Leviathan

Everyone remembers the moment the Whales descended from the clouds. Where they were, what they were doing, and what they saw. It’s like my parents always said they could remember the exact moment they learned Steve Irwin had died.

‘Who is Steve Irwin?’ Khurn asked.

‘An old actor. Or not really an actor, more a zoo-keeper who was on television a lot.’ I could tell Khurn didn’t appreciate my response. His broad tongue slowly reached up and brushed over his lidless eyes. I thought all Jerboa did this until I met a few others. Turns out Khurn just does it when he’s confused, irritated or trying to avoid telling the truth.

I read on.

James, my best friend at the time, had been shooting cans on his dad’s property. Learn to shoot something small so you can easily shoot something bigger. “Bigger” became a relative term when we first saw the whales drinking from the Pacific Ocean.

I had been jumping on my trampoline in the backyard, trying to go higher and higher. I heard it before I saw it. A long and low, serene moan echoed across the sky. It ended in a crackling grumble, making me think at the time it was some kind of weird thunder cross lighting weather event. The sky was overcast with those bubbly clouds—

‘Mammatus,’ interrupted Khurn.

‘What?’

‘Mammatus clouds. Those are the clouds you mean. You should just say that. It will make you sound professional.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘Research, son. We needed to learn about your atmosphere before we even leave our ships. You called them Mammatus clouds, because they look like hundreds of breasts hanging from the sky.’ Khurn tilted his head back and opened his mouth its full extent. A quiet rasp came from his throat. This was the Jerboa version of “rolling on the floor laughing”.

‘Ok, right. Do you mind?’ I raised my slate again and moved past that sentence.

The Whale burst through the clouds directly above my head as I jumped up. Like many that day, I didn’t realise what I was seeing, but presumed it was descending straight down towards me. I fell onto my back on the trampoline and rebounded a couple of times as the Whale pulled out of its nosedive, its underbelly streaking overhead for a full five minutes before its four-pronged tail disappeared beyond my view.

I wasn’t the only who was who was shocked into watching the sky. My parents, who were driving home at the time, pulled over to watch the same whale burst through the clouds. Maybe they were watching in silence as well. I never knew as the semi-trailer who hit their car was also watching the sky. I was immediately put into foster care which was not a kind way to spend your pre-teen years, especially in the chaos that followed the arrival of the Whales and the further chaos that arrived with “Those That Followed”. I know my 2040 story is not a unique one. But what is unique is ten years later—

‘Did your parents die young?’

‘Uh, no.’

‘Did they die at the end of their life? I forget when humans typically die, son.’

‘Back then it was 80, or 90 Sol Years. They didn’t die at a time in their life when most people die.’

‘And is that sad for all?’ Khurn used “for all” when he was referring to all of humanity, or something close to that. I think it was more to do with a predominant cultural empathetic trend or meme. He seemed to use it most when talking about videos that had gone viral or when talking about the baseball “world” series. He said baseball reminded him of a Jerboa game he played a long time ago.

‘I guess so. It was definitely sad for me, and I didn’t have any family in Australia that I knew about. As “for all”, their deaths were collectively mourned in the way all the deaths on that day were mourned.’ Khurn nodded in a strange imitation of human nodding. He did this when he understood.

‘Can I just finish this? I really want your thoughts.’

But what is unique is ten years later I have moved past the grief and anger I felt as a child and discovered opportunity in the creatures that caused so much tragedy, specifically “Those That Followed”, the Tsitchkin. Since I was twelve, I have found solace, family and, most importantly, working experience with a Tsitchkin crew based out of Melbourne’s Xeno-Town.

‘You should call us Whalers as they might not know what Tsitchkin are.’

‘Stop interrupting.’ Khurn let out a throaty, apologetic rumble.

For six years, the Tsitchkin crew have been training me and teaching me to understand Xenotech, including its application, maintenance and repair. I have repaired hundreds of Hover Panels, built Quantum Energy Trappers from the ground up, and re-programmed Zero Point Navigation Systems. I am the only human in a city of 10 million people to have worked on Xenotech to practical ends.

As such, I believe I would be one of the best candidates for CSIRO’s Hardship Scholarship for the Xenotech Acceleration Program. What I lack in formal education, I make up for in practical experience. Please find attached my CV and reference from my current boss and employer, Khurn.

Thank you for your time and consideration,

James Mansi

I took a deep breath and let Khurn finish reading my CV. He held up his slate and said,

‘Your lack of education is apparent.’ He flashed the screen towards me and showed me the half a page of information I was able to muster.

‘It could also be an issue with my translator,’ Khurn tapped his ear holes, ‘But your style changes throughout your letter. It starts off very personal and story-like – like we’re talking – and then changes to a request for employment.’

I collapsed back into the old couch.

‘Well how would I know how to write one of these? I’ve never really done it before. It’s like applying for a job, but I need to also show that I have sufficient working and “hardship” experience.’

