Young Writers Society

Entry #1
Entry #2
Entry #3
Entry #4 (cover concept no. 1)

Focci called his mothers by both the Trade siren and his native equivalents for ‘mom,’ sort of like how one of Ellipse’s few friends from public school had called her grandparents on one side Yie-yie and Nai-nai and the others Pops and Nana. Ellipse improvised when she translated for Tejal.
“That one,” she said, pointing at the navy siren, “is Focci’s mami. The other is his mom.”
“And the brothers?” Tejal asked, shrugging towards the five—maybe six—smaller sirens all tackling Focci.
Ellipse grimaced. She could hardly remember them, let alone literally translate and then come up with equivalents for all of them. Besides, half she could not even place some kind of origin on. “You should just learn to sing their names.”
“I don’t even know if I can sing anymore. My throat always feels funny when I try to copy you and Focci and Mouthbot.” Tejal pressed his palms into the boat’s floor, as if wondering whether or not to scoot forward into the siren cuddle puddle. “Are Focci and all of his brothers adopted? How do siren genders work?”
“They are generational,” Ellipse explained. She pulled her eyes from the sirens and went back to admiring the ocean and the pinkish sky. “Focci’s mothers have haploid cells. Focci and his brothers all have diploid cells. It might have come from some long-ago algae-like microorganism ancestor.”
Tejal fell silent, not quite wrapping his head around what haploid and diploid were, or what they had to do with algae. But Ellipse figured that she had spent enough time listening to his and Focci’s fold generator jargon that she could get away with not explaining stuff.
As Focci wrestled with his little brothers, Ellipse and Tejal fidgeted. Obviously Ellipse had never been to a family reunion, but she wondered if Tejal had any experience with this kind of thing. Maybe he had memories of visiting his gato parents’ families and not being able to communicate.
But then Ellipse felt wet skin tap on her leg, and she looked down to see Focci’s teal-colored mom grinning up at her.
“Hello,” Focci’s mom sang, thankfully in Trade Siren. She had a bit of an accent; her notes came out a little too quick and a little too rhythmic.
“Hi,” Ellipse sang back.
And then Focci’s mom beckoned for Ellipse to kneel, so Ellipse did. She took a breath to ask why, but then felt a tail curl around to brush her back. Focci’s mom wrapped her arms, still damp from the water she lived in, around Ellipse’s shoulders, and hummed in her ear. “Thank you for taking care of my son.”
She could not place why, but Ellipse felt like she had experienced this before. Shooting Tejal a panicked save-me-from-this-awkwardness look, she hugged back and grimaced when Focci’s mom squeezed. Tejal saw and smirked at her.
Except then he was next, and Focci’s mami went around for her own hugs, and Ellipse had to massage her shoulders after that because sirens had arms buffer than most olympic swimmers’. She returned Tejal’s smirk as he rubbed his own shoulders and.
“Oh, rub it in,” he grumbled.
“It looks like you are doing that already,” Ellipse shot back. She turned back to Focci’s mothers and gave a sheepish smile. “Sorry,” she sang, “he does not speak Trade Siren. But we can bring out the translator if you would like to talk with both of us?”
Focci’s mami twitched her nose, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Ah, maybe over dinner. You two should play with the little ones.”
Ellipse opened her mouth to argue, because no way was she about to dive into the siren puddle and get smothered by tails and fins and lightly salted water. “Oh, maybe I could-
A tail smacked the back of her knees, and she crumpled. The boat’s rocking did not help. Immediately, a chorus of twitters chimed from the little sirens, and she felt the too-heavy weight of three bodies flop onto her back. Somewhere under all the clicks and cackles, she heard Focci’s dolphin laugh and Tejal’s ever-deepening chuckle, which was cut off as he too got pushed into the dog pile.
The boat ride did not end soon enough. By the time Ellipse heard calls for the dock lines to be thrown, her back ached like an elephant had stepped on her, and her every breath had turned into a deep, painful gasp. She knew Focci was heavy, but he was nothing compared to a whole squirming pile of mini sirens.
