Escape Pod 956: Vault (Part 2 of 2)

EA is now on Twitch. Join us Wednesday nights when Alistair reads a bedtime story, and Sunday

mornings for a few hours of chill, casual gaming. Plus interviews, special guests, pickup

streams and more. Visit twitch.tv slash EA podcasts and follow us to be notified when

we go live. Plus access VODs of past broadcasts.

Escape Pod, episode 957. VOD, part 2. By D.A. Charlene Spires.

Hello and welcome to Escape Pod, your weekly science fiction podcast. I'm your host this

week, Tina Connolly, and I'm here to bring you the second and final part of VOD by D.A.

Charlene Spires. And if this is a surprise to you, then stop, back up, and please go

listen to part one first, and then this will all make sense.

Quite a bit more sense. This story first appeared in Clarksworld.

D.A. Charlene Spires steps into portals and reappears in sites such as New York, Hawaii,

various parts of Asia, and elsewhere, with her keyboard appendage attached. Her work

appears in publications such as Clarksworld, Analog, Strange Horizons, and many more.

She has a PhD in sociocultural anthropology and has conducted National Science Foundation

funded research. Now, besides fiction, she also writes

movies.

And she recently had an article published in Clarksworld about space bees in real life

and science fiction contexts. Part two, about terrestrial bees in science fiction and real

life tech on smart bee hives and other bee advancements, is forthcoming soon. Or is perhaps

already up by the time you hear this through the marvel of modern technology. Now, in addition,

her poem, Two Plottle Stops, which first appeared in Starline, has been nominated for the Dwarf

Stars Award.

And will be appearing in the 2023 Dwarf Star Anthology. Find out more about this honestly

multi-faceted writer at D.A. Charlene Spires dot wordpress dot com.

Your narrator this week is Rebecca Wei-Xia.

Rebecca Wei-Xia, she-her, is a Taiwanese-American actor, writer, translator, and sensitivity

reader based in New York City. Having grown up across several continents, her work focuses

on the interplay between Asia and the Asian diaspora.

Gender, queerness, and mental illness, and has been featured in outlets like We Need Diverse

Books, Wear Your Voice Magazine, Book Riot, and The Dot Online. She's a B.A. in Theater

and Italian Studies from Wesleyan University. And you can find her attempts to use her liberal

arts degree at rwxia.com. Your audio producer this week is Adam Pratt. So get ready to dream

about liquid immersion.

Because it's storytime.

Vault by D.A. Charlene Spires. Narrated by Rebecca Wei-Xia.

Part 2.

Lucas?

Chenguang's voice echoes in this expanse of dark.

A vortex of light over the sky.

The light opens to her right, and she seeps a warped head and legs emerge from a point

in the dark. It's Lucas. As he enters the space, the light bends. His figure elongated

as he pulls himself through, and it closes behind him. It's dark again.

Hey, Lucas.

Chenguang.

His voice is low and resounds against unseen walls.

Where is this place?

Did we just enter this structure somehow?

I... I don't know.

Lucas's voice uncharacteristically wavers before it quiets down in the darkness.

Chenguang remembers listening to her grandma talk about physical experiments of the past.

Pools of salty water that deaden sound. Eternal blackness to sharpen the mind.

A chamber, her grandma called it. One that dispossesses you of your senses.

That was before the planet went up in flames.

Before she bid her grandma goodbye as she left her behind.

Deprived. She feels like that now. There is an ache throbbing within her.

A light comes up in the corner, and they walk towards it. It feels like an infinite space,

paths that lead in every direction, but they move toward the light. They don't run. Somehow

it doesn't feel right here. Chenguang moves her legs, almost robotically, towards the rays.

The light becomes bigger, brighter, and they see it now, and when it becomes the length of a vapor bar,

palm-sized, she stops and Lucas halts behind her. They're standing five feet away.

Chenguang feels Lucas's breath before her, steady, in and out, in and out.

What first appeared like the vapor bar is rectangular and long,

a series of small cubes arranged next to each other, in a line formation.

