Missed the beginning of the story? Start with Part 1 here, or catch up on Part 3 here.
“I am Mihandra,” the woman in the white coat said finally, after looking at the last child’s face. Her eyes were intense, wide, piercing — and then they became kinder, softer, more gentle. “But you may call me Ihani, as it is what I prefer.” A large number of children repeated the name aloud, chorusing ihani throughout the room. The sound, echoing, whispered the name again and again back at them. A few of the children giggled at the effect. Some whispered to their neighbours. Ihani merely raised her hands, and all became quiet again, though Cola could swear she still heard the echoes of the woman’s name against her eardrum. Ihani. Ihani. Ihani.
Yet Cola also felt her nerves were on fire. Her eagerness was beginning to be a burden. She just wanted to get started.
Finally, Ihani began to speak.
“2940, I am your cohort leader. Together, we will embark on The Outgoing. While you are with me, you will come to me with problems, with joys, with sorrows. We must remain open to each other. However I am not your parent. I will not be here to coddle you. There are things you must work on as a team to overcome. And some of these things will come from inside of you. Remember that. You will face many tests, yes. These will be easy for others to see. Your struggles will be apparent. But none of us know your inner workings. Not yet. So these, too, you must share. Do not stay quiet in pain. Do not stay quiet in joy. Our goal is calibration, not order. Because out there, knowing exactly what your team is thinking without having to speak will make the difference between being dead, and staying alive.”
Finally, Cola smiled. This gave her a clue, something to work with. Some kind of metric to understand, analyze, and tackle, which settled her slightly. Soothed her rushing brain as Ihani then launched into the formalities that were always a part of every gathering. First, she spoke of the first peoples of Carm, their sect. How they were able to breathe where no one else could, and this allowed them their choice of land in the desert. She spoke of how they dug the Lake as a refuge, and how over time it became their strength.
Then, she went further back, to the beginning of the water wars 300 years before, where water was stolen while machines poisoned the rest. How the survivors of those wars shared no demographic – not race, religion, politic, or class – but were nevertheless brought together by a random mutation of biology that some had, and some didn’t.
“We all know that when the common enemy is death, humans bond. Indeed, many of those early survivors bonded together, tightening their communities into little packs. They thirsted greatly, but went on and on. And this worked, for a while. But still, many of those early sects died off. Still too much war in them. And there was much learning that needed to happen. Much rebuilding from the scraps. It took a hundred years or more for the first Cola prototypes to arrive. And a hundred more years before the sects stopped fighting over that, too. Indeed it has barely been a hundred years since our communities have remained allies. And all of this is because of the Outgoing.”
Cola had heard all of this before, but somehow, the way that Ihani spoke made it all the more exciting. How the first Outgoing was an accident. That a group of young delegates from multiple sects got lost making their way from one sect to another, and found water. Actual water. But because they had never seen it in their lives, they didn’t realize what it was. They merely took notes, samples, and drew a map that they hoped would lead them back there when they returned home.
“To them, the water was just an alien feature of the planet they were on, and nothing more. And certainly it looked nothing like Cola, so they left it. It wasn’t until they got back with the samples, and to their sect elders that they realized just what they had found.”
Cola’s mind raced ahead in the story as Ihani spoke. She knew already that the pool of water became lost to the young delegates. That no matter how they turned their map this way and that, they couldn’t find it again. And the water they brought home has never been used. It sits, still, in the vials they took that first time.
Cola had never seen the vials, nor had any of the children in that room. But she knew from looking at her that Ihani had seen them. Cola stared hard at the woman, who still spoke of the origins of the Outgoing that Cola knew by heart.
But when she came to the part about the vials remaining to this day, Ihani paused. Which was normal; this was usually the end of the story, at least, where the Outgoing was concerned. The next part of the script was usually about how the knowledge of water spurred the sects to unify in another way, bringing about prosperity for many in the middle of the salt desert. Instead, Ihani said:
“The Outgoing, to this point, has been kept very secret from you.” She paused, and Cola sat right at the edge of her seat, listening harder than she ever had in her life.
“I have told you one thing about The Outgoing already, which is that we require collaboration more than order. But there are other things you must learn.” Here she smiled a small, kind smile.
“Now I must ask you, because I know you have creative imaginations: what do you think the Outgoing is?”
Many children wiggled in their seats now, even Cola, who raised her hand and hoped it was higher than everyone else’s. Ihani looked around the room and pointed at several children in succession, nodding after each answer:
“A trip!”
“A scary trip!”
“We walk a long way.”
“You make us really thirsty!”
“We meet lots of different adults!”
Then Ihani pointed to Cola, who spoke up in her best voice:
“You test us to see where we fit.”
Ihani’s eyes crinkled.
“Well, I suppose that’s not too bad considering some of the rumours I know go around between children.” Some of the kids who didn’t raise their hands shivered, their white knuckles clutching the bottom of their seats. Cola had heard some of those rumours, but refused to believe them. That they would be left alone in the desert and made to find their way back, just like the first Outgoing. That they would be put to hard work and whoever didn’t die was allowed back home. That they had a magic man who would look into your heart and see if you were worthy, and if you weren’t, they would feed you to the birds and big slugs.