She heaved herself up, grimacing at the sticky salt that crusted the tile floor and frosted her skin and clothes. The bags had little bits of salt on them too, and she tried fruitlessly to wipe some of the white dust off. She sniffed at her arm and curled her lip; she smelled like salt too. If she ever visited Earth, she was not going to see a beach.
A slow-moving line meandered out onto the deck of the boat and down a wide, sturdy plank stretching out to the cement dock, and Ellipse noted with distaste that there were no railings on the plank, and that she was, for once, one of the tallest individuals around. She followed Focci and his family off the boat, steps small and slow, and tried not to step on any hands when at last she stood on solid ground, sneaker-clad feet planted firmly on the dock.
It felt so weird to be on something solid, with real gravity and a distinct lack of lingering thoughts that she could fall and disappear into a void or sea or atmosphere. Peering down at her feet, she shifted back and forth, testing out the ground.
“You look like a penguin,” Tejal told her, scooting off the plank. “Also we’re still moving.”
Ellipse hopped to keep following, thankful that sirens moved so much slower on land than earthlings and other bipeds. She had time to actually digest all the ambient sights and sounds and smells. In the back of her mind, she registered that Focci’s mothers were leading the whole group to only on-land sites for her and Tejal’s sakes. Maybe she ought to pick up the tab for any meals they all ate up here.
But that was all second fiddle to the surroundings. The shore of the island was lined with stands, mostly made of sun-dried golden-tan bricks and carved stone, all selling something or other, from little trinkets made from the shells of dead animals to authentic pressure-boiled siren cuisine. Sand littered the cement walkways, crunching softly underfoot, and the deep, sweet stench of sirena kelp oozed from the piles of black-green kelp ribbons that floated onto shore.

Sirena had some whacked-up tides by Earth standards, but nothing beat the way Titan’s under-ice oceans shifted the moon’s surface around. So at least Ellipse could forgo oohing over the waves, even if the kelp they left behind was pretty tasty.
She glanced down to make sure she was still behind the sirens and not ahead of them and found that she was somehow several paces behind Tejal, who rounded out the back of the pack. She let her gaze track a nearby specifus as she jogged to catch up, but they were too spindly to be Ami, who in the photos Tejal and Focci had shown her, looked like a giant fantasy beanstalk.
The group passed a great, open-air market hall that bursted with people of all species, and then turned into a restaurant that opened right onto the cement walkway. The building had a Japanese flare to it, with heavy ceiling beams that stretched over the porch and a charmingly curved teahouse roof. Ellipse snagged a glance at the menu taped to the window by the already-open door and almost laughed. Of course Focci’s family had chosen a place like this. With all the kelp and seafood, the local siren fare must have combined effortlessly with Japanese earthling cuisine.
Oh, and there was the added benefit of getting to sit on the floor, as siren anatomy dictated.
Presumably, the family had made reservations, because their party of many was seated almost immediately around a large, low, circular table with a lazy Susan in the center, like at an old-fashioned Asian restaurant in America. Ellipse found herself between Tejal and one of the wriggling mini-Foccis and with Focci’s mami shoving all of the menus into her hands.
“Focci says you are well-read on biology across planets. Perhaps you can order for all of us?”
So it was nice to be acknowledged, yes, but not like this. Ellipse sent Focci a snarl over Tejal’s head, to which he responded with an amused wrinkle of his snout, and then set about reading through the menu. The place listed food for pretty much every species, actually, not just earthlings and sirens.
She ordered from two different waiters in a bizarre mix of English and Trade Siren that sounded like a combination of rap and monastic chanting, which by some miracle both the earthling and siren waiters understood. Then, when she clapped shut the menu and handed it back to the siren waiter, she found the whole table sitting in silence, staring, enraptured, at something to Ellipse’s left.
She turned. And gawped. Her mouth probably stretched wider than a galaxy.
Tejal and Focci clung to the roots of a gigantic specific with a huge, swirling trunk and a great canopy of vines. Neither was shouting—apparently both retained enough sense to remember specifus had no ears—but Focci kept waving his tail, almost smacking a nearby earthling businesswoman, and Tejal was mouthing plead after plead.
