Then Lektereenah appeared right next to him. And her servlings had their own orders.
He wasn’t Kel’metah quite yet.
The whole process lasted a day. There were roams and couplings, and meals and snacks, and more roams and speeches and singing and cavorting about, and it was all a very dizzying, disconcerting, breathless affair for Chase Meyer. The Ponkti Metah, Lektereenah, had an entirely different procedure. This time, her servlings didn’t fasten Chase into a sling but tied him directly to Lektereenah’s underbelly, which was like being fastened to a small whale, as the Metah was a large female. The fibers weren’t tight and, in a way, it was almost fetal, except for the smell. Lektereenah smelled like overcooked fish.
They headed off, in a completely different direction, away from the seamount and Keenomsh’pont entirely. For many minutes, Lektereenah said nothing and Chase, who was literally along for the ride, satisfied himself with the rhythmic undulations of her skin and flukes. Lektereenah was much younger than Mokleeoh and it showed in her stroke, which was powerful and smooth.
He felt like he was riding an underwater jet.
Could have used you on some of those wreck dives Dad and I took a few years ago.
They headed out along the rock-strewn seabed, curving abruptly to avoid patches of tubular plants and small hillocks of volcanic tuff, then crossed over a deep chasm, a ravine. Lektereenah plunged down the sheer face of the cliffside into the ravine and presently they came to a cave opening several hundred meters down. The water was cold and dense and Chase’s em’took gills had some difficulty with the pressure. Lektereenah burrowed inside the cave. Then he felt the fibers holding him secure come loose. The Metah had freed him. Chase drifted off and bumped his head on a low ceiling, then looked back at her, a bit puzzled.
“No coupling, Affectionate Metah?”
The Metah regarded him coolly.
Even in the near total darkness of the cave, he could make out some features of the Ponkti metah. Real Seomish would be pulsing like crazy in the dark, but Chase didn’t trust his own reading of the echoes, though the em’took had given him the sound bulb to do pulsing. He preferred to use his eyes, when he could.
Lektereenah was silvery white below and light gray on top. Most Ponkti females were like that. She had the characteristic V-notch in her flukes, long, delicate fingers, a short, petite beak, churning, turbulent gas bladder, even fruity natural scent. The smell reminded Chase of one of Angie’s perfumes…Jasmine something-or-other.
“We couple later. Now, we must talk. Eekoti Chase,” her insides were bubbling so violently, even Chase could tell. For sure, something was bothering her. “—you will be Kel’metah before the day is done. I ask a favor of you now, before you’re overwhelmed with petitions.”
“Overwhelmed. Honorable Metah, I’m not real sure about this Kel’metah business. I don’t know what to do, what to expect.”
This made her laugh, a short, sharp honk of bubbles. “You’ll feel like a pal’penk covered with fleas. Bites everywhere, pinches, kisses, requests, bruises and tail slaps…I doubt if you’ll sleep for days, before the kel’ke get through with you. Kel’metah is the One Who Speaks to God, to Shooki Himself. I brought you here so that we may talk, before all this happens.”
“You said you wanted a favor?” Chase felt like a city hall politico now, dispensing favors to his voters. Fix this pothole. Pave this street. Repair this sign. Great. Just friggin’ great. I’ll be the mayor of this motley crew.
Lektereenah turned serious and hovered motionless, her black button eyes boring in on him. “The Ponkti have their own repeater nets now. The waters of Urku are different but I sent them out just after we landed. They’ve spread throughout all seas. Now I hear distressing news from our repeaters.”
Chase had thought that the songs of the repeaters could be heard by everyone. That was supposed to be their very purpose. “I haven’t heard of any distressing news. And I didn’t know Ponkti repeaters had been deployed.”
“We Ponkti do what we have to. Omt’or and the other kels have ruled the seas for too long back home. Now, in our new world, it will be different. But that’s not why I wanted to talk.”
Chase was cautious, suddenly very aware that Lektereenah was blocking the cave opening. He was trapped and he felt it. “What do you want from me?”
