‘Wouldn’t surprise me,’ Manolin said.
‘You know, we’ll get so much information to sell back at home. So many sketches, maps, diagrams-so many samples to show off. The ship’s getting quite full of arthropod samples. I really think we can make a lot of money from the maps alone.’
They stepped out of the hut, into fresh air, then walked along the beach. Strong winds took away any humidity. It was a day in which work could be done. Santiago turned to Manolin. ‘You going to help us at all?’
‘What d’you mean?’ Manolin said.
‘You’ve been with Forb for most of the last few days. Bit of help wouldn’t go amiss.’ ‘Someone’s got to keep an eye on him,’ Manolin said. ‘Why you? There’re plenty of others.’ ‘Just think I ought to, that’s all. When he wakes up he’s going to want to know what’s been going on. I’ll give him the gossip when he’s ready.’
‘He’ll need to know about Calyban and Soul,’ Santiago said.
‘I think he’ll find out. He’ll be more concerned about whether the navy will come.’
‘Him and me both.’
‘Why’re you so bothered?’ Manolin said.
‘Look, no one’s going to think that Soul shot Calyban and tried to escape. They’ll think I killed him-perish the thought. If that’s the case, then what are the chances of us getting back to Escha and publishing our findings?’
‘I guess so,’ Manolin said, scrutinising Santiago’s words for any hint of a clue as to why he had been acting so suspiciously recently. It was a daily ritual that Santiago would enquire about the doctor’s health, return to the agent’s hut to examine the remains of their relic device, then stare longingly out to sea, regarding the horizon for any hint of a naval vessel.
‘I’ve half an inkling, and deep down it hurts, that we’re not going to be able to show any of our findings publicly. I suspect it’ll all be done behind closed doors, and only to those in the know.’
‘That’s really bad,’ Manolin said.
‘You’re telling me,’ Santiago said. ‘I was rather hoping to finally make myself a celebrity figure ... ‘
‘How’re the others?’ Manolin said. ‘I haven’t really spoken to them for a while.’
‘No. No you haven’t,’ Santiago said. Then, ‘They’re okay, I guess. Soldiering on.’
‘Becq?’
‘Yes, she’s a trooper. Got some cracking sketches. A good eye for detail, that one. Keeps asking after you. Spends a lot of time on her doll.’
‘Doll?’ Manolin said.
‘Yes. You know what girls are like,’ Santiago said, waving his hand dismissively .
Manolin shook his head at Santiago’s belittling attitudes towards women. ‘Yana and Jefry? I see them running around with Lewys and some of the other children from time to time.’
‘Yes. They’re ... they’re coping well.’
Manolin looked at Santiago’s eyes, trying to read them.
‘If coping is the word,’ Santiago said. ‘They’d a lot on their plate. Still have. Complex thing, life.’
‘What d’you mean?’ Manolin said. ‘I know they had a big argument a while back. I wanted to help, but it seemed a bit too much of an issue.’
Santiago looked Manolin up and down. ‘I don’t suppose its worth while going into it. A lot has happened to that couple and they’ve somehow gotten over it. They’re getting along fine now, so let’s leave them be. I don’t think that you would be of any help, lad.’
‘Why d’you always have to patronise me?’
‘I’m not,’ Santiago said.
‘Yes. You are,’ Manolin said. ‘It’s not like I don’t know people, or don’t understand them. I’ve changed since I’ve been here. I can handle things. Make decisions. Help people when they need it. You’ve a nasty habit of belittling me.’
‘I don’t. But remember, I’ve spent much of my life teaching you things, and helping you out. You remember who got you where you are, okay?’
‘I wish you wouldn’t keep coming back with that. It’s all you say when I talk you into a corner.’
‘It’s true though,’ Santiago said. ‘You’d do well to remember that.’
Manolin sighed. Sometimes, he thought, people don’t let go of certain notions. It was pointless talking to Santiago anymore. He turned to the sea, had to shade his eyes because of the glare. ‘I’ll go back to the ichthyocentaurs and study there. I made a start, and I have conversed with the ones that have come to visit the doctor. I’ve come to know one or two of the individuals pretty well. I’d like to get to know them more. I’ve picked up quite a lot of their sign language and I think I’m pretty welcome there.’
