CHAPTER 8 #2
"Right! They're coming here. The cephalopods. Snails. It's a snail-vasion. Like we talked about at the Ding-Ding Feast." She shrugs. "Snail-vasion has more of a ring to it than a cephalopod-vasion. I was outvoted on the naming."
It's like we're having two separate conversations here. "I was not at the Ding-Ding Feast," I point out. "I was banished."
"Oh." She straightens. "Then you should know that it's cephalopod season."
I'm not familiar with that season. "Is this a food thing?"
The little boy grabs his father's hand and tries to pull him away. N'dek follows the child's lead, glancing back at his mate. "It is a problem. We will tell the others."
"Thank you, love," Devi calls after him, waving as N'dek lets the boy lead him down the beach, towards someone fishing in the cold waters. She turns to me. "You weren't here last time it happened. It's an invasion of nautili here on the beach."
"So, a war." I'm vaguely annoyed that there's combat here after all.
To think that everyone has been claiming there are no battles to be fought and there has been a war brewing all this time?
! I should be happy that there will be a chance to show off my fighting skills, but I'm mostly irked that they are breaking their own established rules.
Devi shakes her head and picks up another piece of seaweed on her stick, examining it. "Not a war. They're just sea creatures. Big ones. They're going to come up here on the beach for a few weeks, lay eggs, and then go back into the waters."
"This does not sound so bad."
"You don't realize how big they are."
"So we...fight them off? Prevent them from taking over our beach?" I rub my hands together. Perhaps this is something April will enjoy watching me do.
"What? Oh, no. We let them do as they please.
We'll have to move out of their way. You'll want to pack up your things so they don't get crushed.
Keep all the valuables in the caves until they're gone.
Then we see what needs to be rebuilt." Her eyes flare with a crazy enthusiasm. "And we study them, of course."
"So...we don't fight? We just let them take over the beach?" This seems ridiculously passive. "Let them destroy our houses?"
"Well...no one can own a beach. They have as much right to be here as we do.
If you think about it, their species has probably been descending on beaches like this for millennia and we've only been here for, what, five-ish years?
I'd say if anything, we're the interlopers.
I'm just letting you know so you can have your things packed.
" She snaps her fingers. "Oh, and if you're going to build a hut for your mate, maybe don't do it just yet. Wait until the snail-vasion is over."
A hut? I stare at her, dumbfounded. I haven't thought that far ahead...but of course April's going to want a hut of her own. A hut where we can be alone together...the idea is far more appealing than it should be. "No hut until after the snails leave. I understand."
"Snailpocalypse?" Devi muses. "Does that have a better ring to it?"
It all sounds like nonsense to me. "How much time do we have before the snails arrive? Hours? Days?"
"Oh, it'll be a few weeks, I think. Last time they arrived, I noticed that all the seaweed was getting coated by this thick mucus.
I couldn't identify what was causing it, so I thought perhaps there was just a particularly rotten patch of seaweed that had washed up, but once the nautili arrived, it all made sense.
The entire beach was a little slimy while they were here. And then there were the eggs."
Uh oh. "Did we...eat the eggs?"
"What? Of course not. We're not monsters." She looks appalled at the thought.
April will be relieved to hear that, and I am glad I asked. So many unspoken rules that we are expected to be aware of. "No huts until they leave, no combat, and do not eat the eggs," I state, repeating the rules for the upcoming scenario. "I think I understand. Observation only."
"Precisely. We study them as scientifically and unobtrusively as we can so our data is as pristine as possible." She beams at me. "You get it."
I do now. I appreciate this female and her data methods. It sounds like there are a great deal of rules, and I perform best with rules. "Do you think there is time for me to go to the fruit cave and return before I am needed for anything?"
Her gaze refocuses on me, and it is as if she's hearing me for the first time. "Fruit cave? What for?"
"A flower," I say for the dozenth time in this conversation. "I am in need of a perfect flower."
"Does it have to be a living, blooming flower? Because that's going to be impossible to transport from the fruit cave back to the beach without it wilting from the cold. Do we need the entire root system or just the flower itself?"
