by Zaide Bishop
Eden, the massive white dome they had been raised in by their teachers, was on the mainland. While they had been inside it, separated from the Elikai by walls, they had thought it was the whole world. That nothing existed beyond it. They had been happy there, until one of their sisters, November, had been wounded by one of the teachers. She took her own life, and the Varekai had flown into a rage. The teachers had died in their rampage, and somehow, after weeks in hell without food or light, the Varekai and Elikai had escaped Eden.
But the nightmares never ended.
“I need to speak with Charlie about it.” India rose to her feet, a little steadier now.
“She’s on the eastern beach,” Whiskey said.
India nodded and padded away from the Varekai village. As she walked, she pondered what she would say to Charlie. How could she tell their leader that everything they knew was wrong? That babies did not come from Eden and that animals were like plants? It sounded crazy.
Beyond the trees, the beach opened up to miles of clear, white sand. The ocean was a rich turquoise, sparkling in the sun, and the horizon was only broken by the massive hulls of rusting ships caught up on the reefs several miles out from the beach.
The water was achingly clear. Clear enough for Charlie to be waist-deep, wading around with a spear. There was no sign of sharks or the large crocodiles that often populated the beach. The day was too warm; they would be out deeper, somewhere on the reef where food was plentiful and it was not so hot.
“Charlie!” India called, trotting across the hot sand.
The water had washed much of the dye and clay from Charlie’s skin, so she stood nut-brown with only hints of the white-and-black animal patterns that India was used to. She grinned when she saw her sister, waving the spear in greeting and wading back toward the shore.
“No luck?” India asked, seeing her sister carried no fish.
She laughed. “Who needs luck when the sky is this blue?”
“Come and sit.”
They walked up the beach together and sat in the shade. Charlie found a green coconut and split it. They shared the milk and chipped away at the raw flesh for a time, enjoying the waves and breeze in silence.
“The hen’s eggs didn’t hatch.”
“None of them? You did lock her in a little cage, India. You should have left her alone.”
“Her eggs didn’t hatch. The ones she laid in the cage. Two I took from the other hens did.”
Charlie shrugged. “Sorry it didn’t work. I don’t really understand why you did it at all.”
“It did work, Charlie.” India met he gaze. “Don’t you see? It worked.”
Charlie arched an eyebrow. “You didn’t want the eggs to hatch?”
“It’s not about the eggs. It’s about the roosters.”
Charlie looked even more confused. “Roosters don’t lay eggs, India.”
“They fertilize them.”
“What?”
“Like plants, Charlie. Like we learned in Eden. You need the pollen from one flower to move to another flower to make fruit or seeds. The roosters have the pollen, that’s why they mount the hens. To fertilize them. Eggs are fruit.”
Charlie stared at her. “You’re mental, India. You’ve flipped off the deep end and you’re swimming for the horizon.”
“I’m not!”
“Animals are not plants. And what if they were?”
“Varekai are animals.”
“No we’re not. The teachers—”
India clenched her fists. “The teachers lied when they said we grew in Eden. They let November die, and they lied to us about everything.”
“Not plants?”
“The books didn’t lie. But we never had any books about growing chickens. They told us, and we believed them. It’s why we always need a rooster, Charlie.”
“The roosters protect the hens. They’re bigger. They kill snakes. They’re not pollen, and I’m not a chicken.”
India nodded, but inside she was sick with anger and frustration. “Varekai are animals. Varekai are hens, and—” she hesitated, “—Elikai are roosters.”
“What!” Charlie stared.
“They have wattles! They’re bigger! We have breasts like bitches have teats. We never came from Eden, Charlie. We were... The teachers bred us!”
Charlie stood up suddenly, tossing aside her coconut and dusting off the sand. When she looked down, India realized her eyes were hard with anger.
“That’s enough. No more of this crazy stuff. There are lots of reasons those eggs might not have hatched. Sisters come from Eden. We’re not like animals or plants. I don’t want you worrying the rest of the tribe.”
Scooping up her spear, she stomped back down the beach into the water. India sat for a moment, watching her, then she rose to her feet too, wiping away the tears in her eyes. She started down the path, back toward the village, but pulled up short when she sensed she was not alone.
“Who’s there?”
Whiskey ghosted out from behind a tree to stand on the path behind India. She turned to face her sister, irritated now.
“Did you follow me?”
“I had to know what was so important.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “And now you think I’m crazy too.”
Whiskey smiled a dangerously friendly smile. “Not at all, little sister. I think you are very, very smart.”
* * *
Tare was huddled behind the waterfall at Ram’s Head, resting against the smooth, cool stone. The waterfall itself gave little privacy; it was just a healthy trickle, enough to stand under and bathe, but not a roaring sheet of water that would drown out words or hide a brother from sight.
The pool below was half saltwater and frequently full of stonefish. So despite its charming appearance, no one came here unless they wanted poison for their darts.
The cave beyond the waterfall was roomier than a hut. In fact, it got bigger as it got deeper, but without light it was treacherous. India and Tare had never gone any further than the first chamber, where it was light enough to see clearly during the day and there was room for them to stretch out on the furs and woven mats Tare had laid out for them.