Cola shook her head. But still she looked at Ihani hopefully, willing her to say that her idea was right. Already she had begun to overanalyze her answer. By habit, she thought about telling Yin after, and a chill crept through her. Stop it, she told herself, rocking to soothe the rising panic. Instead she focused again on Ihani, and struck the thought of Yin from her mind.
“The Outgoing does test you.” Cola sat up straighter in her chair. “But it is not our test. We do not host it. This is part of the first lesson you must learn – and what we have been trying to teach you to now. It is that we do not control the conditions of our experience. We cohort leaders could put a test together for you, but what would that tell us, other than what we already want to know?” Ihani stayed silent for a moment, and began to pace slowly, comfortably, along the head of the stage.
“The Outgoing is a ritual that helps us place you in society. Together, we will take a pilgrimage. And during that pilgrimage, we will calibrate. We will brace ourselves in the face of the open desert, amidst nothing but each other’s humanity. This is both a thrill and a burden. For your secret heart is no longer yours to hold alone. This is the second lesson you must learn. That from this day forth, you will become a kind of mind reader, even if your lineage does not possess the talent. You will be able to see into others. Yet they will also be able to see into you. This will make you uncomfortable, as it has made us all uncomfortable. But it is essential for your development now, that I teach you what I know of this practice.”
Cola had slid further and further back in her seat as Ihani spoke. Her spine had slumped somewhat, and in some ways, she felt like trying to make herself smaller. All her life she’d had dreams of the tests they would put them through. There would be guards like Sam and Samuel with clipboards who would give her a good grade. She would explore all her skills. Learn new tools or weapons or both. But never in all her fantasies had she pictured anyone else with her at the finish line. Always it had been her, alone, receiving the praise she so desperately wanted, everyone else a little step behind her. She screwed up her face, and tried to smooth it again, losing track of what Ihani was saying. Wasn’t this why her and Yin and everyone else had to say their goodbyes? Because they were on their own now?
Cola bubbled with frustration that barely hid the fear underneath. She did not want to rely on others. She did not want to calibrate. Adults had always liked her, but other children? Not so much. They called her names. Made fun of her scar. She ignored them, mostly, but there were times when it did hurt and she became angry. Angry with wondering how others did it. She’d only ever found Yin. Her brother. Her best friend. She didn’t think she could do that with anyone else.
Cola pushed back tears and forced herself to pay attention to Ihani, sitting up a little straighter again. Ihani’s eyes passed over her row, and her, and this time looking back at her, Cola’s heart felt warm. She breathed deeply in, and out, and listened more calmly as Ihani continued to speak.
“Now, you have not seen me, but I assure you, I have seen you. Today, and before today, I have seen you. You have been my cohort far longer than I have been yours. But do not let this make you nervous. I feel confident in you all.” She paused again, breathing deeply as if she was about to deliver solemn news.
“Yet there are a few among you who I was tasked with selecting for a very specific role. You see, the first Outgoing, before it was officially named that, was made up of a group of five. And because today is the start of your Outgoing, I can tell you that we intend to make that same pilgrimage to the place where the First found the water.”
Here, she waited again for the excited whispers to die down. Cola did not turn to anyone, but looked straight ahead, waiting for Ihani to continue. For this, at least, was something Cola had expected. A trip. A journey to the outside. An opportunity to leave her tent behind. As long as that was still part of the deal, she could be happy.
“But we are obviously more than five. We have multiplied that by ten, and some. However, this ritual, this journey, must have it’s key players. There are parts of this exploration that are dictated by tradition, though we keep these minimal. Superstitions, if you will, that we honour. This, also, is a part of the calibration, as we connect ourselves back to the First ones that found the water. For this is our hope too. To find the water.” Again, she paused. Breathed. Looked in our faces.
“Which is why we have chosen our own five, each from a different lineage, to play the part, and act as our token guides throughout this journey. These are not your leaders. They follow me as much as you do. But I have brought them here to get us closer to that first Outgoing. To build the reality of what’s about to take place.” Here, Ihani gestured to a few chairs in the audience that were empty. Cola thought it had been weird, the extra seats, but she just assumed more people than Yin hadn’t shown up. Now she looked at them, a creeping sensation settling up her spine.
“You’ve noticed, yes, that there are empty seats among you. I have kept these players apart for a reason, and I will not share it. However now, I will introduce you to them by their new names. I have given them instructions, shared already their roles with them. They are actors, but know they fulfill their place with honest hearts as we all must on our journey together. They are not hiding anything from you, only wearing a new name, playing a new part.”
From one of the halls leading into The Lake, five people walked, the same age as Cola, though all of different heights. And they wore funny clothes, old fashioned clothes adorned with beads and paint, and even headbands and bangles and other such things.
So strange did they look that it wasn’t until they got closer that Cola realized it was Yin who walked among them.
This is a short story in progress from my working short story collection called “THIRST: Stories from a Post-Water World”. Part 5 coming soon!
For more stories like this one, read Share. Or, enjoy this story from the beginning with Part 1 here.
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