Chapter 5
Chapter five
Piercings and Mug Systems
Bryce
As the others prepared to leave, Bryce said his goodbyes, then withdrew to his new bedroom.
He unpacked his bags and filled the dresser and closet with his clothes and various personal items he’d brought with him to help him feel more at home.
A family picture in front of his parents’ farm house.
The card all his family and friends had signed as a “going-away” present, even though he wasn’t going away forever.
His cowboy boots and hat—he didn’t expect he’d wear them much here, not if he didn’t want to stick out like a sore thumb.
After all his bags were unpacked, he jumped in the shower to wash the feeling of travel from his skin.
A generic-looking bar of soap sat innocently on the soap dish, but Toni’s words about possible skin-melting ingredients made him leery of using it.
He didn’t have any other options, though, as the shower was empty of all other supplies.
Instead of risking possible disintegration, he simply rinsed off, scrubbing a washcloth extra hard in all his nooks and crannies to make up for the lack of soap.
First thing on his to-do list would be heading to a shop to buy toiletries.
Hopefully, Zef wouldn’t mind accompanying him; the idea of going alone made his stomach flip-flop unpleasantly.
Freshly showered, Bryce texted his family, letting them know he’d arrived at Zef’s safely.
He took a selfie and quick video of his new bedroom, and his mom and Nan gushed their enthusiasm.
His dad took the longest to respond, and Bryce imagined him grumbling under his breath about how the buttons were too small for his sausage fingers.
His chest ached again, and for a moment, his eyes burned.
He was so very far from home, from everything familiar.
What if he’d made a mistake? He’d put his NAVLE? exam on hold to come here, and left Mr. Morris to handle the veterinary practice alone.
Sure, he’d be there for part of the breeding season in the spring, but he still felt guilty for his almost abrupt departure to join the Hellian study program.
Oh God, what if he’d just made the biggest mistake of his life, and his future was ruined?
His left temple started to throb, and he groaned, lying back on the bed and closing his eyes.
At this rate, he would work himself into a migraine, and he really didn’t want his first days in Hell to be spent curled up in the dark, suffering.
He breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
He massaged around his eyes, adding pressure to the sockets to relieve the sudden and short-lived pain.
It faded as quickly as it had come, and he sat back up.
“Let’s not panic our way into a stress-migraine,” he told himself as he pulled up his Notes app and started a list of groceries he’d need.
Once he had a substantial list, he left his room and wandered down the hallway.
He paused at the shelves of teeth, inspecting them more closely, and he made a mental note to ask Zef for those anatomical diagrams. There were several molars that looked suspiciously like human teeth, but he couldn’t be sure without asking the demon for confirmation.
He wondered if his mom still had his baby teeth and if Zef would want to see them. Maybe that would make for a good Christmas gift, which was something he never thought he’d consider.
In the kitchen, he found Zef cleaning up the supplies Toni had used to make sandwiches. The last sandwich sat on a plate at the corner of the kitchen island, and Bryce’s stomach rumbled. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and he was suddenly famished.
“Is this mine?” he asked, and Zef nodded without looking at him.
“Yes. I thought, perhaps, you would be hungry.”
“Could probably eat a horse,” he joked as he took the plate and sat down at the table in the breakfast nook.
Turning toward him, Zef’s eyes widened in horror. “You eat horses?”
“No, we don’t eat horses. It’s a figure of speech,” Bryce said quickly, and Zef relaxed. “Well, I suppose in some human cultures, they eat horses, but it’s not typical in American culture.”
“Queen Charlotte was noble and gentle. I would be very sad if she were to be eaten,” they said as they dried their hands. “I do not judge others for their diet, but I do not consume meat. I cannot condone the butchering of sentient creatures for my own gratification.
“Though,” they continued, taking the seat across from Bryce as he bit into his sandwich, “I do recognize the holes in my own argument. Plants are also living, and who are we to say they are not sentient simply because they communicate in ways we do not? Science has proven that plants communicate with each other through their root systems and chemical secretions. So perhaps it is just as cruel that I tear them from the ground and ingest them, the same way other people slaughter helpless animals.”