Waiting left Tare sick with anticipation. He breathed slowly, quietly, listening for the rattle of bones and glass in India’s hair. He felt as if he were vibrating, waiting for his soul mate to arrive, his painted skin always in such stark contrast, matte white on India’s unusually dark hide. Tare always arrived early, and by the time India showed up he had always worked himself into a fit of worry, terrified the smaller brother had fallen prey to some predator on the way.
It was unfair that they had to be apart at all, but India was insistent the Varekai would not tolerate them being together. Tare wasn’t entirely sure how the Elikai would react either. With disgust, probably, if they knew what he and India had been up to. And anger; with the Varekai kidnapping an Elikai every week, Tare’s friendship with India would be seen as a betrayal.
There was no warning, no sound or shadow to give away his approach. India was just suddenly there, slipping past the water and into the cave.
Tare pulled India down into his arms, holding him close and breathing in the reassuring musk of him. India smiled, brushing back his hair and kissing his temple and forehead.
“I hate being away from you,” Tare grumbled. “Why can’t we spend more time together?”
“We have work to do,” India reminded him. “And we can’t travel back and forth from here in the dark.”
“We could stay here. All night.”
“Our sisters would worry. They would follow us, and then we couldn’t see each other at all. They will not understand.” India sighed, and it was so sad that Tare could tell something else was playing on his mind. Something worse than
their liaisons.
“What is it?” He stroked India’s face and rubbed the dry clay that came off between his fingers.
“Do you know about flowers and pollination?”
“Vaguely.” Tare did not have much interest in flowers but for those that heralded fruit. For that reason, passion-fruit flowers were his favorite—though they also seemed to be the favorite of the possums.
“To make a seed or fruit, you need two plants.” India held up both index fingers and brought them together. “One provides pollen from pistils, which is taken to another plant and deposited on the stamen by insects or the wind. Those things together make new life.”
Tare nodded, listening as he nuzzled India’s skin.
“Have you seen roosters mount chickens? And dogs mount bitches?”
“Yes,” he murmured. “Sometimes it looks like they’re having sex.”
Which was exactly what Tare wanted to do. Right now. Just smelling India’s skin made him hard.
“I think they’re fertilizing one another. Like flowers.”
Tare paused, his erection pitted in a momentary battle with his rational mind. “Okay.”
“I took our best broody hen and put her in a cage away from the roosters. I let her lay some eggs, and then I took some eggs from hens that were still with the roosters. Only the latter hatched.”
It made sense, Tare decided. Most animals coupled in the same way. It could have something to do with reproduction.
“And,” India continued, tilting his head up so he was forced to meet his gaze, “I think we’re the same.”
Tare frowned. “The Elikai ‘mount’ one another all the time. No one has laid any eggs.”
“That’s because you’re all roosters.”
There was a long pause. His erection wilted as the implications sank in.
“Roosters? But that means...” What India was implying was both terrible and oddly beautiful. “That can’t be right. Elikai and Varekai are too different. We can’t be the same animal.”
“The paradise birds are very different. More different than roosters and hens even, but we see them pair and raise chicks.”
“So you—” he slid his hand between India’s legs to touch the opening India called a shell, “—you could make eggs? Have you laid an egg?”
She frowned and shook her head. “No. I don’t know why I haven’t. Maybe it takes a long time. Maybe we haven’t been together often enough.”
“But will the babies come out Elikai or Varekai?”
“I guess there would be some of each.”
Tare hesitated, letting the idea roll over in his mind. They needed more brothers and sisters. The numbers in both tribes were dwindling. It seemed like one day there would be no Varekai or Elikai left at all.
On the other hand, birth was not without its risks. Sometimes the hens became egg-borne and died. Sometimes the bitches strained and strained only to bleed out without whelping a single live puppy. Sometimes the goats gave birth to deformed, lifeless mutations with too many faces, or no legs, or horns instead of eyes.
The act of sex, something that only moments earlier he had been keen and excited for, took on a whole new meaning. And a whole new set of risks. Tare would do nothing that would put India at risk.
“Do you believe me?” India asked tentatively when Tare had been silent for some time.
“Yes,” he said, without reserve. “If you believe it, I believe it.”
India’s eyes lit up with a smile. “Charlie called me crazy.”
“That’s because if it’s true, it’s too horrible to think about. All these years we’ve been at war, killing one another and driving each other away. If you’re right, our brothers and—” he hesitated, stumbling over the word, “—sisters had been dying for nothing. Dying when we should have been working together.”
“What should we do?”
He shrugged helplessly. “You’re the smart one. I’m just pretty.”
“And modest,” he teased.
“Very modest.” Tare nodded earnestly, and India kissed him, pushing him back against the mat.
“And all mine. I knew you would believe me.”
“Wait.” He tried to hold the smaller brother off. “If it’s true, sex could be risky.”
“I didn’t come all this way to just look at you, Tare.” India kissed his cheek, his neck, his chest.
