She moved on. Madison Square Garden was hard to find, and harder to photograph, so little was left. A shark approached her shot of Radio City Music Hall, and Soo-Jung snapped a few pictures as he drew near. He passed her by close enough that she could reach out and pet his rough skin, to which he flicked his tail in her face and swam lazily off. The light of the camera’s review screen was bright enough to hurt her eyes, but she smiled see this shark swim around her insert photo of some Rockettes on a smoke break.
From the Music Hall, Soo-Jung swam over what remained of 30 Rock towards the Cathedral, the camera bouncing against her side with every wide arching frog kick. She was getting cold even through her wetsuit, and she tried to keep shaking her limbs out under the water to compensate. Saint Patrick’s was in good enough shape that she could snap several photos of her insert, struck by the spires cutting through the dim sunbeams underwater. Grand Central Station was in slightly better shape than Madison Square Garden, but she doubted the photo of would live up to Caroline’s standards. The insert Caroline had picked was of scores of refugees waiting for the evacuation buses, and the columns they filed between were now little more than sand.
From Grand Central, she swam her way leisurely down Lexington Avenue, soaking in the ambiance of the city. She only made her way up toward the surface once she could touch the Empire State building, using it as a measure of how fast she rose, careful to go slow.
Breaking the surface was exhilarating, a flash of warmth upon her face, and the sudden influx of new oxygen made her dizzy. Her heart rate came back up rapidly, pulsing out a seeming protest for her exertions right up against her temple. She flipped onto her back, lazily kicking her legs until she reentered the Empire State building back floating. She still spent a good hour inside the Empire State laying in the small pool made by the girder, legs hanging on either side, letting her heart rate come down.
“Be back soon,” she lied into her walkie, pushing her long kayak back to a time when she could sit up without being dizzy.
*
The sun was nearly under the horizon by the time Soo-Jung paddled up alongside the boat Caroline had rented for the day’s “fishing” trip. Half anticipating the Coast Guard to materialize, Soo-Jung grasped Sunil’s proffered hand, letting him pull her up onto the deck. Sunil then pulled up the kayak, flexing synthetic muscles and the strength in heavy metal infused bones. Soo-Jung found Caroline under the shaded cabin, bent almost double over her own forearm.
“Anything good?” Soo-Jung asked, humor stolen by her uneven breathing. She had pushed her enhancements hard today. She made a small sweeping gesture at the fishing rods assembled against the railings by the cooler.
“Hm,” Caroline spoke up, staring at the screen affixed into her forearm. Soo-Jung knew that Caroline would have eagerly downloaded the photos the moment Soo-Jung was in range. Later tonight, after Caroline had edited them for clarity, they’d be up on the internet.
Soo-Jung grabbed the railing and used it to help her on her way down, grunting and grimacing as she sat. She fell the rest of the way, muscles protesting, pressing her back against the railing. She was going to be sore tomorrow. Also, very possibly arrested. She half wanted to joke about using her prison time to sleep, but a nervous lump had taken up residence in her throat. It was hard to see Caroline’s expression through the curtain of her hair.
“I don’t think there’ll be a single building above the waterline soon,” Soo-Jung told Caroline. Her expression was somber, but lightened for a moment to hear the word ‘nice’ somewhere to her left and treated Sunil with a brief flicker of a smile as she tapped his fist with hers. “It’s worse than they’re saying,” she said, serious once more.
Caroline didn›t answer. Sunil made noise about getting them out of there, and Caroline didn’t so much as flinch as the boat began to move again, kicking up seawater. Soo-Jung was almost asleep when Caroline finally looked up.
“This is beautiful,” Caroline said, swiping her finger up on her screen, turning in her swivel chair to face the large projection. Caroline had brightened it in the few minutes she’d had it, and the picture of Soo-Jung’s great-grandmother gleamed in front of the murky library.
“My great-grandmother,” Soo-Jung identified, a bit nervously.
Caroline settled back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. “We’re leading with this one,” she said. “Times Square’ll be all over everywhere once it’s out there,” Caroline continued, flipping her hand. “I’ll publish it tomorrow. I want this one first. I want it to be personal. Why else did we do this, if it wasn’t personal?” She shook her head. “Never really cared about the buildings.”
Soo-Jung wiped her eyes on the back of her hand. It made them sting with salt. Sniffing, Soo-Jung smiled. “Me neither.”
Victoria Zelvin is a graduate of the inaugural class of Roanoke College’s Creative Writing program. Her fiction has previously appeared in publications from Meerkat Press, A Murder of Storytellers, and others. She currently lives just outside Washington DC in Ballston, VA with her one eyed cat, Leela.
The Descendant
Katy Lennon
Art: Siobhan McDonald
ENTRY 1
Health and mental stress levels are normal this morning, with the exception of a slight toxin increase. Nothing so extreme so as to cause TOTAL BRAIN SHUTDOWN or even DANGEROUSLY HIGH LEVELS OF CORTISOL, both of which require my emergency intervention protocol to automatically
enable itself.
#
The problem isn’t
#
that he didn’t know what happened, it was that he did fuck
#
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all about it!I’m telling
you
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he needs to know that he’s allowed to
#
help!
John always enjoyed his cup of tea in the morning, with honey instead of sugar. Sugar is much too sweet; honey is just right. I asked John if he would like a cup of tea, to which he replied that he could murder one. (This implies yes.) There was no milk in the fridge, and the milk delivery had not arrived; close examination of the empty milk bottle still standing on the doorstep confirmed this. I told John there was no milk and afterwards I made him some toast. He did not eat it. We had a surplus of bread, so this was an acceptable course of action. We watched the news together, and John told me to pay attention when the news anchor spoke about a government plan to help citizens leave the city. That was the first time this command had been issued to me, so I was unsure of what course of action to take. I have recorded the transcript here:
“…initiative undertaken by First Minister Taylor Singh on Wednesday morning, when she announced to the Scottish Parliament that even though the city remained, quote ‘a fortress of familial security and strength’ that plans to evacuate the areas closest to the wall’s perimeter were ‘a purely formal procedure’ set out in Edinburgh City Council’s Catastrophe Strategy of 2045. Singh compared the evacuation to ‘flossing one’s teeth in order to prevent tooth decay; a pre-emptive measure’. The FM also urged the public to stay calm and collected in the face of this minor adjustment. Shuttles carrying nearly 5,000 residents of Lower Edinburgh will be leaving the city over the course of the coming weeks, journeying through the Vastus to a government controlled safety zone.”