“Just this, eekoti Chase. Ponkti repeaters have sung of a growing conflict in one of the distant seas. Already, even as we speak, even as we participate in the corps of exploration, Ponkti settlers are building a new capital in this distant sea.”
“You don’t waste much time,” Chase observed. “I thought the kels were supposed to gather after the expeditions came back, and then decide who would go where.”
“The Ponkti do what we have to do. If we wait and let the other kels decide what they’ll give us, Ponk’et will have nothing but scraps. This way, we determine our own fate. Here, on Urku, on your world, eekoti Chase, I’m determined that the rules will be different. But there is now conflict between your people, Tailless people, and our Ponkti settlers. Chase, when you are confirmed Kel’metah, I want you to go to this distant sea and mediate the conflict. Help my people. Help my kel’ke make a capital, a real home in these waters.”
Now Chase fully understood Lektereenah’s bribery for what it was. Her face and eyes glared at him and she went on, sweetening the pot.
“You may ask for anything…you’ll find we Ponkti can be very generous. Couplings with any of our females. Personal prodsmen, beyond what Kel’metah is given. Priority on the repeater nets. Riches from the potu sacks we brought with us. Your own staff, your own berth and hold spaces. Whatever you like, eekoti Chase…ask for it and I will make it happen.”
Okay, Chase told himself, this isn’t happening. How did I get into this? More to the point, she was blocking any escape he might have been planning. Keep calm, keep cool….
“Affectionate Metah, I never asked for this. I don’t want to be the great leader, the Kel’metah. I just want to help out, help out my Seomish friends. I’m not even Seomish…I’m human. Tailless.”
Lektereenah regarded him coolly. “You are more Seomish than you realize. More Omtorish than even you understand. The Ponkti only ask one thing: that you recognized historic injustices against us and that you are fair.”
With that, she came to him and engulfed him with her forepaddles. Fingers explored his body and soon found his claspers.
Chase remembered very little after that.
They returned to Keenomsh’pont and, one after the other, Chase roamed and coupled with the remaining metahs: Oolandra, Okeemah, Kolandra. Each was different in her own way. Each brought demands of her own, for her kel, for her people. When it was done, Chase figured he knew how a big-city mayor felt, petitions and demands from every quarter, unceasing. Apalachee High and working in the surf shop had never prepared him for any of this.
He understood from Oncolenia, Mokleeoh’s vizier, that there would eventually be a ceremony to complete the installation of the Kel’metah. Oncolenia was an older female, who knew from memory the entire history of Omt’or, word for word, and most of the other kels as well. Her servlings plied Chase with gisu and ertleg and portions of what looked like tuna…something Chase had a little familiarity with, bringing back memories of raucous fishing and beer-drinking binge-parties in the Gulf, seeking big game fish to show off and mount as trophies.
“What does this ceremony involve?” Chase asked between bites. They were sheltered beneath a small platform near the Metah’s quarters, protected from petitioners and sight-seers by a squad of prodsmen ringing the area.
Oncolenia saw to it that Chase got plenty to eat and drink. “These ceremonies have never been done in recent history. The last was from the time of Omt’or herself…Omt’or, Daughter of Shooki and her offspring Kreeda’ke and Pomel.”
Chase dredged up a faint memory of some kind of history lesson he had barely listened to from his echopod. “Weren’t they the First Mortals?�
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Oncolenia seemed pleased that Chase remembered. She absent-mindedly groomed his face as he ate, removing scraps and wiping his mouth, a grandmotherly set to her lips. “Very good, eekoti Chase. Very good…this you remember. Kel’metah must know these things.”
“I never was all that good at History.”
“The Kel’metah wears the necklaces that Pomel wore; necklaces of potu and pal’penk teeth. They haven’t been removed from their pods in thousands of mah. Then there is the ritual scarring, just along your dorsals…it’s very important.”
Chase stopped chewing. “Scarring. Like a tattoo, you mean?”
“Exactly, if I understand how your pod is translating. The markings show your rank as First Speaker, over all the kels. And you will have a court of your own…you will need some coaching and teaching, eekoti Chase. Kel’metah must show proper ke’shoo and ke’lee at all times, his bubbles must be pure. The people will pulse you deeply. The Kel’metah must have proper echoes. All this will be done by the mekli priestesses. Even now, they’re getting ready. But first you must rest…here. I will see that you’re not disturbed.”
