Midwife Crisis
by Dave Creek
So let me get this straight,” Carrie Molina said. This was only about five minutes after landing on the water world called Welkin. She stood on a landing pad where her small shuttle barely fit next to a submersible craft. The pad stood next to a small Earth Unity base perched upon a motile island. She heard waves splashing ashore and caught a whiff of salt spray. “You brought me here to inject me into a creature called a Leviathan so I can treat its unborn child? What am I, some sort of antivirus or something?”
Carrie saw Matt Christian’s grimace and knew she wasn’t making a good first impression, but she didn’t care. You opened the door with this crazy idea for a mission, she thought, and you take whatever comes through it.
“Not at all,” Matt said. He was a tall, slender man in his late twenties, just a little younger than Carrie. “It’s all fairly straightforward. The Leviathan’s not quite fifty meters long—”
“That’s about twice as big as a blue whale back on Earth!”
“Exactly the analogy I was about to use.”
“And the medical problem it’s having is… what?”
Carrie watched Matt take a deep breath. “Why don’t you come see her for yourself? And as soon as he gets here, I can introduce you to your partner.”
“Partner?”
“He’s someone I work with closely,” Matt said. “And he should complement your own unique abilities.”
Carrie followed Matt down to the shoreline and a dock. No boats were tied up there, but her eyes widened as she spotted a dark presence floating just at the surface of the water. Matt said, “Meet the Leviathan—Varis. She has datalink access, but she doesn’t care to speak to Humans much. She’s a little prejudiced against landside lifeforms.”
He didn’t exaggerate the size, Carrie thought. No wonder they’re called Leviathans. I’ve traveled aboard ships that were smaller.
A closer look, and she found herself staring into eyes the size of bowling balls. Eyes with an amazing intelligence behind them, she thought. And I don’t think I’m anthropomorphizing. Just behind those eyes was a pair of blowholes—Varis was, like an Earthly whale, an air breather, not a fish. A mouth the width of a small shuttlecraft opened and Varis chomped down on a clump of vegetation provided for her at dockside. The chewing sounds were prodigious.
Matt said, “Your partner should be here soon.” He shed his clothing except for swim trunks and jumped into the water. He placed both his hands upon the dark form of the Leviathan. Carrie didn’t hesitate, and removed her own clothing—she wasn’t wearing a swimsuit, but was accustomed to casual nudity—and moved toward the edge of the dock.
Even as she stepped off, Carrie was conscious of the differences between Welkin and Earth. Its .85 grav meant she fell just a bit longer than she would have on the homeworld, and when she dove beneath its waters, she was aware that the water didn’t press against her as much as she was accustomed to.
She took a moment for what Matt called her “unique abilities” to assert themselves. They were, after all, why she was here. As her bioengineered body adapted to her environment, her heart rate sped up to pump blood furiously through her body to keep it warm, and her lungs expanded to half-again their usual size.
Carrie didn’t breathe water, didn’t have gills; the often-used term “Human fish” was a misnomer. Water didn’t retain enough oxygen absorbed in it for the physical exertion she required, and it didn’t transfer oxygen into the bloodstream as efficiently. There were reasons many of the largest sea creatures were mammals.
She shivered slightly as the micro-dermal ridges of her skin, a trait she shared with dolphins, opened up—a goose-bumply feeling. Though barely visible, they trapped a thin layer of water molecules against her skin. That let her glide through the water with less resistance, since liquid flows against another liquid more smoothly than against the Human body.
Before heading to the surface, Carrie took this opportunity to check out the rest of the Leviathan’s gigantic form. She saw what must be an incredibly strong fluke at the Leviathan’s rear. She wondered just how fast it could propel itself through the ocean’s waters, despite its massive bulk. Varis’s sleek underside was interrupted by a round bulge of considerable proportion. That has to be one big baby, Carrie thought.
Toward the front of Varis’s body, just behind those wise-looking eyes, were appendages that looked more like hands than flippers. They were webbed, and she was impressed with the four digits that looked as if they could manipulate objects much as a Human hand would. Tool-using aquatic forms. How did they arise here?
Before she could consider that question further, the Leviathan’s body began to shake violently, sending out strong underwater waves that pushed Carrie away. The surface of the Leviathan’s rubbery skin rippled again and again until the seizures subsided.
Carrie barely had time to react to that when another aquatic form, about the size of a walrus, but much faster, zoomed past her. I never even saw it coming, she thought. What the hell is it? She kicked upward, breaking the surface next to Matt…
…who caught the slightest glimpse of her naked body, blushed, and looked away.
Damn, Carrie thought. One of those. I hate nudity taboos.
Carrie was still figuring out how to regain Matt’s attention when the walrus-sized creature surfaced between them. Over her data-link, she heard, “You must be Carrie Molina. I’m Sarbin.”
Matt turned back her way, though he seemed relieved that Sarbin mostly blocked his view of Carrie. Poor man, she thought. Can’t even enjoy the sight of a good-looking woman.
“Sarbin,” Matt said, “is an Aquatile.” His broad body featured stubby arms, different in detail but apparently similar in function to the Leviathan’s. His wide, bright eyes spoke of an intelligence at least equal to a Human’s. His snout ended in a single nostril. “I’ve heard of your people,” Carrie said. “I’m pleased to meet you.”
“And I’m pleased to be your new partner,” Sarbin said. Carrie heard clicks and low tones that she realized must be the Aquatile’s true speech, which her datalink translated.
Matt said, “Your temporary partner, Sar-bin.” Carrie tried not to react to the firmness she heard in Matt’s tone, or what she believed was a note of jealousy. To Carrie, he said, “Let’s get back on shore, and I’ll let you know what little we’ve figured out about Varis’s seizures.”
Carrie expected Matt to escort her to the Unity base for a briefing. Instead, he excused himself to go inside the submersible shuttle on the landing pad. She would’ve preferred to sun herself awhile and dry off before getting dressed, but decided not to shock Matt’s sensibilities any more than she had to and put her clothes back on. They’ll dry soon enough under this sun, she thought.
Matt’s hand, holding a towel, thrust itself through the submersible’s hatchway. His voice was muffled a bit since he spoke without sticking his head outside. “I thought you might want to dry off.”
Carrie didn’t try to suppress her grin. “That’s okay, Matt. A little late now, but I appreciate the offer.”
Matt’s head moved cautiously from behind the hatchway. “Oh. Sorry.”
“A little water’s the last thing that bothers me. You were going to show me what’s wrong with Varis?”
Matt came down the shuttle’s steps with a holopad under his arm. “Let’s go back down to the water. I don’t want to leave Sarbin out.”