Ellipse dove for the duffle bags, dug out her lightbox from Tejal’s undershirts, and raced to join them. “Sorry about this!” she sang as an afterthought.
She slid to a stop in front of the specifus, wishing yet again for her actual boots and their actual traction, and held the lightbox above her head, hopefully high enough for this monster specifus to see. “Wait!” she flashed. “They just want to ask you about building their own generator.”
Presumably-Ami stilled for a moment, and the set of lights on their trunk blinked, furious and fast and almost unintelligible. “You really think I would fall for-
“We met the other survivors!” Ellipse told them. “Soph and Max? They are safe at a house in the earthling system.”
“Or in captivity.” Ami’s vines rippled, and before Ellipse could react, she heard the distinct thud-smack of Tejal and Focci hitting the floor, one after another.
Talk about a renaissance specifus. Ami seemed to have both intellect and brawn on their side. They reached over with one great, green vine and wrapped it around Ellipse’s waist, then jerked her out of the way.
“Please!” Ellipse flashed, but Ami had already stormed out of the restaurant. Hopefully they had paid their bill already. She looked over to Tejal and Focci, to see if she should chase after, but the two were being wrangled back to the table, courtesy of Focci’s mother and her very strong tail.
She gave the boys one last shove and then nipped at Focci’s gills. “What was that about?” she demanded, tone loud and brassy.
Tejal quivered, and Focci’s gills flattened against his neck.
“Uhh, well,” Focci tried. “We have been working on a project?”
“And this project involves attacking random people in public?” Focci’s mom was not impressed. Her pitch went broad, and she thrust one hand out, threatening to pinch Focci’s nose. Then, for good measure, she glared at Tejal too.
“They were hardly a random person, mom. That was Ami! The engineer!”
She turned to Ellipse. “I hope you were not encouraging this kind of behavior, Captain?”
Oh, Ellipse had started this behavior. She laughed nervously and slunk back to the table, careful to make as little noise as possible while she stuffed the lightbox back into its duffle bag. “Oh, of course not, ma’am,” she lied.
“And attacking a universally famous scientist is no better than attacking a random person out and about,” Focci’s mom continued. “Thank goodness that specifus had the grace to move you without destroying anything. Now then, what exactly is this project?”
Focci’s mami piped up there, bright and airy despite knocking her tail into a pair of the little brothers to keep them at the table. “Oh, yes. Tell us about the project! You have been so excited about it.”
A bright green blush rose to Focci’s cheeks, and he curled his tail under the table to hide the way it flicked and twitched. “Ah, well, you know how light can only travel so fast, yes?”
His mothers nodded, and so did two of the bigger younger brothers, their attention suddenly pulled away from rough housing to hear about what could maybe give them a good excuse to go pouncing on strangers.
“Tejal and I have been trying to shrink the fold generators, make them small enough to fit inside of a computer or phone, and create a wireless network that operates even in empty space.” Focci clasped his hands together on the table, and his flush stretched further across his face, almost down to his gills. “It would allow us to video chat while I am in other systems, for one.”
“And?” his mami prompted.
“Well, I want to earn enough money to send everyone to school. No use in all of us becoming dropouts, right?”

Flying back to the earthling system from Planet Five had taken too long. The Ink was by no means a large ship, but it was heavier cargo than the Conics was built for, and Focci had reprogrammed the piloting assistance to prevent Ellipse from flying as fast as she usually did, which was absolutely unnecessary. And then on top of that, Focci had taken over landing duty. Admittedly, landing with exterior cargo was a little different from the usual, but Ellipse figured she could have handled it.
And then she laid eyes on Earth.
Earth was gorgeous. People who regularly left and returned tended to be of the opinion that Sirena was the prettiest planet from space, but Ellipse found herself drawn to the sparkling nighttime cities, the blooms of different blues in the ocean, and the great swathes of white and brown and green that curled and sprawled over the globe. She floated in the cockpit, just over Focci’s head, one hand stretched out towards the window, with the dim lights of the controls lighting her from below, and was immensely glad that she never had to see this planet from space without knowing she would go planetside.
“You look enthralled,” Tejal commented.
