Chapter Text
Jake squinted as the lights flickered on to illuminate the cryo vault. Medical technicians floated weightlessly, pulling themselves around as they tended to the hundreds of people awakening in their cryo capsules.
“Are we there?” Jake whispered hoarsely.
“We’re there, Sunshine,” the technician answered him.
“How is everybody flying, Daddy?” Tuk asked Jake.
“There is no gravity—the thing that keeps your feet down on the ground—while up in space. So, you float.”
“It looks fun,” Ao’nung commented, watching as the medical technician drifted around the large vault.
“People, you have been in cryo for five years, nine months, and twenty-two days,” the technician announced. “You will be hungry, you will be weak. If you feel nausea, please use the sacks provided for your convenience. The staff thanks you in advance.”
“You were on the ship for almost six years?” Lo’ak asked, his eyebrows shooting up towards his hairline. “That is almost as old as Tuk!”
“Yeah, but it felt like a nap.” Jake shrugged. “You do not age in cryo—you cannot feel the time pass. I was still twenty-two in my mind and body.”
Ao’nung couldn’t imagine being able to just pause life. How could the body survive without food or water? Did it? Or were they technically dead while in this long sleep? Why would sky people even want to do this?
“Wow,” Tsireya breathed as a massive planet filled the screen, surrounded by dozens of moons. The largest of these moons, covered in gorgeous blues and greens, came into focus. “Is that Eywa’eveng?”
“That is us,” Jake confirmed, a small grin on his face. “Pandora.”
The sound of drums returned, bringing with it the vivid green of the forest—which covered massive areas of undisturbed land—and wispy clouds swirled around the tops of towering cliffs. Ao’nung marveled at the sight for a moment, only briefly, because he’d never seen so many trees. The islands he’d grown up with were small compared to this vast landscape. He stood by the notion that Awa’atlu and the reefs were far more beautiful, but as he watched great winged creatures soar past rushing waterfalls and rivers, a small part of him thought it would be neat to explore the forest.
Suddenly, the lushious rainforest gave way to an open-pit mine—a lifeless crater of destruction and large machinery.
Neytiri growled, and Jake pulled her against his side to comfort her. Ao’nung had never even been to the forest, and even he felt anger stirring in his stomach at the devastation to the land. The sky people brought nothing except ugliness and death to their beloved moon.
A human colony, Hell’s Gate, sat behind the mining field. A chain-link fence topped with razor wire surrounded the borders, blocking out any unwanted company—and was backed up by large gun towers at the corners.
“Exopacks on!” a man shouted as the scene changed to the inside of an aircraft, where a row of people in camouflage uniforms were seated along the wall. The passengers quickly donned their masks—except Jake, who began fidgeting with the straps in confusion. “Remember, people: you lose your mask, you’re unconscious in twenty seconds and you’re dead in four minutes. Let nobody be dead today—it looks bad on my report.” The man stopped beside Jake and said, “Exopack on, let’s go!”
“Come on, Dad, they are not even difficult to use!” Kiri teased. “Spider knew how to put his mask on when he was a toddler.”
Spider, the weird sky boy who was now staying with the Metkayina clan after the battle at Three Brothers. Ao’nung was still uncertain about how he fit into the Suli family, since he was most definitely not Na’vi— or one of the demon-blooded ones, like Lo’ak or Kiri. He was a sky person, that much was clear, but he was an odd one. He stained blue stripes into his skin, wore an Omatikaya hairstyle and the clothing of the clan, and spoke Na’vi as fluently as Ao’nung himself did. Though if he wasn’t mistaken, he’d heard his mother speaking about how his father was the crazy uniltìrantokx who the recent battle was against—which really called into question why he was with the Suli family at all.
But then again, Ao’nung didn’t find Spider all that much weirder than he found the Suli kids who had four fingers and hair above their eyes. The whole family were freaks—even if he was growing to tolerate them.
“We all learned how to work the exopacks when we were toddlers,” Lo’ak said.
“Why did you have to learn?” Ao’nung wondered. “You did not need it to breathe.”
“There were humans in our clan,” Neteyam explained. “Well, on the outskirts of it, anyway. Like Norm and Max, the people who came when Kiri had her seizure—”
“That is not why,” Kiri interrupted. “We had to learn because we would drag Spider out into the forest all the time, and we needed to know what to do if his mask came off.”
“It was for both of those reasons,” Jake settled the dispute.
“Go directly into the base!” the man continued to yell. “Do not stop! Go straight inside! Let’s go, let’s go! Keep moving!”
The colonists jogged down the ramp of the landed aircraft and headed into a chain-link-covered walkway that led to a large complex.
[There’s no such thing as an ex-Marine,] Jake’s voice narrated. [You may be out, but you never lose the attitude. I told myself I could pass any test a man could pass.]