Oncolenia conferred with prodsmen chief of the guard, then did something with the bubble curtains surrounding the small quarters. The bubbles fizzed and thickened as she vanished.
Chase looked on forlornly as she departed.
I think I’d rather be dusting T-shirt racks at the Turtle Key Surf Shop. He smiled ruefully at the thought, knowing his Dad would never have believed that.
After some heated discussion and arguing, Chase managed to secure permission to leave his ‘prison’ for a time and go hunt down Likteek. He found the old scientist just inside the Lab’s warren of caves, fiddling with a balky soundbulb.
Likteek was startled at his appearance. “I didn’t think you should be seen with ordinary kelke…not until the ceremony…the teng’kloosh.”
“Yeah, well they let me out for good behavior, I guess. Lik, I need some answers.” Chase explained how the roamings and couplings had gone, then described Lektereenah’s demands and scarcely veiled threats.
Likteek put down his soundbulb and flippered about the small cave in thought. “Chase, you will encounter this often, as Kel’metah. The people want a leader. Even the metahs and the Kel’em councilors recognize that someone has to speak for all of us. We’re alone in this new world, we’re just a small band of immigrants in the vast seas of Urku. If we aren’t united and strong together, we may perish…Shooki has even foreseen this. The mekli have talked of this, reading in the ancient echobulbs the words of our ancestors.”
“Lektereenah talked of conflict, in some far-off distant seas. Lik, I want to go see this for myself and listen and try to help. Not for Lektereenah’s reasons. For the very reasons you just mentioned. Believe me, humans have hunted thousands of species to extinction. I know enough history to know that. Anything we don’t like, we eliminate. And you’re right: the immigrants, the tu’kelke, are in danger. If humans see you, or us, as a threat, they’ll just try to eliminate the threat. That’s what we do. Lik, my Dad never thought I would amount to much, but he did try to teach me and my brother and sister to do the right thing. Is there any way I can listen to the repeater songs and messages from the Ponkti and Skortish exploring teams and get them translated? Maybe I could figure out where they went and what’s happened? If I could understand what this conflict is about, maybe I could go there and kind of talk...you know, mediate. Negotiate. We have to find a way to live with the humans. If we don’t, the Seomish have no future. Not on Earth.”
Likteek said, “All the kels have their own repeaters and message types. But it should be recorded somewhere, even by us Omtorish. Repeater songs are heard by everybody. If I can get the messages, I can get them translated.”
Chase went back to the Metah’s quarters to prepare for the teng’kloosh. A few hours later, Likteek was escorted into the court chamber by two prodsmen. He carried a single echobulb, which he activated. The quarters were filled with staccato chirps and squeaks, honks, whistles and grunts. Chase felt a vague sense of rhythm to the noise, but looked on blankly as Likteek nodded silent, his eyes closed, absorbing the messages. When it was done, he opened his eyes.
“This bulb contains all the repeater songs for the last three days. The messages from the Ponkti and Skortish explorers fill only a few minutes. They speak of the farthest seas, of skirmishes with Tailless forces, of constant interference with their attempts to construct a small settlement…it even has a name: T’kel’rok. Named for a valley near Ponk’t, back on Seome.”
“That’s what Lektereenah said. That they were already building settlements. I thought the kels weren’t supposed to do that until after the Separation.”
Likteek agreed. “That was the public agreement, yes.”
Chase winced as the servlings applied the last of the tattoos to his back, a series of ritual scars and markings along his dorsal fin. “Ouch…watch it, okay?” He shoved the servlings aside, but let one of them lay the necklaces of potu pearls and pal’penk teeth around his neck, arms and fins. When they were done, Oncolenia appeared and inspected Chase from head to foot, pronouncing herself satisfied.
“You’re finally ready,” she murmured, a slight catch in her voice. “The platform is ready too. Eekoti Chase, now is the time. All others—” she glared at Likteek and the servlings, “must leave.”