Mouthbot’s translation resulted in an innuendo regarding romantic siren poetry, and Focci looked up to Ellipse for a proper translation, a tinge of green brushing his snout.
“He means I look fascinated,” she sang. “Nothing bad.”
Focci just hummed in response and focused again on landing.
The International Space Station was a mess. It was tube-shaped, with a particularly large interior circle, and old ISS iterations had been welded to the outside with gigantic spray-painted summaries next to each old structure, so that passersby could read through the whole history of earthling space habitation from the comfort of their ships. Giant solar panels stuck out like old Dutch windmill blades, reminiscent of the days before nuclear fusion generators, and all the cement had been painted a solid white, which was by this point grubby from little collisions with debris and ships.
The Conics dived for the interior of the tube, and Earth’s gentle curve disappeared from view.
“Tejal, I put my Titan passport in the lead safe, right?”
“You’ve asked me this like five times,” Tejal replied from the back of the cockpit. “Yes. You did it before the last time you went to sleep.”
Ellipse pulled her mouth into a straight line and thought, watching the entrance to the ISS draw closer. Yes, Tejal was right. She had definitely put away her Titan papers.
They flew through the opening, and Ellipse floated closer to the window, searching the walls for a door with S-342 spray painted on. She spotted it a few hundred meters away, on the top side of the station. “Right up there,” she told Focci, pointing it out.
The ship slowed, and Ellipse pressed the dashboard button for the landing control radio. “This is Captain Tibot from the Conics,” she said, trying to lengthen her vowels to sound like Tejal’s American drawl, “requesting that the doors to dock S-342 be opened. Over.”
“We still need a moment for the security scans to come in,” landing control said. The officer in contact sounded about twelve, for some reason. “And… you’re clear. We’ll open the door in a moment.”
Focci slowed the ship to a stop and put on a bit of spin, rotating so that the Conic’s hull faced the door, and a moment later, the great metal dock doors split down the middle and slid open. He unbuckled the seatbelt over his chest and floated out of the pilot’s chair.
“Your turn,” Focci told Ellipse, with a quick pat on her shoulder. “Tejal and I will move into the cargo hold for landing.”
Taking hold of the joystick, Ellipse drifted into the pilot’s chair and listened as the boys threw aside the curtain. A few long moments later, Focci sang out an ‘all clear,’ and Ellipse angled the engines up. The Conics and its exterior cargo dropped through the extra-wide opening to the dock, and then clamped onto the floor of the dock in a disorienting clunk.
“Ah, right,” Ellipse muttered, rubbing her tailbone. “That way is down now.” She stood and leaned foward to peer out the window, watching as the dock doors slid shut, and keeping her ears peeled for the distinct hiss of the airlock closing.
Then her watch buzzed, jolting her and lighting up with a message from someone she had never heard of. Ellipse brought up her wrist and squinted. “Mi Na Park? Who the heck is that?” She bit her lip and tapped the message, ignoring the airlock’s loud hiss.
Then her watch buzzed again, with another message from this Mi Na Park, and then came another and another. Suddenly she had twenty messages from her, all with the same subject line as the recent messages Ellipse had exchanged with Randi.
She almost grinned. Maybe Mi Na Park had money for the boys’ project. But then she read over the first few lines, all typed out in careful, professional serifs, and grimaced. This was just legalese, most of which flew over Ellipse’s head. She knew laws by their intent, not by their wording.
“Ellipse!” Tejal shouted. “Get down here! We’re lowering the ramp, and you need to get into the Ink and get my backup wheelchair out.”
Ellipse switched her watch screen off and crossed out of the cockpit. Her legs felt heavy suddenly. She had known nothing about this other person in contact with Randi, not until she arrived on Earth, where the messages must have originated. And if Ellipse was being completely honest with herself, she knew very little about what Randi had planned. She knew a bit, shared their vague hatred of Andra-Media, but had no idea what was going down.
Slowly, Ellipse climbed down the central ladder, taking in the little vertical garden that splashed the acrylic walls with with green and red and yellow. Then she stopped three rungs from the floor and brought up her watch again. She needed to read these messages before she landed on Earth, especially if the sender was there.