“Yes, but...” He was already getting hard again. His body was overriding any kind of sense of fear. Being with India was intoxicating and overwhelming. He never felt more alive or awake than when he was touching him. Tasting him. Thrusting inside him.
India’s hand had snaked down his body, stroking his balls with a featherlight caress. He groaned, giving up any pretense of resistance. Maybe he would be able to think clearly again when the blood had returned to his head.
Chapter Three
The Elikai village was on the shore of a sandy beach, looking east into the long channels and clusters of islands that made up the archipelago. There were about a dozen structures, all made from stones and wood, with hide or bamboo for roofing and hides strung across the doorways. Most were for sleeping, but there was also a smokehouse, weapon shed and food hut, which were shared communally.
Lean, black dogs slunk around the camp, sleeping under bushes and scavenging for meat scraps around the communal fire pit. Much of the land around the Elikai camp was cleared of trees, allowing them to spread out and construct more, or mend nets and hang up meats or hides to dry. Despite this, most of their hens had been taken by snakes, and there was little livestock around but for the dogs. Occasionally they would kill wild sows and catch their piglets, keeping them penned for a month or two until they were large enough to make a decent meal, but with the dry season ending, the pens were empty. Their piglets were all butchered and smoked already, hanging in the food hut, waiting for the wet.
“Here.” Romeo sat down beside Sugar, offering him a banana leaf stacked with roasted yams, baked fish and caramelized fruits, still steaming from the coals.
“Oh. Thank you,” Sugar said, distracted. He picked at the food absently while Romeo made himself comfortable on the sand beside him. Sugar’s mind kept drifting back to the exchange with the Varekai on the sandbank.
Charlie’s grin, the way he dared Sugar to measure more of his body. It was like the Varekai had some kind of magic that overwhelmed Sugar and left him intoxicated and unable to resist. Charlie flustered him, left him tongue-tied and unable to think of a good reason not to give him exactly what he wanted. The Varekai was making him look like a fool. Though perhaps less of a fool than Love, who he was going to have to ban from leaving the camp at this rate.
If Charlie hadn’t been at the exchange, if it had just been Tango, or even the frightening little witchdoctor India, Sugar was sure he would negotiate much more successfully. He would be firm; he would haggle them down and perhaps intimidate them a little.
If he tried that with Charlie, the Varekai would just grin or grab his breasts or sidle up too close, and Sugar would be lost again.
Romeo nudged him. “Are you listening?”
He wasn’t. At all.
“Sorry, Romeo.”
“Come to my hut.”
“Your hut?” Such blatant propositions were normal in the Elikai village, but Sugar was still momentarily confused, because it was so unusual for Romeo to be asking. Sugar had never slept with Romeo before. In fact, few Elikai had ever had sexual contact with him. Romeo was notorious for rejecting any advances. Sugar had always assumed it was because he didn’t want to be mocked.
In Eden, Romeo had been a Varekai. It was only when the world was born that he joined the Elikai, and he had Varekai parts still. No penis, and small, budded breasts, though not so large as to be noticeable. Not like Charlie.
&
nbsp; He didn’t paint his skin or bleed on the full moon like the Varekai either, so most of the time the tribe forgot Romeo hadn’t been with them from the very start.
Romeo narrowed his pale violet eyes. “Made of stone and wood. I sleep in it. You remember. You have one too.”
“Yes, I...know what it is, Romeo. I’m just not sure why you would ask me.”
“Because it’s you I want.”
“Ask Tare, he’s always up for it.”
“He’s not here. And I don’t want him.”
Sugar shrugged. “I don’t know what you want me to tell you, Romeo. You know the rules.”
In Eden, the teachers had punished the Elikai for touching each other. Or themselves. When they world was born and it was just them, they had started again. Over time, they had learned a number of ways to have sex. With that had come a system of guilt-free permission. There was no shame in asking, and there was no shame in being rejected.
Sometimes, someone like Love would get jealous. In truth, his fixation on Tare was probably a little unhealthy. And sometimes brothers like Fox and Romeo avoided sex at all costs, unless their need got too dire. For the most part, the system worked well, and it worked with the understanding that badgering and whining would not be tolerated.
“You don’t want me?” Romeo looked stung.
“I don’t want anyone right now.”
“It’s because I’m not like our brothers,” he said bitterly. Sugar sighed.
“One of the other brothers will be happy to have you, Romeo. I am not. It’s not open for debate. We all have the right to make our own choices and mine is not you.”
He regretted the way Romeo flinched when he said it, but he really wasn’t in the mood to be harassed. Not when his thoughts kept drifting to Charlie. His fingertip was still stained black from the ink on the Varekai’s skin.
“Sugar!” Tare padded up to them, face flushed with excitement. “I have to tell you something. It’s important.”
Sugar sighed. He doubted Tare had said anything important in his entire life. To say his blue-eyed brother was whimsical and flippant was still an understatement. Beside him, Romeo was practically vibrating with hurt and anger. “Can it wait?” Romeo growled.