‘All right,’ Santiago said. ‘I must say though, I never like my crew fraternising with the natives.’
‘It’s study,’ Manolin said.
‘Indeed.’
Manolin was silent for a moment, listening to the thriving coast, then said, ‘San, do you actually think that the device Calyban and Soul were using actually worked.’
Santiago placed both hands on his hips, shook his head. ‘I’ve no idea. Really. We’ll know in due course. I’ll see you later. Just keep me in the frame with what you’re doing. I take it you’ve been making notes.’ ‘Yes, don’t worry, we’ll have plenty of information you can sell back on the mainland.’
Manolin sat down on the sand, watched Santiago walk off. Then he watched the sea, was hypnotised by the surf. There were fishing boats coming in from out of the sun. He stood up, walked up the beach until he was in the shade, then sat down under a palm. It was cooler and he closed his eyes. The forest behind him was loud with the throng of insects, birds, mammals-an equal to the noise of any city, although more pleasant to his ears. He could feel the sweat on his legs so rolled his breeches up. Then, once the wind had cool him, he fell asleep against the tree.
He woke up an hour later, when Myranda ran up to him.
‘Manolin, he’s awake,’ she said.
‘Yes, just about,’ Manolin said. ‘I fell asleep for a bit. Is it past lunch?’ ‘No, Manolin-Forb is awake.’ ‘Forb?, Manolin jolted up, then stood up, brushed the sand off.
‘Come on, show me.’
He followed Myranda along the beach, into the hut. Forb turned his head towards them as they entered. The doctor’s eyes were narrowed and he closed them occasionally, turning his head so that he was facing up.
Manolin could see the scar on the back of his head. ‘Forb, it’s us. Manolin and Myranda. Can you hear us?’
Forb opened his eyes, sighed, nodded.
‘Good. Good. Do you know what happened?’
Forb opened his mouth and a breath came out. Then, he whispered, ‘Hit the reef.’ ‘Yes, yes you did. You ran into a boat and hurt yourself. Forb can you hear me clearly?’
Forb nodded, closing his eyes.
‘Good. I’ll fetch one of the ichthyocentaurs.’ Manolin turned to Myranda. ‘Will you be all right looking after him for the moment?’ ‘Yes, of course.’ Manolin smiled. ‘I think it’d be nicer for him to wake up and look at you rather than me.’
With kind eyes she turned to Forb.
Manolin returned with two ichthyocentaurs who were both carrying bundles of plants. They set to work on the doctor, fixed him herbal infusions, solid plant matter. Their methods were incredibly efficient. Within hours he was alert enough to converse. Lewys came in to visit, which brought a smile to Forb’s face, and for the evening, Manolin left the family to be alone. He asked the villagers, who were keen to visit the doctor, to respect that thought for the evening.
Manolin, too, wanted to be alone. He spent the evening following the ichthyocentaur up to their village. He wanted to know them and understand their methods. He wanted to know how they knew so much about the medicinal values of plants. What he had seen was incredible. How something could be so effective, so quickly, was astonishing.
For hours he ate and talked amongst them in basic sign language. They asked him if the killings would stop. He said he didn�
�t know. He told them he would try and protect them as best as he could. He thought of the half breeds working under the sea.
Manolin played with the young, listened to the elders, walked with the women. He observed their strange anatomy. Tonight, he wanted to forget about Santiago and the others. It had become a mystery why he was on the island, why he was even studying in the first place. The ichthyocentaurs brought it all back for him: the fact that he wanted to work with nature. That’s why he spent the night there.
Although unlike humans and rumel, they seemed to have social codes, and a vague, basic economy. He was hypnotised by the strange clicking sounds that they used to talk to each other with. Manolin smiled when he saw the ichthyocentaurs holding birds on their shoulders, was surprised that they didn’t flyaway. Between the animals there was a respect that he couldn’t understand. He frowned when he saw a female taking two males somewhere into the forest, then remembered his conversation with Forb about the liberalness of the creatures. Why did he feel the need to really come here? Was it because of their connection with the natural world? Or was it because of the fact he wanted more distance from DeBrelt’s crew. They had become symbols of civilisation, of its problems.