Within the tunnel, two Sec-Ops watched the newcomers with laid-back, but judgemental demeanors.
“Look at all the fresh meat,” one of them said.
“Is that…” Lo’ak trailed off, his eyes darting anxiously toward Neteyam, whose jaw was clenched tightly enough for the muscle to twitch.
“Yes,” Jake said, his voice hard and dripping with a hatred that made Ao’nung shift uncomfortably in the hammock he was in. “Lyle fucking Wainfleet—the jackass who shot Neteyam.”
“Ah!” Neytiri snarled. “I will kill him as many times as I need to.”
Jake rolled down the ramp, immediately grabbing the Sec-Ops attention.
[Back on Earth, these guys were Army dogs, Marines—fighting for freedom. But here, they’re just hired guns, taking the money, working for the company]
“Check it out, man,” Not-Wainfleet snickered. Something in the back of Ao’nung mind said his name was Fike. “Meals on wheels.”
“Oh, man.” Wainfleet shook his head. “That is just wrong.”
Jake came to a stop as a huge tractor roared by on mud-covered wheels, his eyes lingering on the handful of arrows sticking out from the tires. Once it passed, he continued towards the walkway.
“What’re you two limpdicks starin’ at?” Jake sneered.
“I thought Wainfleet was ugly as an avatar —but he was even uglier as a human,” Kiri said, her mouth twisted in disgust. “That is probably why he was such a dick.”
“Language,” Jake half-heartedly reprimanded.
“Because he could not get girls?” Lo’ak laughed. “Probably.”
“It must be sad being ugly and lonely,” Neteyam agreed.
“Are any humans attractive?” Ao’nung asked—because he had not seen a single one.
“Yes,” Kiri said. “Some.”
“If she says Spider, I am going to kill myself,” Lo’ak said under his breath.
Kiri’s eyes grew wide and she looked around herself almost frantically—apparently searching for something to throw, because when she found nothing, she slipped her bracelet off and chucked it at Lo’ak’s head.
Lo’ak flinched as it made contact with his ear, but he devolved into a fit of laughter when he looked back at her scandalized face.
“Wait, you have a crush on Spider?” Tsireya asked, an incredulous smile on her face.
“No!” Kiri snapped. “Lo’ak, give me my bracelet.”
“It is mine now,” Lo’ak refused as he tauntingly dangled it in the air. “You gifted it to me.”
“I did not.”
“Just like you do not have a crush on Spider?” Neteyam asked.
“I will drown your skxawng asses in that pool over there,” Kiri threatened through gritted teeth.
“You are very touchy with him,” Lo’ak reasoned.
“The hand-holding, the painting on his body, the lingering looks,” Neteyam listed.
“And if you touched my chest the way you rest your hands on his, you know that we would both puke,” Lo’ak said as he slid the bracelet onto his wrist.
“Hold on,” Jake said, his eyebrows doing something very tense and a bit twitchy. “I thought you and Spider were like… like, siblings.”
Kiri massaged her fingers into her temples. “Can we stop talking about this?”
“Yes,” Jake tried to agree, but Neytiri apparently had other plans.
“You cannot have a crush on Spider,” Neytiri demanded. “He is… he is human, and—”
“I do not know how to explain Spider to you! He is not a brother, but he is also not… like that. It is not about attraction,” Kiri stressed. Then, before Neytiri could speak again, she rushed out, “And you cannot say he is human like it is a bad thing, when you mated with one!”
“Not while he was in his human body!”
“So you would not love him as a human?”
“Of course I would. I love his heart.”
“So then why does it matter that Spider is a human?”
“How would that even work?” Neytiri pointed out. “You cannot even mate with a human.”
“Technically—”
“Nope!” Jake intervened, his face mildly horror-stricken. “No, we are not talking about this. Absolutely not. I do not want to hear anything about any of this.”
“Kiri, you are going to kill the mighty Toruk Makto with your monkey boy crush,” Lo’ak said. “He is going to die of disgust. And so will I, by the way.”
Tsireya tried to cover her laugh with her arm, but Kiri noticed it—and Ao’nung could see the Evil Sister Energy building in her eyes.
“Well, if that does not kill him, his heart will definitely give out when he learns what you have been doing with the Olo’eyktan’s daughter.”
Ao’nung’s attention shot to his sister, who was much less amused than she was only moments before.
“Lo’ak?” Ao’nung exclaimed—almost cried, really. “Out of any boy, you picked Lo’ak?”
He had noticed the looks the two had been sharing since the Suli family came to the island, but he didn’t think they were doing anything. What had they been doing, exactly? No, actually, he didn’t want to know. He really didn’t. But ugh, did this mean his sister was going to force him to become family with the guy? Ao’nung was still working on getting used to his mere existence near him!
