of handling more than that.”
“True,” he admitted. “But I’d rather not deal with the paperwork. And…” he trailed off, looking back up at the unknown craft. “There’s probably people inside. I don’t know if I can catch it without killing them.”
“Hm.” His sister seemed entirely unconvinced.
“What, you don’t trust me?”
“Not one bit.”
Lorel clutched his chest in mock pain. “Your words wound me, my dear sister.”
Aria sighed. “Knock it off. And get ready.”
He sighed, already imagining the mountain of paperwork that awaited him. “Fine.” So much for their trip. “You should get out of here too.” The chances of an explosion were practically nil, but catching a falling spacecraft was hardly a safe endeavor.
Protecting himself was one thing. Keeping Aria and himself safe while also catching something so heavy was another matter entirely.
She nodded, but before she could take a single step, the spacecraft swerved out to the side, putting distance between it and the floating city in mere seconds.
“They probably saw the people down below,” Aria said, frozen in place. “I wonder what sort of sensors it’s carrying.”
Lorel stared at her. “Is now really the time to be thinking about that?”
She shrugged. “What am I supposed to do? It’s up there. I’m down here. And look,” Aria added, pointing at it once more. “It’s getting even further away.” So it was. Already, the spacecraft seemed no larger than a ball.
He frowned. “Do you think there’s a Tidal on board?” Every vehicle on Torrent was required to carry at least one. But if it came from someplace else…
The two siblings watched as it lost altitude yet again.
“It’ll crash next time,” Aria murmured. “Keep watching.” Some of the others present had started returning, their eyes now fixed on the craft in the distance. “Now.”
Just as the word crossed her lips, it crashed down into the ocean’s tranquil surface. Even from here, they could see the massive jet of water that it kicked up– and when it cleared, the ship was nowhere to be seen.
Aria’s frown returned yet again. “That’s not good.”
“There’s no Tidal on board,” Lorel said, his heart pounding in the wake of the spacecraft’s absence. “How long until it breaks up?”
“I don’t know. I doubt it’s built to handle high Coral saturation. Maybe an hour at most.”
“Where is the Tideguard?”
“They’ll be on their way already.” His sister’s eyes took on a faraway look. “But they’ll be too late. Their station assumes that every ship has a Tidal. So if there isn’t one on board…”
“They’ll be too late,” Lorel echoed.
Aria nodded.
He swore under his breath. “Shit.”
Her brow furrowed. “Language.”
“Seriously?”
“... It’s no reason to swear.”
“You gotta be fucking kidding me.”
“Hey.”
Lorel paid his sister no mind, instead turning his gaze towards the many vehicles strewn across the outer ring. Where… there. His eyes landed on a one-person skimmer. Really, it was more flotation device than vehicle.
Cut from a single sheet of metal, the skimmer’s underside bore a special low-friction coating. Only a Tidal could pilot them, but they were fast. Really fast.
“I’ll be back.” Before he could doubt the course of action, Lorel sprinted towards the skimmer.
“Where are you going?” Aria cried out from behind.
“They’re going to be late. I can’t just let them die.” Tightening his focus, Lorel willed the water to form a bridge, flowing under the skimmer and connecting it to the ocean. Normally, one would stand or crouch on them, but he opted to lie flat on his stomach, clutching its front on either side.
It was smaller than he was used to, but that worked to his advantage in this instance. He formed a small current underneath the skimmer, using it to carry him out. That took seven seconds.
Little by little, he willed it to move faster, and after fifteen more, the warm water whipped wildly at his face. Five more, and the world was little more than a blue-green blur.