Pulsing light. Lucas's loud breathing seems to skip a beat,

and Chenguang feels, too, something caught in her throat, as an array of sensations overtake her

body. Her head feels hot, her limbs cold, her spine feels a chill pass through it,

and her legs feel a searing heat travel through them. Her pendant with her calm lifts up and

yanks at her neck. It's pulling towards the light. She grabs it, trying to push it down to

her chest, which is thumping, cold, cold. Lucas has stepped up towards it, and he's reaching.

No, cries Chenguang, but Lucas is faster than her words. He swings his helmet and captures that lit

up bar, no bigger than a packet of gum, like he's playing catcher at meteoroid pitch.

The sensations in her body fade, her temperature returning to normal,

and she's tugging at her chloropolyurethane sleeves again,

she moves up to Lucas, but he reaches his hand into his helmet towards the light.

That's not a good, she starts to say, but a deafening high-pitched buzz fills her ears,

and then there's a blast, and she expects to hear an explosion,

but only hears that shrieking buzz as mushrooming light blinds.

The feeling comes a moment later, lifting up and being thrown up against something.

Her body hurts, aches that fill not only her body,

but also the inside of her mind. The air in her chest collapses at her intake of breath,

and she sees through her closed eyelids the brightness that could only be two suns.

She forces herself to open her eyes. Lucas is rolling back and forth on his back on the roof

ground, holding up his knees to his chest. He's wincing and moaning to himself.

Crap! Chenguang wills herself up and tries to knock some sense into Lucas,

he looks up at her and shuts his eyes, opens them again.

She hefts him up despite his muttering objections. Her knees shake, but she's got him. He's heavy,

at least heavier than she imagined. His arms and legs dangle out of her hug.

Luckily, cartologist runners are more streamlined than bulky, so at least he's not too beefy.

She pulls him away from his cracked helmet, moves him to the far ledge on the roof.

She makes sure he's alright. He's moaning, but otherwise okay, she guesses,

and goes back and peers at the helmet. There's nothing in there now,

just cracked shards lining what was once the perimeter of the head hole.

She doesn't dare move it. Crap! How fast can he run without its aerodynamic edge?

How much sunlight can he collect without its specialized absorption tech? He'll freeze at

night. Without it, he definitely won't die. He'll freeze at night. He'll freeze at night.

He won't generate enough power to activate the heating cells in his blanket.

She plucks the water patch out of her backpack, wondering if she should wait to give it to him

as a warmer at night, like the way she used it last night, but makes up her mind and rips it

open. Tepid water, heated from the ambient air of this land of dual suns, trickles down her hand.

She rushes to lick it, and it feels startling and moist on her tongue.

Water.

She's careful as she brings it over to Luke,

lifts up his head and forces him to drink it. His eyes fly open when he realizes what it is that

he's gulping. She realizes she's licking her lips, and her throat's moving up and down,

a phantom desire to taste what he's having, as she feeds the elixir of H2O to him.

He looks bewildered, and his eyelids shut again. After he has gulped down the bulk of it,

his eyes open again. Just a few drops left that Chenguang loathes to waste,

so she rolls up the package, so light in her hands now, as a contrast to the luxurious heftiness

of the water weight before, and she stuffs the mostly packaging into her pack.

Maybe I'll lick it clean when we pack up for the night.

Lucas's eyes clear up from the haze and look at her as she eats her vapor bar.

She's trying to think, to put together the many strands of thought entangling within one another.

What was that? Where did we go off to?

What happened to that panel block of light bits? What to do with Lucas and his busted helmet?

Water. I wish I could have tasted more of it.

The vapor bar shatters into dry bits in her mouth as she chomps.

Chenguang, thanks. She hears Lucas behind her, saying.

She stops staring into the sky with its twin suns and turns around.

You okay? I don't know. My knee's not right, but I think it'll be better.

Chenguang fishes out e-slaps and helps him put it on.

Your turn for these.

My helmet. It's a statement, not a question.

Yeah. Broken.

What was that?

I thought I'd ask you. You're the one who touched it.

I'm not sure, but I'll admit that was pretty dumb.

Easier to say now, in retrospect. We had no idea what it could do.

Thanks. Nice of you.

Nice of you to say. Though, I'm sorry.

He casts his eyes down, and he does look penitent.

He rubs the e-slaps over his knee.

