Innu-Akku

The Roses in The pond

- And how did you end up with such troublemakers? I warned you, the water in that lake is dead. It's like the Smorodina* – it separates worlds, and you shouldn't have gone sticking your nose in there, - Buran asked reproachfully, rummaging through the clutter on the shelves. He had to bring the girls to his lair, a small chamber on the technical level. It left him wondering how, having been a nanny for dozens of children in the past, one could forget about a child's curiosity.
And yet, nothing initially foretold of trouble! The path upward was short and easy—busy town folks engrossed in their ritual paid no mind to the shadow darting to and fro.
Meanwhile, the familiar pondered the wisdom of bringing the girls along the way to the lair.
Esma had entertained the idea of leading the runaways out, leaving them at the temple, and the thought that staying in the lowlands, near the reactor, might not be entirely safe. But all these thoughts collided with a compelling argument—the fate of the children in the commune was equally uncertain. There were no guarantees that those who had glimpsed the "demon" and remained unscathed wouldn't be lynched at the dog's place.
- I had it so good. Like Baba Yaga**. I'd venture out once every one and a half decades, do my business, and then dart back to the canine lowlands. And then you, 'Alenushka and Ivanushka,'*** landed on my unlucky head, - Buran lamented under his breath, more for show. Yet deep down, he was secretly pleased with the unexpected company that he had grown unaccustomed to over the years. His former nanny role reminded him of itself, demanding care for the city girls. The simple presence of these girls seemed to fill his life with meaning. For the first time in a long while, the familiar wanted to truly live, not just exist in the shadows, perpetually hiding from the realization of what was happening and the knowledge that there was simply no return to Earth.
But Buran didn't rush to change his plans, bringing the girls to the lake on one of the lower levels. At the bottom of the shallow, almost luminous pool, those same "flowers" bloomed. White and black, like chess pieces, with a thick sole. Only now did Esma notice that their buds resembled intricately coiled fern fronds.
Digging out a new canpic with his hands-paws from the hideout and shaking it free of dust, the familiar approached the edge of the lake. Groaning from pain and stiffness, the dog cautiously knelt down and unexpectedly quickly retrieved another flower.
After checking on the creature, the dog's eyes sparkled as if starting a dialogue with someone. But no matter how hard Esma tried to reach out to the interlocutor, she couldn't get through. The transmitter's defense protocol was triggered, filtering out "dangerous" and non-human-like signals.
Only by the fleeting grins on the dog's face could the Martian guess at the subject of the conversation. The dog's thoughts also became inaccessible, as if something was muffling them at that moment.
Exhausted from the communication, Buran bid farewell and sat down nearby, resting his muzzle on folded paws. According to his calculations, there was still time for what was planned, albeit just barely.
- I wouldn't drink out of this puddle if I were you, Ivanushka, unless you want to turn into a little goat, - the familiar warned the girls who had approached the edge. - Its a death waters for human in there.
The older girl sat down and scooped some water into her hands, while the younger girl first splashed the water with her palm and then plunged her hand almost up to her shoulder. It seemed like she mistook the flowers for fish from the biome and wanted to catch them.
Sighing, Buran realistically barked, frightening them, and then clumsily got up and dragged the runaways away.
To their frustration and even horror, the lake was shrouded in a film, and there was a crackling and flashes on the water, like lightning in a cloud. Their thoughts immediately returned to the conversation with Kassia and her observation that the reproductive cells of these strange creatures also played a protective role, if fertilization did not occur. Essentially, the entire lake was a closed system that sustained the life of the unusual inhabitants of Elem, who clearly did not appreciate the intrusion from the outside.
The lame old man had to pick up the younger girl and carry her to their lair, despite the increasingly feeble cries and protests from the older one.
As expected, the girls quickly fell ill. But while the older one only suffered from blisters and fever, the younger one fared much worse, and by the end of the journey, she had lost consciousness.
After laying her on the tattered old couch, Buran rummaged through all his supplies.
Taking a dusty and slightly crumpled aluminum box from the shelf, the dog approached the subdued older girl.
"A bioprinter!" - Esma guessed, skeptically examining the find from all sides.
Try as he might, the device was only worthy of being called junk with the inscription: "БионМед.Про."
Similar devices were regularly brought to museums in the hope of selling them for any amount, and the sellers would leave with a disgruntled look, taking the junk to the nearest dump.
Buran's memories suggested that the device was a trophy found among the wreckage at the spacecraft landing site.
Taking the girl's hand, the familiar pushed it into the opening. There was no resistance. The excitement was replaced by complete indifference to what was happening.
Despite all the doubts, the box turned out to be working. It hummed as it began to treat the wound, cut the damage with a laser, and print a patch. The smell of burnt flesh and a sour-sweet nourishing gel filled the air.
The younger girl wasn't as lucky. There were no medicines or components left in Buran's caches - everything had been used for clothes insulation, masking the smell of the lowlands.
The memory immediately brought to mind a mocking comment, even though it was said in a moment of parental despair: "Are you kidding me? What can this 'Dantes' au pair do?"
With the words came the images. It smelled of heat. The cry of seagulls was heard. There was a hospital smell and a sea breeze. A man and a woman appeared, standing in the corridor. The woman cried bitterly into her handkerchief, while the man shouted and berated the familiars and the doctors. Smirking, Esma was ready to swear that instead of a dusty cot, she had seen a hospital bed with a child on a drip.
The dog's memories spoke then, recounting an incident with a jellyfish on a Black Sea beach.
- I can do something, - Buran said resentfully, having been trained by the efforts of Director Yermakova, who wanted maximum profit with minimal expense, to perform a multitude of tasks - from menial to some medical manipulations.
Thinking it wasn't appropriate for the older girl to simply sit there, the familiar handed her a primitive tablet and, starting some presentation about Elem, added:
- Wait here, fair maidens. When I'm done, I'll rid you of the grave malady.

