Washed Away

               While Riaan slept Jonathan went outside with his pots of hot and cold water. In the afternoon sun he pulled off his clothes. He mixed a little cool water into the hot, and simply poured it over his head in one large gush. It wasn’t perfect, but it was all he could do at the moment. In the remaining water he drowned his shirt and whatever other small garments that would fit. The water turned an odd shade of mahogany, a mix of blood, dirt, and sweat. It was a losing battle. He simply didn’t have enough water. It’s not like he could simply turn on a faucet.

               He spotted a wooden tub a few meters away from the house, and at one end was another hand pump. He gathered up his clothes, wet and dry, and decided a cold bath was better than no bath. The trough was full of water, some plants, and a couple late season tadpoles. He removed the plants, scooped the tadpoles out and set them in a puddle. Holding his breath he jumped over the edge and plunged into the water.

               “Holy hell that’s cold!” he shouted at no one. He made the best of it and hurried to finger comb the grime from his hair and face. He suddenly realized he’d not shaved in 3 days. After he was rinsed as well as could be, he shoved his clothes into the trough, gave them a few sloshes and pulled them out. The abundance of barren trees made it easy to hang them to drip dry. Last, he pushed the trough over to dump the filthy water, and refilled it from the pump. The tadpoles wiggled in their tiny repository next to the water plants. Jon leaned down and took the creatures in his hands and put them in the clean water along with the lilies.

               It would be a while until his wardrobe was dry. Archer didn’t like downtime. He began to listen to the buffet of thoughts that crept into his brain. Almost unconsciously he pushed his hair out of his eyes and off to one side as if maybe that would help the talk in his head clear up. He sat on the edge of the trough, which had been worn smooth by years of daily chores and time. The pale tadpoles wiggled in their corner, nestling in the roots of the plants. Life always found a way. Even in the aftermath of Reactor Two, nature would heal and rebuild. The tadpoles’ movements hypnotized him for a few moments.

               The thoughts pushed the tadpoles out of the way. What if Brannigaan came home and saw him sitting in the yard wearing not so much as a handkerchief? What if Riaan woke to the same sight? He wanted to creep into the kitchen and find something to eat, but decided to look in the garden instead. He found something growing that resembled parsnips; a gnarled tree offered a couple yellow fruits that looked like apples. It wasn’t pheasant pie, but it would hold him for a few hours.

               By the time his lunch was over he was happy to find that at least his shorts were dry enough to wear. The chilly air didn’t speed the drying process, but at least the breeze would move a few molecules. With modesty restored, he left the heavy garments hanging and returned to the house. The kitchen fire had dwindled to embers; the main fireplace had gone cold. Nevertheless, the house was warmer than the warmest spot in the garden. He stoked up the kitchen fire and made another pot of hot water.

               Jonathan found a small, finely woven basket, filled it with something he suspected was dry tea, and warmed up with the fragrant drink. Rest finally descended on his body and mind. Gathering a soft knitted blanket, he lay down on the feather stuffed sofa. He was asleep before he could count to three.
               

               “Where are your children?” Riaan asked quietly. Brannigaan sat at his mother’s feet, his jaw set, his eyes hard, still in denial over his father’s sudden death. Riaan, Brannigaan, and Jonathan sat on the floor in Riaan’s great room. Darkness was about to settle in, and Jonathan had not been to the shuttle yet. Somehow, a few more hours didn’t seem to matter anymore.

               “My…I don’t have children,” Jonathan said, puzzled. “Oh. Oh, Laskin and Samuels. Russell and Laurel. They’re the rest of my landing party. They’re still in the city.” He glanced up at Riaan, not sure if he should disclose any more of his origins in front of her son.

               “Jon, you got hurt in the fire,” Brannigaan said. The boy pointed to the gash on Archer’s forehead.

               “Yeah, yeah a piece of glass or metal must have hit me,” he said, pulling a few strands of hair lower over his face to camouflage the damaged crest. “I’ll be okay.”

               “None of us will be okay with that electric plant here,” Riaan said quietly.

               “Yes, we will,” Jon said gently. “We won’t ever be the same, but we’ll be okay, eventually.”

               “That electricity factory was bad news from day one,” she said. “I always suspected this might happen.”

               “You expected a meltdown of the reactor, not a terrorist bomb.”

               “Does it matter?”

               “Absolutely. A thorium reactor is not much of a threat in reality. The big question is why is there's a reactor before the need for electricity. You were not using electricity the last time I was here.” Archer glanced at Brannigaan. The boy didn’t see his glance, but Riaan did. It might be a bad idea to discuss people from other planets in front of him.

               “Brannigaan, go in the kitchen and put a pot of water on the fire, would you? I think Jon and I could use some tea.” The boy got up slowly, but did as his mother asked. In a few moments he was out of earshot.

               “Inside the reactor I found another language stamped on most of the components. It’s from a species called Tellarites. They’re actually a member of the Coalition of Planets. I’m not sure why they brought this massive technology to Akal.”

               “I thought it came from our University. I never noticed any newcomers or strangers,” she mused, frowning in hopes of remembering something. “It’s been going on for years now. Kellam and I both took jobs there at first. He was so excited about electricity. He saw a future of machines, and I remembered back that time you came, and thought maybe Kellam was right.”

               “You never told anyone about us – humans,” he added hoping he hadn’t said something in Wolg that might be misconstrued.

               “Actually, I tried, Jon. People thought I was crazy, so I just dropped it. I tried to tell Kellam, that maybe the reactor was from another world, like that thing that had made us all sick all those years before.”

               “Brannigaan?”

               “He likes my stories. I’m not sure what he might think if he knew they were true.” The faintest smile appeared in her eyes, on her lips. “What happens now? Is Akal about to learn that we’re not alone in the sky?”

               “I imagine,” he began, that the casualties will be—“Archer cut himself off. “It’s a salvage operation now. Assess the damage. Remove debris. Rebuild. I don’t think Akal will be able to go back to a world without electricity.”

               “The water is ready, Mama,” Brannigaan called from the kitchen. “Can I go to Akaray’s house?”

               “Thank you, son,” she called, and rose with difficulty. “Yes, go ahead.” Placing her hands on the back of the sofa for support, Riaan winced in pain. Archer leapt up. “Oh! Oh, no.”

               “Are you okay?” He touched her arm but she only stood in place, not looking up. “Riaan?”