Lakshmi's Daughter
At first, nobody was worried about the rain. Then they learned the truth- somehow, water had
changed, and the Earth had too much of it. So, as clouds thickened across the atmosphere, thick, blotchy drops of rain pelted unsuspecting civilization, and on July 16, 2041, the Earth began to flood.
The driest regions were the first to go silent, as the vast canyons of the American West once again became raging rivers, the African Savanna flash flooding, killing humans and wildlife indiscriminately. India's lush jungle expanse absorbed much of the rain, but her leaders knew they would soon follow the rest of the world. With time running out, they evacuated as many families and supplies as they could onto military cruisers. Healthy pets, heirlooms, livelihoods, all left behind. And so, as the first military cruiser newly christened Lakshmi weighed anchor, those left behind stood watching in fear, waiting for the inevitable.
"You just left them there?! That's horrible!"
"Who is telling this story, child? We had to, though not a day goes by that I don't remember their faces, as though they were already gone."
Manasi sat silent for a moment, feeling the weight of her grandfather's sorrow. "You know, Baba, I'm seventeen. Hardly a child."
"Well, I'll stop calling you child when you're as old as I am."
"But I'll never be as old as you- you get older too!"
Baba chuckled. "Mama, is dinner ready yet?" He leaned in towards Manasi. "Bet it's fish again," he whispered.
"I heard that," Mama scolded from the houseboat kitchen. "And for your information, I've made a lovely stew for us."
"Oh, wonderful! What's in the stew?"
"Fish," she replied innocently. "Come now, it's getting cold."
Manasi got up from the rug she and Baba had been sitting on together and crossed the interior of the houseboat to sit at the makeshift wooden table. "So, back to the story. I can't imagine. It must have been awful back then. What about my parents? Did they... you know?"
Baba and Mama exchanged a brief look. Mama gave a noncommittal half-nod. Baba sighed, chewing on a chunk of fish. "Well, you already know that Mama and I couldn't have children, even if we had been allowed to. In fact, if I hadn't been the captain of The Lakshmi, we might not have been among the Voyagers. And maybe, if we hadn't been on the ship, your parents..." Baba sighed again. "Well, we did the best we could raising you, and you have been such a blessing in our lives, my dear." He smiled wistfully at Manasi, then clasped Mama's hand.
Manasi scowled at the sappy compliment. "Thanks, Baba. So, my parents, they're... gone. Why did you wait so long to tell me?"
"Eat your stew, child. After dinner, I have a gift for you."
The conversation turned towards more practical things; their houseboat had been drifting around the Saharan Swamp for the past few weeks, and Mama wanted to head further north. There had been fewer clouds lately, so the solar generator had more power than it typically did. Now was the best time to look for more Voyagers. After dinner, Manasi conspicuously walked back to the rug and sat with her legs crossed. Baba laughed softly. "You're ready for a gift already, then? Very well. Here, let me..." He pulled out a medium sized box reminiscent of a shoebox. As Manasi opened it, he began to explain.
"Some of the scientists in the military with me, they had learned that the composition of water had become completely different on a molecular level. They didn't know why or how it was even possible, but everything was thrown out of balance. Before the residents of The Lakshmi went our separate ways, the engineers were able to produce a handful of these diving suits." Manasi could see what he was talking about. It appeared to be a typical rubber wetsuit, but it had no breathing apparatus, as far as she could see. It was quite lightweight, too.
"Now, the scientists, they realized that the oxygen content was proportionally much higher than it had been. Additionally, other gases that we normally breathe in had somehow become bonded to the hydrogen diatom, forming a huge ring around it. And with that knowledge, they produced this."
He handed Manasi what appeared to be a modified gas mask, slimmer in design and with no face glass. "With this, I was able to dive hundreds of feet below the surface and salvage various supplies- enough to build this houseboat. I think Mama and I have worked long and hard enough. It's your turn, child."
Manasi looked up at Baba. She felt tears brimming in her eyes, but she didn't care. She rushed Baba with a powerful hug, holding tight for what felt like eternity.
"I... can find my parents. Baba, I don't know what to say..."
