Waters of Tisiyyon

Waters of Tisiyyon

By Scott George

Peter trudged through the thick, emerald waters of Lakhish River with a cautious and squeamish expression. Lakhish River was notorious for its putridity. The smell of its Balucium pollutant lingered throughout Tisiyyon, the odor of which was akin to that of spoiled milk. The smell was especially strong in Jackson, Tisiyyon’s capital, for there the river winded and coiled around the city’s sky-high buildings like yarn on a knitting board.  

Everyone had gotten used to it by now. Little did the citizens of Tisiyyon complain. Being a native of Tisiyyon, Peter should have been immune as well. But, unlike the majority of Tisiyyon’s denizens, Peter had to descend beneath the filthy waters once a week. While common logic dictated that the metal of his diver’s helmet would dampen the smell, this wasn’t the case. The closer one got to Lakhish River, the more pungent its odor became. Being beneath its polluted waters was as close as anyone could get, and his diver’s helmet, no matter how well insulated, could do nothing down there. 

However, as Peter continued to walk through the foul, decrepit depths, he was given another reason besides the smell to be apprehensive. When Peter had been beneath the Lakhish about thirty minutes, he suddenly spotted a long, stringy silhouette. It writhed and shifted in an arrhythmic fashion. Peter held his breath and kept a skeptical eye on it as it grew larger. Finally, the Lakhish smog parted before its undulations. 

 Peter let out a sigh of relief. At first glance, it was nothing more than a common Lakhish pike. But as Peter watched it swim by, he noted it possessed some novel, yet disturbing, features. Unlike others of its breed, this particular fish had a mound bulging out from where its gills should have been. From it, two black, lifeless eyes stared at Peter. From it, protruded another pointed mouth that, in an eerie and almost ghostly motion, continuously gaped, as if for air.

Peter flinched as the fish swam away. 

Abiel Kristofferson chuckled at Peter’s reaction. “Ah, a mutation,” he said. His words came out loud and muffled as they blasted out from his suit’s loudspeakers and collided with the smoggy water. “They are starting to become more common,” he continued. “A horrible sight, to be sure. But an effective reminder of the importance of our work.”

Peter shrugged. That’s an interesting way to look at it, he thought.  

Abiel trailed behind Peter as they walked the river bottom. Like Peter, he wore a diver’s suit. The suit, with its squared shoulders and massive head, made Abiel appear as an iron golem. But his size also added to the illusion—Abiel stood tall at six-four, about two heads taller than the average Tisiyyonian.  

“It’s the only way to look at it without succumbing to despair,” Abiel continued. “Anyway, let’s keep going. The canister should be nearby.” 

The two walked side-by-side for a short distance until Abiel suddenly came to a stop and pointed down. At their feet, a silver canister with light grey tubules lay partially submerged in the soil. 

Abiel bent over and picked it up. In his massive hands, it almost appeared as small as a throwing stone. “Looks like this one’s full,” he said. He gestured to the tubules, both of which were brimming with the grey sludge of collected nanobots.  

Peter immediately recognized the device as a nanobot canister. There were thousands of similar canisters spread across the river’s floor, each of which held an infantry of nanobots that, when released, would spread through the Lakhish’s waters to absorb its pollutant. Each could take in approximately fifty million angstroms of Balucium waste. When their task was complete, the nanobots were programmed to swim back to the canister. There they would remain until environmental engineers like Abiel and Peter came to collect them. 

Abiel passed the old canister to Peter and pulled a massive nylon sack—previously hidden by his expansive frame—to his front. Reaching a hand within, he withdrew a new canister and placed it in the divot left behind by the previous one. 

“Alright,” he said. “Let’s get going. We have more canisters to check up on.”

With this, Abiel moved forward. Peter placed the old canister in an empty sack hanging at his waist and followed, his legs aching as he pushed against the pressures of the water.

*    *    *

Time within the waters of the Lakhish stretched and contorted. Without a proper view of the sun, the passing of the days and nights became an enigma. For all Peter knew, he could have been here a year. Thankfully, his diver’s suit had a digital timer implanted on his left wrist, which did much to keep him oriented against the mechanisms of Lakhish River. According to its dull, red numbers, he had been beneath the polluted waves for three hours.

