7. Stromm
7
STROMM
The community fire burns low, the once-roaring flames now reduced to little more than smoldering embers. Thin wisps of smoke curl lazily into the sky, the scent of charred wood lingering in the cool mid-morning air.
The pit is mostly abandoned, leftover food from breakfast going cold on the nearby flat stones. The hunters have gone. The gatherers are in the foothills. Everyone else is useful.
And I am here. Doing nothing.
I lift a cup of Rakui tea, inhaling the rich, spiced aroma before taking a slow sip. It tastes bitter this day. Or maybe that is just my mood. The bitterness of self-pity and failure.
Losing the ability to fight led me to lose Em-uh-lee as well. She deserves a mate who can stand beside her as a warrior, not watch from the sidelines like a broken male.
And now, I have failed at fishing.
A scowl pulls at my lips as I stare into the dark depths of the tea, willing the murky liquid to offer some kind of answer.
Instead, I hear a voice above me.
“You look like you’re trying to set that cup on fire with your mind.”
Glancing up, I see Gee-uh standing over me, her expression curious. Beside her, Jill-ee-un cradles her round belly, ripe with a growing kit, shifting her weight carefully before lowering herself onto the log beside me.
Jill-ee-un tilts her head, studying me. “Why the glum face?”
“I am a failure,” I grumble.
Gee-uh snorts, flopping onto the log beside me. “If this is a pity party, then count me in.”
I grunt, staring at the tea. Even the Terran females can see how pathetic I have become.
Jill-ee-un arches a skeptical brow. “Why are you a failure? You’re still alive, so the reason can’t be too serious.”
I let out a slow breath, watching the glowing embers shift in the fire. “I failed at wound healing and mate-taking. And now, I have failed at fishing.”
Jill-ee-un pats my knee, her touch oddly comforting. “We heard about the no-more-hunting-or-fighting mandate from Yola and the Elders.”
“Has everyone heard?” I ask.
“Oh, yeah,” Gee-uh says. “It dominated the dinner talk last night. You were smart for staying away from the community firepit.”
I take another sip of tea, letting the bitterness linger on my tongue. “Em-uh-lee deserves a male who can protect her, provide for her.”
Gee-uh frowns. “Did she tell you that?”
I tense. “She did not have to.”
Jill-ee-un nods. “So, you made that decision for her.”
“It was the right choice,” I say, scowling.
She rubs her belly absently, her eyes drilling into me. “How’s that choice working out for you?”
I do not answer. There is no need. Not when silence speaks louder than any words.
Gee-uh leans forward with her elbows on her knees. “So, you lost your warrior status, and you lost your potential mate. Where does the fishing failure come in?”
I grumble into the cup.
Jill-ee-un nudges me with her elbow. “Tell us, Stromm.”
I sigh. “Sartok suggested I try fishing instead of hunting. Since it would be dangerous to wield a blade, he thought a net more suitable. So, this morning I went to the river.”
“What happened?” Jill-ee-un asks.
Rubbing a hand down my face, I say, “The net happened.”
Gee-uh blinks. “What the hell does that mean?”
“The net,” I repeat, glaring into the flames. “It swished in the water and collapsed.” I make a vague, frustrated gesture to demonstrate the experience. “The fish did not swim into it.”
Gee-uh bites her lip. “I’ve seen the nets. They’re kind of like the ones used to play lacrosse back on Earth, only the nets here are made from woven vines and they’re attached to sticks. You have to use the net to scoop up the fish. Then what happened?”
“I fell into the river, and got carried downstream.”
Jill-ee-un bursts into full laughter, then shakes her head. “Oh, God, I think I just peed a little bit,” she says, which only makes her laugh harder. “Get off my bladder, Baby Rakui.”
Gee-uh shakes her head, giggling. “Please explain.”
“I was standing in the river, legs spread apart, bracing against the current like Darht showed me, trying to get fish into the net. Then, a large one swam toward me. I lunged for it yet snagged the net on a floating branch. As I untangled it, my feet slipped on the river rocks, and downstream I went.”