Manolin needed the time to meditate a little. He thought about what Yana and Jefry were doing that day in the forest, wondered what Jefry had done for them to be back together. Did the rumel really knew about him having slept with Yana? That would have explained his anger weeks ago.
It was only when Manolin stopped doing things that he really thought about his own life much. He wanted someone to love him. Or, at the very least, to show some care for him. He felt lonely at times on the island, being far away from the comforts of home, not that there were many -but he was getting used to it. He was getting to an age where he felt he needed to make his career, to settle down. He didn’t want to repeat the bad choices he had already made. He wanted to be sensible, and chose a girl who would not hurt him. Vaguely, his mind drifted to Becq.
She wasn’t all that bad, he thought. She wouldn’t argue much. It would certainly be the rational choice, but he prided himself on not being rational. She would be the settling type. She would not fuck other men in his house.
And that was something to bear in mind.
The next morning, before sunrise, Manolin was ready to walk back down to see Forb. As he was leaving, one of the ichthyocentaurs stopped him, handed him a small leaf package. He opened it to see a crushed blue plant. He’ll need this, the ichthyocentaur signed.
Manolin nodded, headed down to the beach.
As he entered the hut, Santiago trotted up the steps behind. ‘Ah, I hear the patient has recovered.’ ‘Yes, I’m popping to see how he is.’ ‘Where were you last night then?’ ‘Up at the ichthyocentaurs’ village,’ Manolin said. ‘Any reason?’ Santiago said. ‘Just wanted to get to know them. You know, really understand them, not from a purely scientific view.’
‘Fair enough,’ Santiago said.
They walked inside.
Forb was sat up on the bed. ‘Ah, Manolin, Santiago.’
‘Hey, Forb,’ Manolin said.
‘Doc,’ Santiago said.
‘I seem to have been away for a bit,’ Forb said, laughing. ‘I apologise for not being a better host.’
Manolin thought he sounded weak despite his light-heartedness. ‘I’ll forgive you. Just don’t let it happen again.’ Then, ‘How’re you feeling?’
‘So, so. Been better, obviously. So, tell me what happened then?’
‘You crashed into Soul’s boat as he was trying to leave the island,’ Manolin said.
‘Did I get him?’
‘We reckon so,’ Santiago said. ‘Calyban and Soul had some sort of fight in the night. Soul shot Calyban and tried to flee.’
‘Really?’ Forb frowned. ‘That’s odd. Why would he shoot him?’
‘Who knows?’ Santiago said. ‘Disagreement probably. Anyway, they were trying to send a message, if you remember?’
‘Hmm. I think so,’ Forb said. ‘Can’t really remember all of it.’
‘Well, you stopped any definite message getting out, by running into Soul,’ Santiago said. Forb blinked. ‘Well that’s something.’ ‘Here-’ Manolin handed over the plant package. ‘I spent last night with the ichthyocentaurs. As I left one gave me this.’
‘Oh.’ Forb took the package, unwrapped it. His face darkened.
‘Not what you expected?’ Manolin said. ‘Forb?’
‘Urn, yes ... Yes. Thank you.’
Manolin looked over to Santiago. ‘If you fancy some rest, then we can leave you to it.’ ‘Thanks. Oh, Manolin. Can I have a quick word?’ ‘Sure.’ He turned to Santiago. ‘I’ll be out in a second.’ Santiago nodded, and left the room. ‘Manolin, was I given any of this whilst I was unconscious?’ ‘Urn, let me have a look.’ Manolin leaned in closer. ‘No, definitely not anything that colour. I think they tried, but you couldn’t swallow.’
Forb sat back, closed his eyes, sighed.
‘Why?’ Manolin asked. ‘Is everything all right?’
‘Remember a while ago I told you about a plant that the ichthyocentaurs had found for me?’ His eyes were still closed. A greater level of pain was displayed on his face during the discussion of this subject.
‘The one you needed?’
‘Yes, well this is it.’
‘Oh,’ Manolin said.
‘And I haven’t been taking it,’ Forb said.
‘Oh. That’s ... ‘
‘Not good,’ Forb said. ‘Not good at all.’ He opened his eyes, turned to Manolin. Then he reached over and picked up Manolin’s hand.