Eventually, Abiel signified that it was time for them to return to the surface. By this point, the loads they carried were reversed—Peter’s bag was full of used-up canisters while Abiel’s flapped in the waves like a flag. Peter strained as he pulled the weight.

“A good day’s work,” Abiel commented.

Peter shrugged. “I guess.”

“What do you mean? We collected a whole pack’s worth of used canisters, each filled with countless nanobots. Think of all the pollutant we removed from the river!”

“But the Balucium miners have each collected three or four. And how many of them came down here today? Probably hundreds. We are fighting an uphill battle! How are we supposed to clean this river with so much against us?”

Abiel nodded. His words were soothing and consolatory. “I understand your frustration, Peter. But there is hope on the horizon. I spoke to some members of the Union just yesterday. They have been performing research on some of the nanobots we sent them, and it yielded some interesting results—the Balucium collected from the nanobots can be substituted for actual Balucium.”

“How do you mean?”

“The technicians I spoke with said that they took a hundred canisters worth of nanobots, mixed them in a cooling solution, and put the mixture through a laser canon. They found that the effect is nearly the same as if they used pure Balucium ooze. Granted, it only let off three shots, but it is progress.”

“And how does that help us?”

“The technology is still young,” Abiel explained. “But, with further research, the technicians at the Union might be able to completely erase the need for pure Balucium. If this happens, it would create a monetary incentive for Tisiyyon’s governor to place more focus on river clean-up.

Peter shook his head in disappointment. “It’s a shame that we have to use a monetary incentive to convince the governor to clean the river. What about the smell? What about the withering trees, the decline in wildlife? We have to import countless animals from other planets in order to create the mere imitation of a functional ecosystem. How are these not sufficient motivators?”

Abiel nodded in understanding. “I agree. I wish the governor had ideals such as yours, but it is what it is, and we have to work with—”

Abiel’s words cut off.

“Abiel?” said Peter. “You were saying?”

But Abiel didn’t answer.

Peter, whose gaze had been fixed on the river’s floor, looked up. And, when he did, his breath caught. He fully understood why Abiel had gone silent.

Before them, floated a massive, amorphous figure. It was obscure and vague in the smog of the Lakhish, but one thing was clear—it was getting bigger, which meant that it was getting closer. Peter swallowed as he watched it approach.

Eventually, the figure developed distinct and unmistakable features. It had cold, black, bloodthirsty eyes and a gnarled snout. Its mouth hung open, revealing what seemed to be thousands of sharp, needle-like teeth. Peter immediately recognized it as a Bull Shark, a common enough sight in the Lakhish. The creatures had been imported to Tisiyyon years ago due to an uncontrollable trout population. But the shark was much unlike its brothers and sisters—like the pike before it, a second head sprouted from the Bull Shark’s side. This head, too, was equipped with an endless array of teeth.

Abiel spoke in a whisper. “Peter. We need to walk away. Be slow to avoid rousing it.”

Peter did as Abiel suggested and slowly stretched his foot backward. The soil crunched beneath the weight of his foot.

The sound, however small and insignificant, agitated the beast. Both sets of teeth flared into a horrifying grimace. It made the motions of a lion roaring, but no sound emerged from its bent and crooked jaws. It rushed towards Peter and wrapped its needled mouths around his torso. Peter lost his footing and flew back with the shark’s momentum.

He eventually landed with a “thud” in the black soil of the Lakhish. How far he was from his original location, he didn’t know. All he could see were the dark, swirling clouds of sediment and the shark’s massive, double-headed body shaking and writhing like a dog tearing up an abandoned newspaper. The metal of his suit saved him from injury, but its effects wouldn’t last for long. By the look of those teeth, the creature would eventually break through.

Peter suddenly felt his body begin to rise.

Peter gasped. It’s carrying me away, he thought in terror.

When Peter’s back had completely broken contact with the ground, the shark’s head suddenly jolted. A red, cloudy substance suddenly filled the air. Though his vision was blurry, Peter could see a hulking, iron figure to his right.