A detail of prodsmen accompanied Chase outside and they ascended the nearer slope of the seamount to a small promontory a few hundred meters above the seabed. The waters were brisk, the currents were strong and Chase could barely see anything. But he sensed the thousands gathered below…an undulating, rippling wave rolling and swirling around the base of the mountain, lending a living, breathing, excitable quality to the seabed.
Oncolenia introduced Chase to three repeaters who would convey his first words to the gathering and then far and wide across the seas of Urku. She gave their names but Chase’s heart was pounding so hard he barely heard them.
Then Oncolenia retreated and he was alone on the promontory. He’d never done well in Public Speaking at school. Snatches of the Gettysburg Address came to mind…four score and seven years ago. No, don’t do that. A Croc Boys song came to mind…we’re all just livin’ in the dark…groping around to do our part…No, not that either. Plus he didn’t have his go-tone to strum. This isn’t the senior prom, you idiot.
In the end, Chase Meyer just said what was on his heart. Stumbling at first, his mouth dry and his heart racing, Chase wondered what the U.S. Navy would think, for he was sure they were nearby, listening. They would be part of the audience as well.
“Tu’kelke,” he began, “I just want to speak a few words. When I first came to Seome, one of the first words I learned was ‘kel.’ I was told it means family. Although there are many kels, there is one tu’kelke…there’s one family. We have to be strong and united as a family. We have to care for each other. We have to nurture each other. If we don’t, the humans, the Tailless, will destroy all the kels. I know this because I’m not like you. I’m part human. I know what humans do. Somehow, some way, the kels have to get along and cooperate. And then, united as one family, we have to learn how to live with the humans. They live on the land. The Notwater. We—you—live in the sea. We ought to be able to get along. We have to get along. My job…with your help…is to find ways to do that.”
Even as he spoke, schools of silvery fish fluttered by, right in his face, and he wound up flailing at them, slapping them away. Not very leaderlike, he figured, but what could you do? And then he heard it, welling up from below.
It wasn’t a roar so much as a chorus. A million voices in synch, clicking, whistling, honking, bellowing, grunting and chirping…it sounded like forest full of birds gone berserk. For a moment, he wasn’t sure, then he realized it was the assembled tu’kelke, as one, raising their voices and his echopod couldn’t keep up with it all, couldn’t translate it all and the thing gave up and quit.
; Out of the swirl of schooling fish and the cacophony welling up from below, the chief of the prodsmen guard appeared and gently escorted Chase down from his promontory. Bodies flashed by and bumped them but the prodsmen were expert at clearing a path and he soon found himself back at the Metah’s canopy, Mokleeoh’s quarters. Likteek was there too, an excited look on his face. He had a soundbulb in one hand.
Mokleeoh indicated the scientist. “Likteek insisted on seeing you. He was most insistent…I have always found it wise to hear out my Kelk’too lab people…Likteek, speak now—”
The scientist held up the bulb. “Repeaters captured this just a short time ago. It’s a Tailless message…part of one. We thought you should hear it…perhaps you can tell us what it says.” He activated the bulb and a scratchy, but recognizably human voice filled the tent. It was in English too, accented in some way, but understandable.
“…near a reef called the Reed Banks. The disturbance is thought to be related to the new species recently discovered in the Atlantic, a new marine species of some intelligence. Oceanographers in Beijing have noted that the species seems to be spreading rapidly and is now in the eastern Pacific in significant numbers. Already the Peoples’ Liberation Navy is assembling a force to investigate and engage the intruders, who are trespassing on sacred Chinese territory….”
The words brought a chill to Chase’s neck. Em’took-modified, he wasn’t sure if there were any hairs to stand up, but it sure felt like there were.
Now what Lektereenah had said, what she had demanded, was beginning to make sense. Chase knew enough geography to know that Nan Zhongguo Hai was the South China Sea. Listening to the words longer told Chase that the Ponkti and the Skortish explorers were building a settlement in or around the Reed Banks of the South China Sea and that the settlement was seen to be infringing on Chinese territorial waters. The announcer added that Russian and Japanese officials were seeing similar encroachments in their own sensitive territorial waters.
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