Shiny blue peeks through his fingers to show they're working.

Hey, you okay?

Better off than you, she says, swallowing the last of her bar.

So, I guess you'll go off. Finish the cartography.

I can poke around here, look for some shelter for the night,

cuddle up next to some concrete.

Chenguang shakes her head.

I think we should go down.

Down?

Into the wasteland. Into the buildings.

Not just graze the rooftop.

There might be something we can use to get you warm.

Maybe some energy source. An old battery or something.

There? There's nothing left. People left long ago.

I don't know. I just get this feeling.

You know, I felt something pull at me. Twice.

Twice.

And that panel of connected cubes of light. Maybe that has energy.

Too dangerous. We're not playing around with that.

I'm not suggesting that. I just mean, we won't know until we look.

There's no way I can map out this planet alone in time,

so if you're out of commission, neither of us will get our cred.

You'll be frozen dead from the night chill, and they'll send new cartographers here.

We'll be in debt, paying for the commute and lift back.

Well, I'll be, and you too, if you manage.

If you manage to stay alive. This is the best way.

Plus, I don't know. I just get this feeling.

Lucas shakes his head.

Lucas, I saw an opening before.

What?

An opening into the buildings.

They're not all sealed off like the High Institute's Historical Society claims.

A space was overlooked. It's way over the side of one of the buildings, about five buildings back.

If we could just make our way over there...

You're crazy.

You sure the blast didn't mess you up?

Going back and entering this condemned space...

Chenguang hooks her arm into his elbow and helps him up.

He limps, then shakes out his knee as he leans on her.

He moves again, and he looks more stable.

The swelling's going down. You're going to make it.

Lucky. No blood, no concussion, right? Let's go.

He tries walking a few more steps. He squats and gets up.

All right.

Hope you can leap.

I'm heading over to the other side.

Leave all the stuff. It'll just weigh you down.

Latch onto my arm if you can't make it, and I'll give you a catch.

Chenguang vaults back, retracing their way back to the building before.

She makes it, though she's not as swift as she once was.

She leans over the ledge and holds out her arms.

She hopes she won't have to catch him.

She's not sure if she can handle the weight after all.

He runs, looks good, tight form...

and jumps and vaults.

It's clean and he lands with a roll onto the roof.

He's still limping a bit.

He's trying to hide it.

They manage to leap, roll, and dash over to five buildings back.

Chenguang looks down the alleyway between two buildings.

The black hole is there.

A window that hasn't been sealed up.

She feels drawn towards it, like a whisper in the back of her mind guiding her that way.

When she sees it,

something like congruity settles in her bones.

We gotta go.

You can make it.

I know you can.

At least the e-slaps will dampen the pain enough, yeah?

She leaps back and forth between the building she's on

and the other one that's slightly taller as she descends.

Like a moth fluttering from one surface to another,

she hops, light and assured until she reaches the opening at the wall.

She perches on the windowsill for a moment,

feeling the cool air of inside on one side of her...

and the heat of the sun on the other.

Come on, she says into her calm,

and she hears Lucas respond.

She alights onto concrete a few feet below the window

and follows the panel of light from the window onto the floor.

Nothing.

Again, she sees nothing.

Before she can walk up and explore,

Lucas falls into place behind her.

Good, you made it.

Now, let's do a search.

They spend about half an hour walking through the place,

lighting up the room with activated ray fabric.

It's the most energy-efficient light they have,

but it's a harsh white glow.

Mostly, it's the rough white concrete that looks up at them.

Chenguang spends some of her pent-up stamina on staircases,

jumping up flights at a time,

passing through the rails.

She's beginning to suspect this to be a great waste of time,

and Lucas was right after all.

When her cartographers,

scrutinizing gaze,

finds a deviation on the tiles of the bottom-most level.

A carved depression,

hooked back like a handle.

She slides her hand and lifts.

A basement?

She talks into her calm.

Lucas, slide down the banister to the bottom floor and get over here.

There's a route down here.

She slips through,

lands with a cat crouch,

and walks in this dark tunnel.

She's feeling out the hollowness

and the perfect curves of the wall,

when Lucas joins her.

Leg okay?

Yeah.

