Yana and Becq were swimming in the lagoon when they saw the line of men and women returning from the hunt. Yana pointed out the stretcher. She and Becq hauled themselves out of the gentle green waters, on to the beach. Yana was wearing a white bikini, Becq a black swimsuit. White sand clung to their feet as they marched up to the village and the two women halted when they saw the body.
‘Oh no,’ Yana said. ‘What. .. what happened?’
Manolin approached the girls, his arms wide. He managed to steer them back, and they looked over his arms, their eyes still red from the salt water.
Manolin said, ‘There was an accident, during the hunt.’
‘What... Is he all right? Becq asked.
Manolin looked her right in the eye, and shook his head. ‘No. He passed away. I’m sorry.’
‘Oh, no,’ Yana shouted. Then, more quietly, ‘Oh, fuck no.’
‘I’m afraid so,’ Manolin said. ‘He took a dart in the neck. We tried to help, but it was too late.’
He let go of the two women, and they didn’t move. Their bodies were stained by the paint from Manolin’s torso. They stared at the corpse that was yards away.
Manolin waited for a reaction but none came.
‘He’s with Arrahd now,’ Manolin said. He didn’t know whether saying something like that would have any effect, particularly because they were people of science, not spirituality, but it felt right. When it came down to it, Manolin thought, to the stresses of life, science went out the window. People clung to their basest beliefs, no matter how rational a person was. It made everything easier. Or perhaps, science went only so far to explain things. What it couldn’t yet explain, people dismissed as spiritual. But he was more open to suggestion than that.
‘What happened, Manolin,’ Yana asked. ‘I mean, what actually happened?’
Manolin glanced back to watch the body being carried towards the village, the line of natives that followed. Santiago, Forb and Jefry were walking with them. ‘He was struck in the neck by one of the darts that was meant for a hog. The darts are deadly. Somehow he got in the way.’
‘Who fired the dart?’ Becq said.
‘I don’t know. There were a lot of us firing. It could’ve been any one of us, I suppose.’
‘So, one of you killed him?’ Yana said.
‘I haven’t looked at it like that,’ he said. ‘It’s an accident. Nothing more. I think it would be helpful if we didn’t look at things in that way.’
The three of them walked towards the village. The two women picked up their clothes. The sun had dried their bodies. He watched Yana, focussing on her skin, which had browned since they had left the shore. Becq was a little too slender for his own liking, not that he’d even consider doing anything with her. He looked at the two of them, side by side. They were so different from each other. Yana had curves, her hair had grown long. The sun had made her look younger. Becq seemed to burn in the sun. Her face was red from the wind and heat. He thought her nose was a little too wide for her to be pretty. Yana had a more pointed nose. Sure she was older, but he found her much more attractive than Becq. Aware of what exactly he was thinking, he shook his head. It seemed as though he wanted to be distracted by the day’s events.
As the women got dressed, Manolin caught sight of a group of villagers that were strolling from the forest. They carried hogs on spears that were placed on the shoulders of two individuals per animal. He counted five hogs in total. They were large animals, their weight tilting them upside down on the spears so that their stocky legs pointed to the sky. Blood had congealed in streaks across their bodies, the wounds from the darts had turned black like a tumour.
He felt a little guilty as, in his mind, he compared the hogs to Arth-he couldn’t help it. They’d both shared the same fate, yet he looked at these animals with barely any emotion at all. The hunt was part of an island cycle, a natural cycle, of which death was an essential feature. That was no way to think about a friend though. He watched the group pass, then he and the women followed.
They approached the others that were gathered around Arth’s body. The silence may have come from respect, or sheer shock at the fact that someone, a foreigner, a visitor had died. The natives seemed peaceful and comfortable with the corpse. Jefry was crying, crouched next to the body. Yana walked up to him. For the first time in as long as he could remember, she put her arm around her husband. She crouched down next to him, and he turned into her and nestled on her neck. His black tail lay still. Yana looked up at Manolin, who then regarded the sea.