My mind is awake with possibilities.
Does it have to be a living, blooming flower?
No, no it does not. That was never part of the deal.
Like with the creature April has taken as a pet, as long as I provide a flower of some kind, it does not matter if it is a real flower or not.
Devi is still talking to herself, her mind working out the logistics of trying to bring an entire plant from the warm cave back to the cold beach.
I cut her off. "What can I make a flower out of? "
She blinks at me. "Anything, really? You could make the petals out of leather, or seashells, or even seaweed." Devi flicks the slicked seaweed off her stick. "Maybe not this seaweed."
"But I can craft something?" I prompt. "Can you give me the rules?"
Her gaze grows distant, and then she gasps. "Cephalopocalypse! Oh, that's a much better name! I have to tell N'dek!" Delight crosses her face and she races off.
"Devi!" I yell after her, chasing the distractable female. "You were going to tell me how to craft a flower!"
I try a few different materials, but in the end, leather makes the best flower.
There are scraps of it in with the community supplies, and I pick out bits that are made of pleasing colors.
This one is a soft red, this other piece a pale yellow.
I cut them all into small, regular shapes and work on forming it into a flower, based off what my memory tells me a flower looks like.
I sew the bases of the petals together around a stem, and one of the human females — Bianca — sees what I am doing and tries to give advice.
"Make it like a rose," she says, and flicks one of the limp petals I've been painstakingly working on. "No one wants that floppy business hanging down."
Why does everyone have advice and none of it is useful? "I don't know what a rose looks like."
She takes my flower from my hands and demonstrates.
"They're a flower at home that has curled petals.
Since the leather is soft, it'll probably look better.
" She tucks the petals together, like they are hugging each other, and it forms a strange little bud.
But her version does seem improved from mine, so I take it from her with an appreciative grunt.
She indicates the center of the flower. "Now you just need something for the middle. "
"The center?" These foolish demands are endless. I sigh heavily. "Show me already."
By the time the flower is done, most of the day has gone and several people around the camp have offered their advice on my creation.
I should put all the dark petals on the outside and the lighter within.
A rose does not need a center, comments another.
The rib bone I am using for the stem is curved and that is wrong, says another.
I should add thorns and leaves, says a third.
Truly, everyone has something to say and all of it is irritating.
But I listen, because rules are important and are the guidelines for how to win my mate over.
When my flower is finally done, I get up from my spot near the fire.
I have petals on it. I have leaves. I have tiny, pointed carvings that hint at thorns.
It is a perfect gift, and I'm rather pleased with myself.
Everyone near the fire is watching me with giddy anticipation, and I know this is entertainment for them.
They're loving that April and I haven't fallen into each other's arms and made a child yet.
They are giddy that she is making me perform the courting tasks by the rules.
Jason smirks at me as I stride past, and Bianca gives me two thumbs up, as if her approval makes all the difference.
The only one that doesn't seem particularly invested is Natalie, who watches me with a vaguely furrowed brow, as if she doesn't quite understand what all the fuss is about.
Well, I'm a gladiator. It is my job to be entertaining. Let them be entertained by my efforts.
Confident in my gift, I stride to the hut April shares with her friend.
The musk of my marking scent is slightly less strong than yesterday due to the misty weather, and I will need to refresh it soon.
The thought fills me with a hungry excitement, and before I even reach the platform to her hut, my khui is humming and vibrating in my chest. The song grows louder when she lifts the door-flap, looking out.
Her gaze seeks mine.
I thrust the flower in her direction. "I have completed my second mission."
April's eyes widen and she takes it from me. Mirth bubbles up in her throat and she laughs with sheer delight. "You made a flower?"
I practically puff my chest out at her delight, because it is clear I have surprised her with my intelligence. She is pleased, and her pleasure fuels mine. "You said it had to be perfect. You didn't say it had to be alive."
She laughs again, the sound cackling and bright. "You are a crafty bastard."
"I know. What's my prize?"
Her eyes narrow and she briefly touches the petals of the leather flower to her chest, twirling it over her heart. "Depends. What do you want?"
"You're the one who knows the rules. You should know the reward."