Peter wanted to shout for joy, but his voice only allowed him to wheeze. “Abiel…”

Abiel punched the shark again. The water around them became thick with blood, its redness mixing with the green of the Lakhish smog. At Abiel’s assault, the abomination of a shark released Peter from its toothy grip, and Peter, in turn, dropped to the ground. When he landed, he heard a soft “crack” reverberate through the water. Above him, the shark swam away in a strange, jerking motion.

Abiel offered Peter his hand, which he greedily took.

“Are you okay,” Abiel asked.

Peter nodded. “I-I-I think so,” he stammered. “A l-l-little shaken up, but f-f-fine.”

Abiel patted Peter’s back. “Glad to hear it. Here, let me take the canisters off your hand. I will carry them out.”

Peter unhooked the bag from his waist and handed it to Abiel. As the full bag swayed in the water, the soft clatter of broken glass could be heard. Peter gasped. Abiel, also understanding the implication behind the sound, hurriedly opened the bag, pulled out a canister, and held it out for Peter to see. The glass tubules on the canister were broken. From the corner of his eye, Peter saw a small stream of grey fluid flow out. But as it spanned further into Lakhish’s domain, it dissipated.

Peter was suddenly overcome with a feeling of dread and melancholy. The canisters were broken. The nanobots, their microscopic stores filled to the brim with Balucium pollutant, were roaming free in the Lakhish, now indistinguishable from the filth and smog that so pervaded the waters.

*  *  *

The depths of the Lakhish began to grow lighter and more transparent as Peter and Abiel reached more shallow waters. Beside them, other divers dragged large loads behind them. Up ahead was a concrete ramp leading to the surface. As Abiel and Peter got closer to it, the light shining from above the surface became blinding. It almost appeared to be a conduit to another world. In a way, it was.

When they reached the surface, Abiel immediately removed his helmet. His long, black hair was matted with sweat.

Peter took his helmet off as well, covering his mouth and nose to prevent the soiled Lakhish water from entering his orifices. Though the air on Tisiyyon was warm, it felt cool as it brushed against his sweaty scalp.

An array of large hovercraft carriers were arranged in a semi-circle around Lakhish River’s entry point. The divers around them emotionlessly dragged their bags of Balucium to their respective vehicles and loaded their quarry into their carrying beds. Small rocks occasionally spilled from their bags. They were a sickly, emerald green and covered with irregular ash-like blemishes.

Peter and Abiel’s craft was the smallest of them all. When they reached it, Peter threw his bag onto the carrying bed. The broken glass within clattered and rang, the sound louder now that they were in the open Tisiyyonian air. When the sound had died down, Peter plopped down beside it and sighed.

Abiel plopped down beside Peter and tenderly placed his hand on his shoulder. “Just a small setback,” he said.

“A small setback?” argued Peter. “All the work we did to clean the river is overturned. We didn’t remove any of the pollutant today! How are we ever going to get this river clean?” Peter gestured to the other divers unloading their Balucium. “Look at how successful they were today. Each of those bags represents another weeks’ worth of cleanup. We don’t have the manpower for that! And the small work we do get done is destroyed immediately! What do you suggest we do?”

“We get to work again tomorrow,” Abiel said matter-of-factly.

Peter buried his face into his hands. “What’s the point?”

Abiel looked at the waters of the Lakhish with a dreamy expression. When he spoke, his tone took on that of a man speaking lovingly of his betrothed. “When I look at this river, do you know what I see?”

“Filth?” Peter said sardonically.

Abiel shook his head. “No. I see clear waters. I see the sun shining brightly against the waves, making them appear as molten gold. I imagine days spent by the riverside, admiring the smooth, rhythmic flow of the water. I imagine the lush green grasses the water feeds.”

Peter croaked out a laugh. “Ha! Any grass that grows near the water withers.”

Abiel nodded. “I know… What I described to you was the condition of the Lakhish in my childhood. I still see it in my mind’s eye. The image is strong and potent, almost as if were just yesterday. With my waking eye, I see the filth that everyone else sees. I know that the Lakhish of today is not the glorious Lakhish of my boyhood. But deep down I believe that, despite the odds, despite the forces pushing against us, I will see Lakhish in its full majesty again.”