He sighed, strolled thoughtfully over to the lower shore, near the ebbing tide, where the water was clearest. From where he was stood you could see the shadow of the reef, the waves that were being broken upon it, some way in the distance. At this hour you had to squint to protect your eyes from the sun. From there, the reef was a darkness on the surface of the water, as if a ship had sunk. He could tell it was there, longed to be able to sit on one of the tiny coral islands, where only one or two species of seaweed existed, lying in the sun.
Suddenly, he couldn’t be sure if he heard a song.
It was like the previous night. He could hear it, but quieter. A shiver descended his spine. The sand was bright. He felt isolated. No sooner had he heard it then it had gone and all he could hear was the sound of the waves.
To one side, an ichthyocentaur was standing ten yards away, also staring out to sea. It was the one from the forest that came with Forb. Manolin coughed, held his hands up ready to sign the greeting he had learned the day before. The ichthyocentaur didn’t move. The sand was so bright behind the creature that it appeared at first in silhouette.
It was just staring towards the reef.
Forb joined Manolin and placed his hand on his shoulder. Manolin shuddered as he was brought out of a trance.
‘Weird at first, aren’t they?’ Forb said.
Manolin said, ‘They’ll seem weird for a long time yet.’
‘Amazing place, isn’t it.’
‘I have to say I’ve never seen anywhere quite like this. I can’t believe how clear the waters are, especially down by the lagoon. And
I’ve never seen so much life as in that lagoon.’ ‘Yes,’ Forb said. ‘It’s quite something. You know, your huts form little artificial reefs?’
‘Really? I hadn’t looked too close at them. I expect if I were a creature I’d set up camp there. Nutrient run-off from the land. Stability and protection from the sea by that bank of sand. I’d be one happy fish in there.’
Forb laughed. ‘I’m glad someone like you is here. I suppose we could’ve had anyone come, but it’s good to know you understand the place. Sure, that Santiago chap is bright, but you’ve really got a feel for things here.’
Manolin said, ‘Oh, there’s still a lot for me to learn.’ ‘Exactly. It’s always that way. So then. What do you think will happen now?’
‘Not sure,’ Manolin said. ‘It’s up to Santiago really, but I can’t see him wanting to leave without surveying the island and finding out what was killing those chaps.’ He indicated the ichthyocentaur.
Forb nodded.
Manolin said, ‘I really don’t think we’ll be going anywhere for a while.’ ‘Good.’ ‘Don’t know what we’re going to do about Arth’s body though.’ ‘No, tough one,’ Forb said, rubbing his chin. He ran his hand over his bald head, as was his habit. ‘You know, we can perform some sort of funeral if you’d like.’
‘It’ll have to be talked over with the others,’ Manolin said. ‘I think it’s going to be a bit of a shock for a while. We’ve been here, what, only a couple of days and one of our team has died. Not in a pretty way either.’
Forb said, ‘No, it wasn’t nice. As long as I’ve been here, no one has died in the hunt. I’m surprised no one has blamed me for it yet.’ ‘Oh it’s no one’s fault. It’s just a shock that someone’s died, and so early, too.’
‘We’re used to death here,’ Forb said. ‘We’ve lost so many ichthyocentaurs now. I guess that’s
why none of the villagers seem all that bothered by another body. I guess they’re only curious as they’ve never seen a rumel.’
‘No,I guess they haven’t. I guess they’re just as interested in us as we are in them.’
Forb said, ‘I doubt it.’
‘Really?’ Manolin said.
‘I had the same problem of you,’ Forb said. ‘I called it “newcomer ego”. They’re not all that bothered about you. Sure, they wonder what you’re doing here, and yes the rumel are interesting to them, but they get on with life in a different way. They’ll welcome you, but don’t think that they have a boring existence without you.’ Forb spoke in a gentle, kind manner.
‘I know,’ Manolin said. ‘I guess we’re curious in them and this island because life on the mainland isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. We’ve been waiting a long time for something like this to come up. A real chance to explore the world. And within two days someone dies.’
Forb nodded.
Manolin turned with the doctor to face the village. He could see the dark forest, the palms being aired by the easterly breeze. They began to walk back.
‘Tell me, how much do you know about the ichthyocentaur deaths?’ Manolin asked.