***
The server room from the memories was little different from reality. The same row of elongated bulbs, the same light and smell. In contrast, the medical room, where they had to stop by for necessities, looked battered. Amidst the real chaos and wreckage, finding something was barely possible, unless you knew exactly where it was lying. Nevertheless, a few useful things turned out to be among the piles of ancient, mostly broken junk. Hurriedly stuffing them into a bag, the familiar headed to the server room.
As soon as he got there, Buran limped without unnecessary fuss to the needed console. Extracting a bulb with a flower, he brought it to the transmitter.
- We, Earth colonists, beg for your help, children of Elem. We came in peace and with no ill intent! Please forgive our mistakes and show us mercy! - the familiar whispered hoarsely, his eyes gleaming.
In response, the flower slowly spun, filling the vessel with iridescence. The sphere also pulsed rhythmically, briefly dimming and then flashing again.
There was singing, followed by crackling. A bundle of blue sparks turned into a human figure, stepping out from the console.
Clapping Buran on the shoulder, the silhouette began to transform into a flower, filling it with darkness.
When the sparks disappeared and the flower turned blacker than the night, the familiar put the bulb back, still with his eyes gleaming. Walking past rows of empty consoles, the dog sighed sorrowfully, realizing that almost no one was left.
- And your time has come, Matvey, - Buran mourned aloud, touching the vessel walls. - How much time has passed? Three hundred or four hundred? I'm sorry, I already lost count.
Esma felt confusion and heaviness in her own soul. She followed the familiar with the same melancholy, not understanding what had caused the loss of so many lives. The response came in the form of the appearance of the matron and the dog's hurried hiding behind the cabinets.
As the woman entered the room, she quickly made her way to the necessary console with heavy steps.
"Now!" - Buran shut his eyes.
From his hiding place, he couldn't see, and because of his racing thoughts, he couldn't hear as a modestly dressed townsfolk rushed into the room. She threw herself at the matron's feet and started to loudly wail, stunning everyone.
After a few reprimands, she began to actively gesture, trying to explain something. She lacked grace and beauty, possessing only blind servility in her tiny pig-like eyes and endless fear. It was no wonder that, angered by what she said, they dragged her away by her meager hair and sent her away with kicks, as if she were a beggar and nothing more.
To the horror of Esma and Buran, the distracted matron returned not to the necessary console, but to the neighboring one.
Raising her hand, the woman chuckled and... she gave the shutdown command. The instruments howled. The pumps hummed under the floor. Liquid flowed through the pipes, bubbling disgustingly against the drain.
- No, no! - Forgetting that it was just a memory, Esma rushed to the bulb, trying to cancel the drain. Becoming an indifferent witness to the murder was not part of the rescuer's plans. But no matter how strong and well-trained the Martian was, what had happened remained a done deal.
- Please! Someone! I don't want to die like this! - echoed in the minds of both Buran and Esma.
Gritting his teeth and sobbing, the familiar almost gave away his presence. Only remembering about Matvey, he guiltily whispered:
- Forgive me, Sonia.
Sonia's transmitter pulsed rhythmically, pleading for salvation on all frequencies. But fear not only made it impossible to save, but also led to destroying several lives, freezing them in place. Esma herself was petrified, watching in horror with wide eyes.
Fortunately, the agony was short, and soon the sphere extinguished. Something hummed under the floor again, and then the drained liquid flowed into the remaining three consoles...

* Smorodina - dead river, Slavic version of Styx.
** Baba Yaga - in Slavic folk - witch, sentinel of border between life and death
*** Alenushka and Ivanushka - in European fairytale similar in meaning Hansel and Gretel