They walk what seems like ages.

The path keeps going and going,

and a prod at the back of her mind's telling her

that she messed up.

Lucas is losing strength.

She can hear it in his breaths,

even if he tries to hide it.

She's wasting time.

Precious time that she could be charting out the world,

or at least soaking up the outside heat for the night.

She prompts her heart to the wall,

and she's at 78%.

Yesterday, she would have groaned.

Today, she's thinking,

not bad, given the circumstances.

The route opens up to a clearing.

Rather than empty space,

the ray fabric shows tangles of webbing.

She manipulates the fabric,

shining the light at some of the strands.

They're cords.

Tangles and tangles of cords.

She hasn't seen old tech like this in ages.

She follows them to their master,

a mask clump at the center.

An AI?

Whispers Lucas.

A voice booms throughout the chamber.

Chenguang shines the ray fabric around,

but the harsh light only illuminates cords.

No speakers,

but perhaps they're implanted in the walls and ceiling.

The voice sounds like it's coming from everywhere.

Abe's key.

Chenguang elbows Lucas and points at his comm.

Turn on the translator.

She triggers her own on.

The voice changes, dark and silky.

You've come.

You were expecting me?

Chenguang gestures to herself as she walks forward,

as if compelled by some force.

Lucas puts a hand on her shoulder

and Chenguang startles in her path forward.

The upgrades.

They're overdue.

Upgrades, says Chenguang.

No, we're explorers.

Well, cartographers, to be exact.

Mapping out this land.

No upgrade?

Sorry, but no.

Drats.

This sounds vaguely funny to Chenguang,

and she hears Lucas smothering up a laugh with a cough.

Who are you?

Chenguang asks.

I'm the Tatl, the Tanesh town center.

I handle all the deliveries and packages.

Last week we produced, inspected, and delivered 72,000 glons.

Of Kenofrin alone.

Even in the midst of the disruptions from the war.

I manage all the trade with the Outer Worlds

and accommodate the schedule of the workers.

Workers, says Chenguang.

She looks around.

The room is bare except for the tangles of cords in them.

Tatl's voice lowers.

It seems awfully quiet.

Too quiet for a war.

Tatl, there's no one here except us.

There was a war.

A war long ago.

Long ago?

The voice lilts, waiting for something.

Not anymore.

The city's been abandoned.

It's silent.

Only a light tapping sound at the center of the wire clump

gives any indication of processing.

Tatl's voice arises again.

Ah, well.

That explains it.

Is it Chenguang's imagination,

or does it sound like its voice fell?

I only awake.

When there's activity and a need.

It's to save on energy.

I must have been idle for a long, long time.

Lucas whispers in Chenguang's ear.

I'm gonna scan the wires.

Chenguang speaks up,

keeping one eye on Lucas who's running his fingers

about half a foot above a wire to her left.

Listen, Tatl.

We'll report your existence to our contractors

and they might be able to get you out of here

or else reprogram you for another use.

More like,

we'll resell you to a less-developed planet.

There's nothing left for you here.

No.

I must stay here.

I know this place will repopulate again.

It has so much to offer.

The jungle,

the soil,

and the resources.

All the Kenofrein.

Kenofrein was added to the RSL.

Restricted substances list,

pipes up Lucas.

For years now.

Tatl's voice rises.

I'll have to reorganize some of my programs,

prioritize probing new resources.

Tatl, hey, Tatl, listen.

Before you do all that,

there's something we need to ask you.

There's a strange pull that I've been feeling,

messing with my movements.

Part of it has led me here.

A pull?

Well, there's a kind of double panel structure

up on the roof a few buildings down,

and when I try to pass through it,

it's blocked.

But somehow,

it led us to a dark space

with a palm-sized slat of light

made up of individual cubes.

Did you touch it?

Yes, and...

It exploded.

Tatl's voice speaks definitively.

Lucas locks eyes with Chenguang and nods.

Yes, Tatl.

We reached out to it and it exploded.

Landmines.

Chenguang was thumbing her pendant absently,

but stops.

What?

I don't understand.

They're mines?

Yes.

Weaponized organics.

I know there are still quite a few around.

I tried my best.

I really tried my best.