"You can start by saying thank you," he said with a stern voice and a pleased face.
"Thank you so much," Manasi whispered, trailing a hand across the wetsuit fabric.
"One more thing. We love you very much, and you're like a daughter to us, but as you've probably already put together, we aren't your grandparents."
"Of course not, Baba. You and Mama always wanted kids but never had any. I still love you both, and always have, and always will."
That night, it began to rain. Thoughts swirled through Manasi's head, driving away any chance of sleep. She sat up in her cot and decided to meditate, focusing on the steady percussion of raindrops.
Patapatapatapatapata...
She would need a way to get to India. Her grandparents wanted to go north. Could she sail all the way, or would she need a motor? Where would she even get one?
Patapatapatapatapata...
You can't answer these questions tonight, she scolded herself.
Focus on the rain, and forget everything else.
Patapatapatapatapata....
Patapatapatapatapata....
Manasi woke to Baba's weathered hand on her shoulder. "Time for breakfast, child. Today is a big day."
Manasi looked at him quizzically, still sleepy. He just shook his head, smiling. "Eat, then come outside."
When Manasi arrived on the deck, Baba was there holding the wetsuit and breathing apparatus, as well as a tablet. Pointing to the tablet, he explained, "this will navigate for you. Solar powered, and waterproof, of course. The wetsuit will alleviate some of the water pressure, allowing you to dive deeper, and you already know how the mask works. So put this on, and I'll show you what to do. Get in the water. The tablet has a flashlight- you'll need that to see. Good. Now, try to breathe with the mask. Yes! Now, dive as deep as you can."
Manasi followed this instruction hesitantly, starting slowly. At first she couldn't see anything but the silvery fish darting away from her, but then as she dived deeper she could see strange structures floating in the depths. With a start she realized it was trees. The tablet made a sharp noise, and text appeared on the screen. DEEPER, it read. Manasi rolled her eyes, then continued pushing herself downward. Eventually she reached a point where she could feel pressure even through the wetsuit, so she stopped. GOOD NOW LOOK, the tablet beeped. She looked around again. She could make out huge shadows underneath her, but the tablet light only illuminated what was right in front of her. Nothing moved down here. She looked up, and realized she couldn't see light from above. Was she that deep? DON'T PANIC BREATHE IN HOLD. She took a deep breath in, and held it as long as she could. Light slowly began to filter from above as she floated back up to the surface. She exhaled, then took another deep breath. Soon enough, she broke the surface and saw Baba smiling down at her.
"Well, what did you think?"
"It was quiet down there. And lonely."
"It wasn't always that way. The deep sea used to be teeming with life, but now anything that can live that far down there is microscopic. Manasi, if ever you do see anything moving down there, do not panic, do not rush for the surface. Hold your breath, and let your body float for you. Surfacing too quickly can cause sickness."
Manasi nodded, pulling herself up onto the deck of the houseboat. "So... I was wondering. Could I go to India?"
"How are you going to get all the way to India?"
Manasi frowned. "Well, I didn't want to ask-"
Baba interrupted. "Is she ready yet?" He yelled.
Manasi was confused for a moment, and then she heard a torrent of Indian curses coming from inside. Mama came out, lugging a solar motor behind her.
"This just needs to be attached to the hull, and she'll be ready, Baba."
Baba smiled at Manasi's astonished look. "We've had this old motor for far too long. I'm sure you can make better use of it than we can." He winked. "That motor should push you about 30 kilometers an hour. If you keep pressing forward while you still have daylight, you should make it to China in a week. There's still land there, barely. Tell anyone you're a Voyager and you should be taken care of. We've also packed food and your belongings- well, Mama has," he amended at a look from her.
For the second time in as many days, Manasi could feel tears in her eyes. "You know, I think I could stay just a few more days," she said. Baba smiled.
"We would love that very much. Every day we had you was a gift from Lakshmi. We love you very much."
Manasi smiled, looking east, shading her eyes from the rising sun.
"It'll be waiting for me. I'll miss you both, so much."
The pale sun continued to rise over a world with hope.