“Tsireya?” Tonowari said, surprise heavy in his tone.
“Olo’eyktan Tonowari, Sir, I—” Lo’ak tried to speak, but the words seemed to die in his throat.
Tsireya looked like she was about to attempt some sort of excuse, but a loud crash pulled everyone’s attention back to the screen.
A vicious winged creature had smashed into the chain-link, gnashing its fangs against the steel as its long, skinny tail darted through one of the holes—the glistening stiletto at the tip just barely missing Jake.
“Stingbat,” Neteyam said. “Some people in the Omatikaya clan tamed them. They would call them by whistling, and the stingbats would ride around on their shoulders.”
“They are so cute,” Tuk cooed—clearly not seeing the same deranged predator as Ao’nung. “They have a venomous tail, though—so you have to be careful.”
“Oh, venomous tails,” Ao’nung said flippantly. “How adorable.”
Wainfleet raised his pistol and blasted the stingbat, his face careless as if he’d simply shot a wall, rather than a living thing. The stingbat dropped onto the ground, tail still lashing about in its final moments.
“Seen a lotta guys leave this place in a wheelchair,” Wainfleet mused, eying Jake. “Never seen anybody show up in one.”
Jake ignored him, wheeling himself further down the walkway towards the main building.
The scene cut to a pair of combat boots walking along an aisle, the view slowly tracing up the uniformed man’s muscular body—lingering for a moment on the large gun strapped to his hip—before finally reaching his face. Scars littered his exposed skin, but the most prominent ones were the distinctive claw marks that were carved into his scalp on the side of his head.
“That is Quaritch,” Lo’ak recognized. “Spider’s dad. And the one who took us hostage.”
“Too many times,” Tuk complained, a disgruntled frown on her face.
“I do not think humans are very attractive, but at least Spider is better than him,” Tsireya said.
“True,” Neteyam allowed, and Ao’nung nodded in agreement.
“You are all unbelievable,” Kiri grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest.
“I am literally begging that we do not talk about Spider anymore,” Jake said. “Kiri is not allowed to have any crushes.”
“I am not saying it is a crush, but if it was, why could I not have one?” Kiri asked. “I am going to complete my Iknimaya soon, and then I will be an adult.”
“To the Na’vi,” Jake argued. “Too bad you are part human, meaning you cannot have crushes until you are eighteen.”
Ao’nung raised his eyebrows. Humans were not adults until they were eighteen? Did that mean their duties in their village were child-level until then? Thinking back to how much free time he had when he was young, he didn’t think that sounded so bad.
“You are not in Kansas anymore,” Quaritch said to the room full of people. “You are on Pandora, ladies and gentlemen. Respect that fact every second of every day.” He pointed out a nearby window at the dark treeline, then continued, “Out beyond that fence, every living thing that crawls, flies, or squats in the mud wants to kill you and eat your eyes for Jujubes.”
“Then you should go back to your own planet,” Neytiri reasoned bitterly.
“We have an indigenous population of humanoids here called the Na’vi. They’re fond of arrows dipped in a neurotoxin which can stop your heart in one minute. We operate—we live—at a constant threat condition yellow.”
“Your arrows are poisoned?” Tonowari asked Jake and Neytiri.
“When we shoot our arrows, it is not for fun. It is not a warning.” Neytiri said. “What we shoot will die. The poison makes sure of it.”
“These are talking about hunters’ arrows,” Jake clarified. “After their Iknimaya and Uniltaron, when they are adults of the clan, they make a hunter’s bow and arrows. The arrows used by children for training are not dipped in poison.”
Tonowari nodded. “I understand.”
“As head of security, it’s my job to keep you alive. I will not succeed,” —Quaritch paused, eyes scanning the room— “not with all of you. If you wish to survive, you need a strong mental attitude, you need to follow procedure…”
[Nothing like an old-school safety brief to put your mind at ease,] Jake’s voice spoke over Quaritch’s fading voice.
Then, Jake was wheeling himself down a hallway as people rushed around him in both directions with their luggage. An eager young man ran to catch up with him, staggering under the weight of an overpacked duffle bag.
“Norm!” Kiri cheered, her face lighting up. “He’s so young—look at him.”
“He was so excited to be here.” Lo’ak grinned, before looking over at Tsireya. “He is our favorite avatar-driver.”
“This was the one who came for Kiri?” Tsireya asked.
“Yeah, this is how he looks as a human. He is almost like an uncle to us—he still works in the lab by the Omatikaya settlement,” Kiri elaborated.
“Hey, you’re Jake, right? Tom’s brother?” Norm asked, slowing as he reached him. “Wow, you look just like him.”