I...

Hey, Tatl, I'm sure you did.

We'll need to get rid of them.

They can't be here.

I wish I could help you.

But when the organics were dead,

they were easy to discard.

You just needed to wrap them in some melalophane.

Now they're awake,

and their properties must be all different.

Lucas stops what he's doing,

his hand mid-air and speaks up.

Awake?

Organics?

You mean they're alive?

These landmines are alive?

If enough time has elapsed,

as you say,

then, yes,

they're alive.

Lucas and Chenguang exchange a glance.

Even in the diminishing light of ray fabric,

she can read his expression.

Anxiety at the crinkles of his eyes,

his mouth upturned.

Triple crap.

Are they conscious?

Conscious?

Are they intelligent creatures?

I don't know.

I only knew them when they were dead.

They are easy to find and harvest,

an easy tool for the Cathal.

But I know the species has a long dormancy.

Not dormancy.

Death, really,

as they have no vital signs.

Vital signs of their own kind, that is.

They experience a growth process thereafter.

They start off simply a physical entity with no life to them,

but the life sprouts later.

The detonation still works while they are without life.

It's called their mortem period.

The explosives are the best.

Best, then.

Clean and with wide range.

My directory tells me that when they are awake,

their explosives are less predictable and less effective.

Perhaps a small burst.

Seems counterproductive to life,

to be able to explode like that.

It's a protective strategy, you know.

To protect the nest.

In case someone comes, they'll detonate.

But each detonation is unique

and doesn't affect other individual cubes.

Their death period allows conservation,

only when resources are good

and predators few do they come alive.

Altogether, they form one big colony.

They are harvested in layers and planted as mines.

Do they communicate?

Not when they're dead.

When they're alive, what do they look like?

Light.

They light up.

An indication of life.

Isn't that like many other organisms?

Not all.

Chen Guang says,

looking at Lucas's e-slaps on his knee,

their light is fading.

We gotta go,

says Lucas.

He motions at the ray fabric.

Chen Guang was so focused,

she didn't notice how quickly the light had dimmed there too.

Just tell me of these landmines,

if they're intelligent,

if they communicate.

If they do, then this isn't an abandoned area.

It'll be rezoned and redesignated.

I wish I could tell you.

I haven't come across one.

Maybe I will soon, though.

Since I'm awake now.

Come back and visit me, okay?

It's too quiet in here.

And if you don't, I'll sleep again.

And who knows when I'll awake.

Tatl is still talking as they rush through the tunnel,

the light fading quick.

They need to rush back and retrieve their tents and packs

before it's pitch black.

Chen Guang's mind races as fast as her legs.

They cannot, in good faith,

finish their job as cartographers

if they are living in a place where they can't see anything.

They can't.

As she sprints down the tunnel,

she runs through her sensations from before.

The pulling, the urge to get closer.

Perhaps pheromones or some other release of the organics.

She's thinking of the sensations when she trips.

No, not again.

Lucas is there with her,

snagged in the sub-layer.

They approach the light that pulses at them.

The fragment of the slab that is the landmine.

as long as we don't touch it we're okay i think just don't go near it says lucas but he's disobeying

his own advice drawing closer and closer so does chenguang her pendant around her neck flies up a

bit wavers and falls and flies up in tune to the pulsing she can't help herself she approaches

closer she feels a swarm of feelings in her body she is warm-blooded yes she is warm-blooded but

her toes feel like ice her chest like fire her eyes like a subtle warmth her hands the gentle

coolness of a spring day in her home world she wriggles her fingers her toes they feel like

different worlds disconnected a thought dawns on her she breaks through the visceral impact of the

feeling and she's not alone she's not alone she's not alone she's not alone she's not alone

and turns to lucas who is spellbound probably feeling all the same sensations you think they're

communicating with us the light pulses they're not changing just rhythmic on and off no the

temperatures you feel that he draws up next to her his misty breath of icy coolness tells her

his response i'm hot cold warm everything in all different places chenguang closes

her eyes she's not alone she's not alone she's not alone she's not alone she's not alone

her eyes focuses on the different feelings permeating in her body she imagines stalls

different stalls all over they expand all over the planet stalls of different temperatures and

