Frank Fisher tried to move. When that proved impossible, he tried to open his gritty eyes. Not much success there either. Images of planets and moons went through his mind. Thoughts of the empty void of space and the cold depths of interstellar oceans chilled his heart.
Briefly, he considered it odd how in movies when a character wakes up after a life-threatening situation they often ask themselves, or others, "Am I dead?" In the bleary moments of Frank's returning consciousness and the realisation of his battered condition, he could frankly see an upside. His throat was as dry as the Martian desert and his mouth tasted like sulphur. He felt like he'd been tenderised.
After some minutes he cleared his filmy eyes. The dimming blue of Europa's ocean stirred around him. It took a moment to realise he was inside a translucent oval orb, and that its luminescence originated from an array of plant life growing along its inner surface. He could breathe, which meant oxygen, though a sweet, heavy scent invaded his nostrils.
Memories stirred in his aching head. Exploration of Europa was well underway, and the fact that so many had gone before him had been reassuring. No anomolies in the oceanic conditions had been forecast. Frank remembered encountering a black smoker - a nebulous hydrothermal spring - and was collecting samples of plant life nearby. He wanted, needed, to go a little deeper. He yearned to discover and unearth, like the ancient explorers back on Earth.
That's when he hit trouble. The controls in his bucket had gone crazy as he went deeper underwater, and radio contact with the others was lost. Shortly after, the lights on his craft had failed and he fell and fell, the safe ceiling of ice miles overhead and growing more distant. Icy water flooded into his craft leaving only his suit for protection. Pain! Jagged rocks and more pain! One final moment of terror flashed through his mind - a luminous creature reaching towards him. Its blue endoskeleton flashed across his vision before unconsciousness swallowed him.
He tried to lift his head. This time, he succeeded, and at the same time became aware of a presence close by. Similar to the material of the oval construct, the figure was just a complex outline of blue light. It's limbs were too numerous to count, and what may have been antennae poked randomly from its upper parts. Frank assumed that the bulkier part was its head - a strong, bulbous mass with a golden wad of matter burning visibly inside. Four barely discernible circles of yellow light, possibly its eyes, were spread out - two at the front, one on each side. The complicated tendrils along the bottom of its mandible began to vibrate.
Like the pages of a book being flicked by someone's thumb, the sound rustled its way through the thick, subaquatic atmosphere. For a few seconds Frank gawped, uncomprehending, until the sound morphed and expanded around the phosphorescent bubble.
"You are well now human?"
It didn't sound like a question, such was the decidedly certain tone of the words. The rational part of Frank's brain seemed to be waiting for mortal terror to appear, and was confused by its notable absence. He felt no danger, despite the monstrosity that was addressing him.
"Where am I?"
"You are close to where you had your accident. It is our intention that you return unharmed from where you came."
"My bucket..."
A couple of its antennae twitched. Frank offered clarification.
"Er, the DSV - Deep Submergence Vehicle. My craft."
"We have almost completed restorations. It is our intention that you return unharmed from where you came."
"Uh, okay. Good. Thanks."
The creature stood, unwavering, in silence. Frank got the impression that it was not averse to more conversation.
"May I ask a question?"
"We await your question."
"What the hell are you?"
"We are the Amylode. We live. It is our intention to continue to live."
"Okay, wow. And I'm the first one to meet you? The first human?"
"The veracity of that statement is inaccurate. We are known to humans. Not to this human, but to humans. It is our intention that the humans remain unharmed."
Frank finally accumulated enough strength to sit up. Only then did he notice the strange bed of coral he lay on. It shifted underneath his weight and it exhibited a strange sense of sentience. During the course of the effort, he noticed for the first time the black lines stretching from under his armpit downwards around his back.
"Your anatomy was breached during your accident. A large amount of the liquid that sustains you was lost. In order for you to persist, we were required to transfer a replacement fluid into your circulatory system."
As if reacting to Frank's expression of concern, the beast jerked awkwardly, as if to move to assuage his fears.
"Your alarm is unnecessary. The Amylode specialise in genetic technology. It is most advanced. The replication of your cellular matter was elementary. We are satisfied to have granted you necessary aid. This is already known."
"Don't you want something in return? From humans? Maybe we could share technology, or resources?"
"We live. We are satisfied. It is our intention to continue to live. It is our intention the humans remain unharmed. Unnecessary contact should be discouraged."
It cocked its beastly head and flicked out a limb randomly. "Restoration of your vessel is now complete. You may depart The Amylode when you wish. The surface of the orb will disperse when you board the vessel. It is our intention that you return unharmed from where you came."
It shifted strangely to the side and scuttled to where the lustrous vegetation converged.
"Hey, thanks. I'm grateful, you know."
It paused, twitching.
"Yes. You are known to us," it said, disappearing into the darkness beyond.
*
Back on base, Frank was ordered to enjoy some compulsory R&R. A drama played on the vidiscreens on the wall. Some winsome, melodramatic young thing was elucidating the pitfalls of love in the twenty-third century.
"It's all about trust. It has to be earned, not stolen!"
He glanced at the online medipedia, and the information he'd researched on circulatory systems and the cellular breakdown of blood cells, before shutting it off. He hadn't even read it. It seemed somehow unnecessary now, as though his perspective had broadened, along with his horizons. He scratched at his dark scars absent-mindedly. They had faded fast.
"Evenin' sport, enjoying your time off?"
Doc Thompson stood in passageway to Frank's quarters, chewing gum. "I got some good news buddy, you're going home early. Head Office gave the orders, you're to be shrinkwrapped and posted back to Callisto pronto. Plus, and you didn't hear it from me, but there's talk of a promotion too. The samples you've collected will give us an even better idea about the biological possibilities. Congrats again."
Frank stared blankly as Doc left, wondering exactly why he'd never spoke of the Amylode to anyone on the base. As far as anyone knew, he'd lost contact with the team, before arriving back to base a day later with some standard samples of Europa's marine life. He'd tried to tell them, but something held him back. For the first time in his career, his life, he felt a reverence for the unknown. As though he'd rather let the secret exist as it is, rather than compulsively desire to unearth it. He wheeled his seat over to the porthole and peered out at the huge rafts of ice and the vapour-thin atmosphere of Europa.
He would return to Jenny and Mya soon - a few more weeks to them but just one long sleep for him. Mya would be almost five now, but only two of those years had been spent with her father. He had some catching up to do. One day he'd tell his daughter about the Amylode - share his secret with another person - but only after he let it ripen inside him first. A secret should be kept and loved and only revealed at the right time. Only when it was ready to reap the rewards. Frank would reap the rewards. "We all will," he murmured.
