[Original Novel] Metal Fever 2: The Erasure of Asherah, Part 58 (the finale!)

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Part 57}

Trusting our lives to remnant tech as the sub scooted along, only pitch black visible through the dome was a touch dicey. Neither Dad nor I slept a wink of that first night at sea. When at last there was a glimmer of blue visible outside from the rising sun casting its rays down through the surface, I uttered a prayer of thanks to the sea.

One thing I somehow forgot to factor in, back when I was loading all these MREs, is how smells accumulate in a confined space. Not just the samey, stomach turning smell of congealed fats and msg, but how they smell coming out as well.

It quickly got so bad that we surfaced prematurely, just to air out the interior. Dad took more convincing than I would’ve, still wary that the surviving enforcer could’ve followed us all this way. But the sky, upon opening the hatch, was once again as beautifully empty as I could ask for.

While we were topside, I ran the generator. The racket made it hard to have any sort of conversation until I closed the hatch, Dad and I sunning ourselves on the sub’s surface deck. “I’ve never come out this far before. Who all do we need to look out for?”

He took a minute to cotton to my meaning. “Oh, well. We’re traveling from South America to the mainland US in a stolen narcosub jam packed full of milsurp rations. So...Navy, Coast Guard...other narco subs...everybody, pretty much.”

Somehow, I dreaded more the prospect of explaining to the authorities why we appeared to be smuggling MREs than how it would go if we’d left the drugs onboard. A drug run? Sure we’d do hard time, but our presumed motives would be understandable from their perspective. A dude and his old man in a sub full of dried eggs, lasagna and peanut butter sandwiches? Less so.

An incoming gas storm drove us back down into the sub, the irony not lost on either of us. After sealing the hatch and submerging to a depth of 250 feet, I resumed course. Reclining against the hull, I reflected on the bizarre series of events which put me here.

Some of them lucrative. Others disastrous. But then, it’s not an adventure if nothing goes wrong. Dad asked what I was so preoccupied with. How could I answer that concisely? “All of it, I guess. The big come down. Hard to believe it’s all over now, after I learned so much. I’ve been through some fucked up shit before, but nothing that left me so...transformed.”

Dad remarked that it said alot, coming from a guy who’s body hopped twice in the past decade. I think he knew what I meant. He’s just as bad at articulating complicated emotions as I am. The tree doesn’t grow far from the apple.

After a minute or so of thinking, he actually did come up with something that fit the occasion. Dad cleared his throat. “No man steps in the same river twice. For it is no longer the same river, or the same man.” I smiled, inwardly trying it on for size. “Yeah, alright. I’ll take it.”

That wasn’t all I took, though. Safely nestled in a concealed pouch within my armor, there gently jostled a sack full of seeds that I lifted off the chieftess during our final embrace. No doubt she’d be hopping mad when she found out, having made big plans for those seeds...but I felt certain mine were bigger.

These little seeds don’t look like much, not the way they are now. But if planted in places where the conditions are right for them to flourish, they will put down roots in the world of metal. Roots from which a new, softer world will grow.

Still, I somewhat dreaded her first transmission. It had to wait until we surfaced so the radio signal could reach us, airing out the sub interior once again as the generator recharged the batteries down below.

To my surprise, there was nothing about the seeds in it. After selecting the notification and opening the message, it read simply “I am ok. Found 12 survivors in the caves, guided them safely home. Flying metal thing did not follow. Are you ok?”

I confirmed that we’d been underway for a day and a half without any sign of pursuit. Then added that I couldn’t stop thinking about everything Asherah taught me during my time in her care. I swore I’d carry those teachings with me back to a society in dire need of them.

It took a good long while before I got a reply. Maybe something to do with the unreliable connection at sea, or maybe she was just taking her sweet time to think it over. When it finally did come in, it read “They will hate you for the same reason that they hated me; because you tell them the truth.”

Then came an attachment. Without the benefit of a satellite bridge, downloading a color photograph was agonizingly slow. Worth every hour, in the end. It depicted countless bright eyes and big smiles. The happy faces of the villagers.

Nearly a hundred of them! Alive somehow, and in perfect health...though something was amiss. Their skin was a deep, rich green and their hair looked as though it was grass. Behind them, more could be seen busily digging at various spots in the soil.

“Was struck by an idea when I returned to the village” the caption read. “Found the womb still intact. Guess what else I put into it?”

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^{The End.}