the minuscule light cubes that bob along from one stall to the next she sees many ecosystems in each

stall some filled with other organic life cohabiting symbiotic forms of activity she opens her eyes

she's still in the middle of the room she's not alone she's not alone she's not alone she's not alone

in this sub-layer space she doesn't touch but pulls her hand close to the cubes in front of her

emanating light each cube shoots out a different temperature acutely different palpable lucas

close your eyes and focus on your body on all the different temperatures chenguang shivers the chill

in her spine deep as she closes her warm eyes again she sees the image again different stalls

life organisms that look like trees she's not alone she's not alone she's not alone she's not alone

trees foliage and moving beads that slither on the ground tiny wispy helicopters floating in the air

in each stall are these cubes like the ones before her in this sub-layer some clumped together like

clusters emanating light and a particular heat signature she opens her eyes only to see lucas

open his his pupils contract in the growing light of the landmine he strokes his beard with a hand

as he drops his jaw

i can't believe it they're communicating with us by heat and cold do you think they're sending us

some image of the past of this planet no no the files never showed the planet looking anything

like what i just saw stalls cubicles you might call them yes with different flora and maybe fauna

if you could call them that some organisms anyway chenguang feels an excruciating heat in her nose

is it one of ascent

in her cold gut she feels something like a yes like something agreeing with her the feeling grows

not the past she whispers the future lucas stares at her with his strangely contracted pupils

yes yes you're right it's their vision of their future they're trying to tell us they have plans

for this place i think maybe you might be right

the impression of her body being isolated into various cells and splashed with varying amounts

of heat and lack thereof starts to dissipate the light of that bar of connected small cubes grows

dimmer and once out of that trance of multi-thermal arrest chenguang realizes that their fabric ray

light has died out completely without moving they're pulled away from that sub-layer space

and returned to their dark world in that abandoned building no not abandoned

simply derelict they run leap out of the underground tunnel up into the basement feeling

their way through their leaps vaults and tumbles are more cautioned in the dead of the dark

and they make gradual progress towards the roof they are lucky the moon is out not trapped behind

clouds like the other night the return of light graces them with their characteristic fearlessness

to pick up speed as they spring and leap back to their tents

you

bound by a fierce love for personal space tonight chenguang invites lucas into her own tent

he refuses staying in his tent until she's sick of hearing his teeth chatter through the comms and

utters if you die of cold i will string you up with the wires of the ai and you will spend eternity

with chatty tattle who cares i'll be dead he says but his footsteps say otherwise and she hears the

sound of the breach of the seal as he fusses with the tent opening

at night they lay side by side neither of them cold not until at least the collected energy

powering the thermal blanket drains and the chill seeps in by then it is near enough to dawn anyway

they'll survive yet another night she grabs his hand not out of romance but a sense of camaraderie

or a feeling of being alive or of feeling warm she doesn't really know he squeezes the hand back

props up on an elbow and looks her in the eye and says i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm

the eye heat emanating from his skin last partner died of thirst accident microhydrogens short

circuited after a bad tumble that zippy pack was to remind me of the dangers of these worlds

she nods not sure what to say sorry doesn't really cut it this is their life stark and cold

light on our feet but we all carry our burdens she says holding up the picture of her sister

i do it for her that seems to satisfy him he lays back down closing his eyes

she can feel the coolness of the pendant on her chest through her transpandex and imagines her

sister's smiling face there would be no energy harvest here this place would be rezoned that

means no cred deposit for the mapping no moving out of the hive for her sister and the rest of

her hold up hermits but her sister is not alone she's not alone she's not alone she's not alone

is a softy she would like the story one of a species discovered with her free hand chengguang

pause at her pendant feeling its coolness in her fingertips one thing strikes her she reviews those

sensations from the sub layer in her mind when she felt the discrete areas of different levels

of hot and cold to take over her body when she could imagine the entity that strip of connected

cubes pulsing at her making her envision the temporal and temporal state of her body

in a morally distant space she noticed something that imagined future that vision it wasn't simply

stalls of different levels of heat there was something else there she couldn't pinpoint it

at the time because it had been too long it became too foreign but she knows it now lying in the tent