Manolin felt uncomfortable with the gesture. He looked down at the hands and to his left, before he could look Forb in the eye. The doctor was smiling.
Manolin thought it a strange smile, like that of an old man who had just realised he’d been doing the wrong thing all his life, or had been tricked by an old enemy. It was the least happy smile that Manolin had ever seen.
‘I’ll leave you to think for a while,’ Manolin said. Forb nodded. ‘Oh, one last thing. Have any more ichthyocentaurs been killed since I’ve been here?’
‘No. None at all. Perhaps our trip down there scared them off, what with the electric shocks.’
‘Perhaps.’
Manolin pulled his hand free, carefully, then left the hut. He had a strange feeling in his chest. As he passed, Myranda and Lewys walked in.
Manolin smiled as he could hear the doctor greeting his son loudly, maintaining a positive air. It took him some moments to contemplate the significance of what Forb was really getting at. Was he dying quickly because of not taking the remedies? It saddened Manolin to think this way. Bonds had formed between the two of them.
He stepped towards the beach to think about the doctor. As he was staring out to the pale horizon, squinting, Becq tapped him on his shoulder.
‘Hey,’ he said. ‘How’s things?’
‘Good, good,’ she said. ‘Look, I found some really sweet fruits on the south of the island. Want to come and see?’ ‘Sure, why not.’ The two walked along the beach around the island. There were a couple of cirrus clouds, thin and pale. It was getting warmer.
‘You lonely here?’ she asked.
‘Lonely?’ he said. ‘A little. It’s quiet here. Forces you to look at yourself. That can make you uncomfortable, I guess. Not so much a loneliness in that respect.’
She nodded. ‘Not many people do that.’
‘Nope, especially back at home. You don’t get the chance to.’
‘Or, people don’t want to,’ she said.
‘Possibly,’ Manolin said.
‘Look, I know it’s probably out of line asking you, Manolin, but I know you had a few personal problems when you left Escha.’ Manolin was silent. ‘You had a fight with your wife, didn’t you? How do you feel now?’
Manolin sighed, stepping the other side of Becq so that he was in the shade from the forest. ‘How do I feel? I think the distance hel
ps. There’re no reminders-you know, places you visit, bars you go out to. Nothing to remind me of her. I think I’m less angry, too. Again, the distance.’
‘Will you see her when you get back?’
‘I’ve never really thought about it. I don’t know. Possibly. I don’t want to anyway.’ ‘She hurt you, didn’t she?’ Manolin smiled. ‘Yeah, something like that.’ Then, ‘It was good to make that mistake at a young age. At least I won’t do it again in a hurry. Or, knowing me, I will.’
Becq was playing with strands of her blonde hair. ‘We should all go for some drinks when we get back. Celebrate returning with a clean slate. I think a lot of us feel changed the last few months. I reckon we all feel put right somehow.’
‘Really? How’ve you changed?’
‘Well, I feel more confident here. I feel more sensual. Yana’s the same. It just makes you more sure of yourself, you know? Anyway, things move too fast in Escha. People don’t stop and talk. There’s no choice here-you’ve got to talk. It’s pretty rude otherwise.’
‘True. Your dad’s changed a bit. I’m not sure if he’s become more tense or something.’
‘I know what you mean. He’s ignored me most of my life. Guess you never really see that side of him. I think he would’ve preferred a son. But, he seems tenser these days. He snaps more.’
‘Maybe he doesn’t like us youngsters.’
Becq laughed. ‘I think you’ve changed, too.’
‘How so?’
‘You seem calmer. More assertive.’
‘Not having a psycho wife does that to you.’
‘I guess so,’ Becq said. ‘But really, you seem more aware and tolerant-not that you weren’t before. I feel I can talk with you more.’
‘Well, that’s a good thing, I suppose.’
Becq was silent for a moment. ‘Manny, what was that thing you all saw? Ever since my dad was down there, he’s been different.’
After she said the question, Manolin realised that she had been working up the nerve to pry. The secret of what lay underwater burned away. ‘I wish I knew, Becq. I wish I knew.’
‘No one’s said anything about it since then,’ she said. ‘I asked him and he continued as if I’d never asked the question.’ She stopped at looked across the fringe of the forest. ‘We’re here. Ah, here’s the tree.’
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