‘Maybe include some of your prototype schematics? That enhancement to wireless sun power, or the vending machine with localised transposition?’

‘I can maybe mention some of them… but I don’t want to give away schematics. My back up is to sell the plans.’

‘Well son, you mentioned the anger and grief you felt as a child; I remember that.’ A deep, cracking chuckle emitted from Khurn’s open mouth, ‘But what about your other positive qualities. Your sense of humour, work ethic, and dedication?’ I started jotting down notes on the slate, and an idea came to mind.

‘Why did you let me stay when you found me? You could have just kicked me out, or worse.’ Khurn ran his tongue across his bottom lip.

‘Your opposable thumbs. I saw potential in them.’ I couldn’t help but laugh. While Khurn meant it as a joke, he was telling the truth, or at least to some extent. Jerboa never lie, or they’re incapable of it. I was never sure. However, Khurn had shown me over the years he was very good at avoiding the truth.

‘How long do you have to submit this application?’ asked Khurn.

‘Applications for the scholarship close in a few weeks. I have another two months for the Xenotech Acceleration Program.’

‘Plenty of time to re-write and solidify your letter.’ I reached over to the side table and took my energy drink, sipping on it while I read back through my letter which did seem a bit all over the place. My CV looked worse as it only held my primary school and “Mechanic at Khurn’s Repairs”. I watched Khurn tinker with a broken beacon before I decided to bring it up again.

‘You know, I wouldn’t have to do any of this if you just took me with you.’ Khurn’s face froze. He was upset, causing his face to freeze. I needed to give him some time to relax, otherwise he wouldn’t be able to respond to me at all.

‘I know that thing about humans not being able to withstand SlipSpace Travel is bullshit. That woman just came back from Jupiter yesterday.’ Khurn didn’t look at me and kept rotating the beacon rhythmically between his eight fingers.

‘You know I can do the job as well as any of the others now. And I’m young, which means I’ll be around for a while.’

‘I expect the others to be around for a while as well.’

‘I swear Brikix mentioned they were over 2,000 Sol Years old, which doesn’t sound right. But then again, they sure act their age.’ Khurn chuckled again before turning to face me.

‘There are laws—’

‘I didn’t think you had a government.’

‘Rules then is maybe a better word. Rules to which for all must adhere. New Tsitchkin are not allowed.’

‘Again, that’s bullshit. Some crew over in the US are taking Tremon Ellison. It was on the news.’ Khurn slowly licked his eyeballs. He didn’t seem irritated or confused.

‘Another way to phrase it: We must maintain constant numbers. That human is replacing a crew member that died in an accident.’

‘So, I can only come if one of your crew members does not?’

‘Exactly.’

I quickly pushed aside some of the dark thoughts that entered my head.

‘You can’t just outfit extra ships, insert an extra sleeping bay, or something like that?’ I heard the whine in my own voice. I couldn’t let Khurn see my cry.

‘It is not about the ship space or survivability,’ said Khurn.

‘What is it then?’ Khurn didn’t answer. He found it easier to not respond than to bend the truth, and much easier than tell the truth it seems. I lifted my slate back up to in front of my face and pretended to make more notes. Khurn shuffled over and rested his hand on the top of my head.

‘I will help you with your application. You will live a good and prestigious life here on Earth. Which should last many more thousands of Sol Years thanks to the Tsitchkin.’

‘I would rather live a happy life with all of you.’ Khurn’s face froze again, only for a moment this time. Now he was sad.

‘Our lives are not happy.’ I waited for Khurn to say more, but he just stroked my hair to try and comfort me. Eventually he stopped and walked back over to his workbench to pick up his slate.

‘I have an idea for your application letter.’

‘Yeah?’

‘What about this?’

In approximately two Sol Years, the Whales are going to migrate back into space and continue their travels. When this happens, the Tsitchkin are going leave with them. The Xenotech Acceleration Program is designed to education human scientists in a two Sol Year period. I have been working as a Xenotech mechanic for the past six years already and am told I am as good as any experienced Tsitchkin. Also, my parents are dead, and I am a street rat.

‘Where did you learn the phrase street rat?’

‘The movie with the spirit in the lamp.’ I sighed and did my best to give Khurn a smile. He was trying to help. He wouldn’t do that unless he cared, I think.

‘I get you point, I’m already six years ahead of other candidates.’ I scratched out a couple of sentences near the top of the letter and started writing. I worked through several drafts until it was dark outside. Despite the darkness, the workshop’s lights didn’t turn on. Khurn had forgotten that I couldn’t see in the dark like him.

While he may not agree, Khurn couldn’t conceptualise what he and the crew meant to me, and that there was nothing on Earth for me. The part in my letter about them being family was true and whether Khurn accepted it or not, I felt more Tsitchkin than human.