‘Not a great amount, I’m afraid. I usually find them first thing in the morning, at some stretch of the beach. Mostly on the other side of the island, when I’m out for my morning surf. Like I said to Santiago, their innards are removed. Sometimes you get just stab wounds.’
Manolin said, ‘Ever seen one of them get killed?’ ‘No. No, the island isn’t huge, but there’s still a lot of beach to keep an eye on.’ ‘Hmm. I don’t suppose, and I know this sounds stupid, but I don’t suppose you hear anything when they’re being killed?’
‘How do you mean?’
Manolin said, ‘Like a melody? I know that sounds ridiculous.’
‘You’ve heard that too, then?’ Forb said.
‘I was hoping it was my imagination.’
‘No, I’ve heard something. A slight sound. It’s the only common link, since you mention it. I don’t always hear it though. Often, it’s out of my hearing.’
‘How long have the deaths been happening now?’ Manolin said.
Forb said, ‘Oh, about a year, on and off. Apparently, years before I came, there was a similar spate of deaths, but it stopped after a month or two. This had been happening for four months on and off when I sent those ichthyocentaur to the mainland. You see, no one knew these creatures were still alive. They needed to be saved, purely in the name of science and ethics. It was just right that more people see knew about them. Didn’t want them all to die, you see? I knew sending them to the mainland would provoke interest from knowledgeable quarters.’
‘Well, we’re here. We’ll certainly try and find out what’s going on,
Forb, but it looks as though we can’t even save ourselves.’
Forb was silent.
Manolin said, ‘So how come you’re here then?’
‘Sorry?’
He was intrigued as to why the doctor would not return home, to Escha. Certainly, it was a beautiful place, but was that really enough to leave life behind? ‘Why’ve you chosen to stay here, on Arya, rather than go back to the mainland?’
‘Oh, well you only have to look at the place.’ ‘It certainly is beautiful.’ He looked at the forest, and the elegant cone of the volcano leaning up behind.
Forb said, ‘Not just that, of course. I got sick of the city and all the politics in Has-jahn. I came here for research, my own research after following up rumours of the ichthyocentaurs. That’s another reason I’m here: I wanted to study how they used plants. People say they can cure nearly anything with their botanical knowledge. People say that they never get ill. Most medicine comes from plants or nature, and here, somehow, that tribe are leagues ahead of anything we human or rumel have managed. I’ve got a need to learn from them.’
Manolin said. ‘That’s why I’m pretty excited to be here, too.’ After a moment of listening to the tide, Forb spoke again. ‘So what else are all going to be doing here?’
‘A thorough survey. Mapping, geological mapping, biological survey. The usual sort of stuff. We’ve submersibles to check out the coast. They can go pretty deep, too. We’re in the employ of a mayor, funnily enough. But we can also sell a lot of this knowledge to academics. That’s how we’ll make most of our money. The maps of the seas fetch a lot, but scientific theory has a price, too. There’s a first for knowledge. Tends to be the way this age, after the rebellion to science, and all that. Plus we enjoy doing it.’
, Sound’s good. Just the sort of thing I’d used to be involved in, once.’ Forb glanced down. ‘Well if you need a hand with anything, just come and find me, or Myranda. Local knowledge is useful. Any of the villagers can help. Take little Lewys along, I’m sure he’ll find it exciting.’
‘Myranda is certainly beautiful. I guess that makes staying easier.’
Forb laughed. ‘It certainly does, you know. Yes, she is beautiful, in my eyes and yours. But the other islanders, as I said before, don’t find her all that much. Strange, isn’t it?’
Manolin said nothing.
Forb said, ‘She thinks you’re attractive, too.’
Manolin stopped, frowned. ‘I’m sorry?’
‘Oh come on, you must’ve seen the way she looks at you.’
Manolin gave an uncomfortable laugh. ‘Forb, that’s your wife you’re talking about-’ Forb gave what Manolin thought was a genuine smile, which made what he said seem even stranger.
‘You should join us for supper. I know little Lewys lights up when you’re around. He’s quite a bright boy. He doesn’t much like playing with the other children, and you’re the first person I’ve known to talk to him like he’s normal. As if he’s a grown man. Kids like that.’