They sighed, and their shoulders wiggled in what Bryce took as a Zef-version of a shrug. “Life is complicated that way, I suppose. We all have to eat and survive, which means that something has to die. The cycle of life is brutal in that way.”
Not wanting to talk with his mouth full, Bryce chewed quickly and swallowed. “I see your point, and in some ways, I agree. The way we consume animals in this day and age is driven by corporate greed and consumerism. The treatment of those animals is abysmal and abusive. But I also ain’t vegan.
“Maybe it was growing up on a farm and raising animals for slaughter was just part of that? So it was normalized for me. But we raise our own beef and chicken, and we give them the best lives we can. I recognize the sacrifice of it, and I don’t take it for granted.
I think there are ways of ethically consuming meat, and, like you said, it’s part of the cycle of life.
There’s predators and prey, and as the dominant species, humans are at the top of the food chain. ”
Leaning in, Zef twined their top hands together on the table as their bottoms arms folded flat, supporting their weight. “And what of the Hellians that could digest human meat? If they invaded the human dimension and set up human slaughter houses, would you not call it murder?”
“Well, that circles back to the argument of sentience and intelligence, right?” Bryce said as he took another bite.
“But how can we judge sentience and intelligence when we are only capable of seeing it through our own lens? Animals are intelligent and, to some extent, sentient. They feel emotion and form bonds. Who is to say that they are not as intelligent, if not more intelligent, than we are?” Zef countered, their inhuman face alight with interest.
“If they were as, or more, intelligent than us, then don’t you think they would be able to communicate with us?”
With a cock to their head, they opened their mouth and emitted several strange sounds. Clicking, whirring, and buzzing. It sounded unnatural to Bryce’s ears, like he was trapped in a hive of foreign insects.
“Am I less intelligent than you,” Zef said in English, “simply because you do not understand my language? Perhaps it sounds primitive. Inhuman?”
Stunned, Bryce moved his mouth wordlessly for a moment before he nodded in resignation. “Okay, I get your point. Mea culpa.”
“I hope you do not find me argumentative. I find these discussions fascinating,” they said as they leaned back in their chair.
“No, I like talking about this stuff too,” he said, and Zef’s shoulders loosened. “Is that really your language? Like those were words?”
“Of a sort. Mantodean relies heavily on pitch, frequency, and intonation, body language and expression.
I understand it is very difficult to learn, and for most species, even impossible to replicate.
Insektyds have—in many cases, though not all—different types of vocal chords from other species.
I produce sounds in frequencies you may not be able to hear and could never produce yourself.
And speaking in your language stresses my vocal chords in ways it does not for you.
“It is one reason I am often quiet,” they said with a teasing wiggle of their antennas. “Not because I do not have anything to say, but because of the energy required to say it. Even speaking Hellia stresses my throat in ways Mantodean does not.”
Sandwich forgotten, Bryce propped his arms on the table. “Really? That’s wild. Where did Hellian originate, then?”
“Hellian is derived from Daemonic, the dialect of the Daemon species. They were, for lack of a better term, our monarchs long ago. So they pushed their language onto the rest of us until it became the universal one.”
“But it’s hard for you to speak? That don’t seem fair.”
Zef shook their head. “It is not hard to speak. I grew up with it, the same as Mantodean. But after a full day of speaking it exclusively, my throat is more tired than if I had spent the day at the Mantodea Colony. English is more stressful on my vocal chords, but I do not find it a hardship.”
“Still, I’m sorry you can’t speak Mantodean with me,” Bryce said with a wince.
“No apology is necessary. Even if you wanted to learn my language, I do not think you would be physically capable of it.” Without opening their mouth, they released a hitch-pitched whirring sound that made Bryce’s ears hurt, almost like a dog whistle.
“Damn, you don’t even have to open your mouth to speak,” he said as he rubbed his ear.
Zef’s antennas twitched. “Most people communicate the most without opening their mouth, but in this instance, it is a literal fact.”
“Sass,” Bryce commented as he returned to his sandwich. “Circling back, I assume there’s no meat on this?”
“No, that fleshy layer is a type of fungus. I believe you consume mushrooms, yes? That is a sort of mushroom, a similar plant family,” they explained.