The laughter finally dies down, and Jill-ee-un wipes her eyes, still grinning. “Did you get your net free from the branch?”
I sit there and take their ribbing, deserving it. “I did not.”
“Tell us someone saw this.” Gee-uh waves a hand, gasping out words between giggles. “Man, I wish UD-237 had vid capabilities.”
“Everyone saw.” The other fishermen, the females downstream washing leathers, Ken-zee on her way to the latrine.
Jill-ee-un shakes her head, wiping her eyes. “So fishing is out?”
I lift the tea again, muttering, “I would rather perish from being stabbed.”
“What now?” Gee-uh asks.
I stare into the fire, my mood sour. “I do not know. I would do anything to hunt again, fight again. Yet that does not seem possible.”
“What about gathering?” Jill-ee-un suggests. “The tribe always needs more herbs and spices.”
“And fruit,” Gee-uh adds. “There’s never enough fruit. It could really help.”
I grunt. “Picking leaves and berries is something a half-grown kit can do.”
Jill-ee-un shrugs, unbothered. “The Terrans have been doing it. But you can walk farther and reach higher than any of us. You could work at your own pace, decide how much or how little you want to bring back on any given day.”
Considering this, I say, “It would get me out of the village, and away from all the looks of pity.”
Gee-uh claps. “That’s the spirit.”
“There is just one problem,” I add. “If I am alone and come across a rogue or other predator, I would be—”
“Dead,” the females say together.
I nod, grim. “Exactly.”
Gee-uh suddenly sits up straighter, her eyes brightening with an idea. “Hey, what if I made you custom body armor to protect your torso? It wouldn’t be enough to let you hunt again, but would shield your liver if you had an unexpected fight.”
The idea intrigues me. “What kind of armor?”
Gee-uh rubs her chin, already thinking through the logistics. “I’d have to play around with materials, but I could mix hardened leather with thin, salvaged steel for extra durability. Flexibility might be an issue, because we wouldn’t want it to be too restricting.”
Nodding, my mind races with possibilities.
“Just to be clear, this would be for gathering only.” Gee-uh’s voice stops my thoughts. “Body armor won’t make you invincible.”
I keep my expression neutral, yet deep inside, hope begins to blossom. “I understand.”
“Great. I’ll get started right away.” She jumps up and rushes away.
Jill-ee-un gives me a knowing look. “She said the armor is just for gathering.”
I grunt, wondering if the Terran still beside me can read minds.
“But I might have something that could get you back in the hunting game,” she says. “Eventually. You said you’d do anything, right?”
“Yes.”
“I could teach you how to shoot a gun.”
I dismiss her suggestion. “Rakuis reject modern weapons. Technology is… dishonorable.”
Jill-ee-un arches a brow. “Emily carries a gun. Or she used to before she got the Rakuium pendant. Is she dishonorable?”
The very suggestion spikes my anger. “Em-uh-lee’s honor should never be questioned.”
“I agree,” she says. “Now, let me tell you a story. Let’s say gathering works out for you, and Emily becomes your mate. Eventually, you two have a baby.” Jill-ee-un places my hand on her rounded belly, and I feel her kit move. “You with me so far?”
I nod and she continues. “One day, while picking fruit, you run across a pack of serigs. You’re wearing the body armor Gia made you, and you have a knife, but you know that’s not enough. The pack has you surrounded, so you can’t run. What would be more honorable: shooting the serigs with a modern weapon to avoid certain death…or leaving Emily without a mate, and your child without a father?”
There is no good choice, so I do not answer.
“Your life changed the day you were shot by those mercenaries, Stromm. I am offering you a way to adapt, to thrive on this dangerous planet instead of just surviving.”
The weight of the conversation settles over me. Slowly, I exhale. I do not want to dishonor my tribe, yet wielding a modern weapon could compensate for my inability to fight our enemies using traditional means.
“Perhaps you are right,” I concede.
“Yeah?” Jill-ee-un grins. “You’ll learn how to shoot?”
“I will consider it.”
She squeezes my arm. “I’ll take that as a yes.”