in the escaping heat the chill breaking all logical resolve and allowing her mind to wander

it wasn't just temperature

there was a distinct feeling of heaviness of a heaviness in the air that could only be moisture humidity

the minds those beings they didn't simply envision a future with various temperatures

they envisioned one with various climates with dew fog steam it was a feeling that had

pervaded her nose tickled her esophagus as it went down with the air as her body went

through the shock of manifold degrees

water and she felt deep in her heart that it would be real in her cold induced haze of half

sleep clutching onto a warm rough hand she knew this would be a place that exists and not far off

but in the near future the feeling she only now could disentangle she realizes is a process that

had catalyzed and was coming to life a part of the communication a pit feeling that she could not

fully disentangle the feeling that she could not fully disentangle the feeling that she could not

decipher until now

and not only would this vision become real

but it would become a place that her hold up people could trade with for the ever scarce water

how the mind beings will make this water filled ecosystem she does not know

but there is much she does not know about the terraforming abilities of these creatures

only that they can explode and creep into atmospheric sub layers

but she feels that if she closes her eyes and focuses on the heat in her body

and drifts off memory she won't be able to escape from it

she will only be able to escape from it

she is the one who will stay alive until the end and when she's gone away from her heart

so reason no longer prevails.

She can imagine herself and her sister

in a time she cannot place,

sharing a warm, thirst-quenching drink of liquid tea,

she realizes.

A warm, dewy mug of tea with steam

that rises and rises into the atmosphere

as she licks her lips and falls asleep.

And we're back, and again,

that was the second and final part of Vault

by D.A. Charlene Spires,

narrated by Rebecca Wei-Shian.

Now, I shared some of our author's thoughts

with you last week,

the ones that wouldn't be too spoilery,

so I thought I would share the rest of them this week.

And she says,

I was inspired by several different strands of thoughts

when I was conceptualizing this story,

including the fluid, impressive beats of parkour,

what a desiccated, arid planet would look like,

and how preciously lush our Earth is in comparison,

archaeology,

what characteristics alien life might take on,

lonely AIs,

and sibling bonds shared over hot months.

Whether soup, tea, or ramen.

All these different strands of thought came together as Vault,

and I'm pleased that Escape Pod is giving the story

new narrative life with a fresh voice.

And about the story I say,

gosh, this was a cool world.

I was quickly sucked into this tale

of two people parkouring their way through an alien landscape.

I really like super-competent protagonists,

and this was neat to see the two of them know exactly

how to go bounding across the world.

And also know how to make the most of the sun

in order to survive the cold nights.

I also thought the little blue cubes that communicate with heat and cold

were way cool,

and a lovely, intriguing turn in the story.

The Aishali Inspires always does a lovely job

creating intriguing sense of wonder worlds.

I had the pleasure of narrating her story,

Erasure, for Toasted Cake, several years back.

So if you haven't heard that,

check that out if you would like to hear one of her evocative,

little flicks.

Flash stories.

EscapePod is a part of the EscapeBirders Foundation,

a 501c3 nonprofit,

and this episode is distributed under the Creative Commons Attribution

on Commercial No Derivatives 4.0 International License.

Don't change it. Don't sell it.

Please go forth and share it.

How do you share it, you ask?

Well, in addition to your social media of choice,

consider rating and or reviewing us on podcast listening sites

such as Apple or Google.

More reviews makes for more discoverability,

makes for more EscapeBird for you.

EscapePod relies on the generous donations of listeners

exactly like you.

And remember that Patreon subscribers

have access to exclusive merchandise

and can be automatically added to our Discord,

where you can chat with other fans

as well as our staff members.

So, if you enjoyed our story this week,

then consider going to escapepod.org

or patreon.com slash eapodcasts

and casting your vote

for more stories

that dream of restoring the water.

Our opening and closing music

is by Daikaiju at daikaiju.org

and by Daikaiju at daikaiju.org

And our closing quotation this week

is from Haruki Murakami,

who said,

Exerting yourself to the fullest

within your individual limits,

that's the essence of running,

and a metaphor for life,

and for me, for writing as well.

I believe many runners would agree.

Thanks for listening,

and have fun.

I'll see you next week.