‘Well I, uh, that is, um, yes, sure, okay. I’ll have to see what we’re going to do with Arth’s body first. But sure, that’d be great. I take it there’lI be no feast from the hunt though, now that Arth’s dead?’
‘To the villagers, that’s even more of a reason to celebrate.’
‘I’m sorry?’ Manolin smirked, thinking he had a lot to come to terms with.
‘Well when someone dies here, they celebrate their life, not mourn their death. You see, to them, death is around every corner. We just never look at things like that. They’re prepared for death, and so celebrate the life of whoever’s died. I really think you ought to mention it to Jefry. I think he’d like it. Perhaps he could tell stories about Arth. There’d be dancing and food. I tell you what, Manolin. When I go, I sure as hell want a celebration. Couldn’t stand seeing all the people I know crying.’
Manolin nodded, deep in thought.
They approached the group, who were standing around Arth’s body. It had been covered over with a blanket. Only Jefry was looking at it.
Santiago said, ‘Right, well someone had better tell Calyban and Soul what’s gone on. Are they in their little shack?’
‘Don’t know,’ Yana said. ‘Probably.’
‘Probably sucking each other off,’ Santiago said as he stalked into the forest, fists clenched.
Manolin walked along the edge of the lagoon after retrieving a bottle of whiskey he’d stashed on the ship. At a particular point during the trip to Arya, he had realised that drinking wasn’t the best solution for getting over his wife. The moon was not quite full, but he could see thousands of tiny reflections of it out at sea. The village was cast under an amber light from the funeral pyre, the flames noticeable above the ring of thatched huts. Another mild night, pleasant in the breeze. The aroma of roasting hog wafted nearby. Manolin clutched the neck of the bottle tight in his right hand, advanced along the firmer sand. The sounds of drum beats and chanting echoed along the shore, rhythmic, enchanting, and it filled him with anticipation as he approached. Santiago, who had donned his top hat for the evening, was silhouetted by the fire. Next to him was Yana and Becq, and they were all watching a group
of natives dancing around the flames. The movements of the locals were strange, spasmodic, and it made him smile because it reminded him of some of the bars back in Escha. People liked to dance no matter where you were.
Jefry was standing the other side of the fire, still talking to a group of native children, who were sitting crossed legged on the sand, their faces bright and warm in the firelight. Jefry made exaggerated movements, his voice occasionally audible over the drubs. He was still telling the children about Arth and the antics that they used to get up to. Manolin felt warm inside, relieved that Jefry was happy in this moment. Manolin couldn’t exactly hear what the rumel was saying, but he heard the children laughing and giggling throughout the performance. His mind raced across many stories that Jefry had told him before. They were always getting up to no good in the labs, playing pranks. Sometimes they’d even fake remains of a bizarre creature to pass it off as Qe Falta to frighten people. Always, there was drink involved, a laugh, a shared love of gambling.
Manolin joined Yana, Becq and Santiago. ‘Ah, Manny, you’ve got the strong stuff then?’ Santiago said, his gaze flipping to the bottle in Manolin’s hand.
‘Oh, yes. But it’s for later. The doctor asked me to have supper with him and Myranda, so I thought I’d bring something special along. You know, make it nice.’
Santiago said, ‘Did he now?’ Manolin couldn’t read his face clearly. ‘Yes. I find I get on quite well with him. We’ve a lot in common.’ ‘Did you say Myranda was going to be there?’ Becq asked. She was playing with a strand of her blonde hair, watching him idly. ‘Urn, yeah. I think we’ll talk science-Forb and me. And I think little Lewys will be there, too. I think Forb thinks we have a laugh.’
‘Quite the happy family, eh?’ Santiago said.
Manolin said, ‘Sorry, San?’
‘I said quiet a happy family, the four of you.’
‘Well, I don’t know about that. It’s just a bit of food anyway.’ Manolin turned to Yana. ‘Is Jefry doing well?’
‘Yes.’ Yana smiled. ‘Yes, I think he’ll be all right. It’s a bit of a shock to all of us I suppose. They’ve been friends for years, haven’t they.’
The Reef Page 18