Jake eyed him uncomfortably, not offering any sort of confirmation—but not denying it, either.
“Sorry, I’m Norm Spellman. I went through avatar training with him.” Norm offered his hand to Jake, and Jake shook it unenthusiastically. “He was a great guy—funny. It was a big shock to us all.”
“Yeah,” Jake deadpanned, before pumping the wheels of his chair to push himself forward.
Norm either didn’t understand the dismissal or didn’t care, as he immediately moved to walk beside him.
“And duh —obviously you look like him,” Norm continued. “I mean, if you weren’t genetically identical, you wouldn’t be taking over his avatar.”
Jake nodded. “That’s why I’m here.”
“So, you want to go check it out?”
“Wait,” Lo’ak said, as he stared at his father as if the man had grown an extra head. “Wait, woah.”
“What?” Jake asked, a bit defensively.
“You are our uncle!”
Neteyam’s mouth dropped open as he seemed to catch onto what Lo’ak was suggesting. “Your body was Tommy’s.”
“Mom mated and had kids with his body—so we are technically his kids, right?” Lo’ak pushed. “Your brain is not what created us—it was your body. Well, Tommy’s. Right?”
“No,” Neytiri snapped. “Mating is not about the body—it is about the heart. It is about who you are. To think it is physical is ignorant.”
“She is right—Mom mated Dad. Forming the mate connection is purely spiritual,” Kiri said. She waited for a moment, then added, “But she did still have sex with his brother.”
As the Suli boys erupted into laughter, Ao’nung couldn’t help but chuckle himself. The family was so messy, but at least they were entertaining.
“Technically, Tommy and I had the same genetic makeup. We were basically the same person, from a science perspective,” Jake explained. “Our minds were the only thing different between us. So when I took his avatar and put my own mind into it, it was the same amount mine as it would have been his.”
“So you are our dad, right?” Tuk questioned.
“Yes, baby girl.”
“If you ever took my mate, I would strangle you with your own tail,” Lo’ak loudly whispered to Neteyam.
“You only worry about that because you know I am more attractive than you and could,” Neteyam responded, earning two raised middle fingers from Lo’ak.
Jake and Norm entered a large lab complex, where large crates were in varying stages of being opened and people in white coats were scurrying about. Norm, distracted by the happenings of the lab, paused to stare—but Jake continued on.
[Me and Norm were out here to drive these remotely controlled bodies called avatars. They’re grown from human DNA mixed with the DNA from the natives here.]
Finally reaching a large amino tank, Jake rolled to a stop. The figure of a blue, naked man floated languidly in the amniotic fluid, with a synthetic umbilical cord connected to their abdomen. Their long black hair drifted like seaweed in the liquid, and Jake’s eyebrows twitched upwards as a long, skinny tail came into view.
“That is so creepy,” Ao’nung voiced, staring at the body. It looked Na’vi—as much as Lo’ak did, anyway—but it clearly wasn’t. How could they just grow these soulless creatures?
“It should not even be possible,” Ronal said, clearly disturbed. “It is not natural. There is no life in it—just a body grown by demons.”
“Ronal,” Tonowari said sternly, his eyes very quickly darting towards Jake before returning to her.
“That is the body of Toruk Makto,” Neytiri said. “Eywa chose him—he is not a demon.”
“Damn,” Jake said. “They got big.”
“Yeah, they mature on the trip out,” Norm told him, then looked at Max, one of the doctors for the program. “So the proprioceptive sims worked pretty well.”
“Yeah, they’ve got great muscle tone,” Max said. “Give us a few hours, and you guys can take them for a spin.”
The figure’s lax face finally turned towards Jake, and the features were—despite being relatively feline—definitely his.
“I do not like this,” Tuk mumbled. “You look dead.”
Jake reached over to take her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “My body is just sleeping in there.”
“You are not breathing.”
“I did not have to breathe like that.”
“It looks like him,” Jake noted.
“No, it looks like you,” Norm corrected him. “This is your avatar now, Jake.”
[The idea is that every driver is matched to his own avatar,] Jake’s voice said, before the scene switched to him looking directly towards the screen in the middle of filming a videolog. “So their nervous systems are in tune, or something. Which is why they offered me this gig, because I can link with Tommy’s avatar, which was insanely expensive.” Jake looked away, clearly uncomfortable with speaking to nobody. “Is this right? I just say whatever in these videologs?”
“Yeah,” Norm answered from nearby. “You just need to get in the habit of documenting everything—what you see, what you feel—it’s all part of the science. Good science starts with good observation.”
“Right,” Jake sighed. “So whatever. Here I am. Doing science. Never been in a lab before.”
Max came up behind him and said, “Log off. It’s time to meet your boss for the next five years.”