by Caney, Mark
To life! And here he was using that training to choose death!
The desire suddenly grew again and panic gripped him for a moment. With a major effort he suppressed it and levelled out his attention in his upper consciousness, ignoring the instinctive need for air. Remembering: Does your body serve your mind, or control it? According to his training he probed out to the edges of his mind and noted the areas of encroaching shadow at its limits, closing in on his awareness.
His mind was dimming now but a small thought formed and hardened and filled what was left of his consciousness.
Very well, I’ll try to come back. I’ll try but I really don’t know if I can now. I am very deep in the darkness and the Cleaner is hungry for me.
With a great effort he began to swim upwards. His body seemed terribly slow to respond and his reserves of oxygen were very low. The darkness did not seem to alter and his body’s demand grew again, hurling itself against the fragile shell of his self control.
I am not rising. I am too heavy. I am sinking. I will die here.
He kept swimming, his mind on the edge of unconsciousness. He was no longer sure he was swimming at all. But he had tried. He had tried so hard.
It was still dark. He must be sinking. Must keep swimming.
He thought that the water was lightening and he felt a momentary glimmer of hope. But the surface was still so far away! He would never make it! Panic began to crack the shell and he started finning hard, wasting valuable oxygen.
Panic and die, panic and die, servant or controller?
He forced himself to swim steadily, to keep his oxygen needs to a minimum, to preserve what remained for his mind. The Shades changed.
Duty.
Choices.
Changes, duty, life.
The water was much lighter now but his consciousness was darkening. He could make out the surface of the water but not tell if he was moving towards it anymore. The shadows in his mind grew closer, tighter, around his flickering core of consciousness. He realised that he had stopped finning but could not force himself to start again. It seemed much less important now anyway. He felt himself losing consciousness and falling back into the depths of his own subconsciousness.
I’ll just sleep for a little while...
A tiny, distant spark of awareness awoke him for a moment and he struggled to remember what it meant. A message from his body, something small but seemingly important. He tiredly tried to concentrate for a moment then recognised the sensation — a wave was lapping across his back, his body was rolling gently at the surface. Yes, he thought he recognised it now but it was too hard to do anything about it. He relaxed again and began to sink into the reassuring embrace of unconsciousness once more.
Breathe. Breathe. Breathe now or she will take you down again. Yes, that was it, that was what he was meant to do, he should take some air. It seemed very hard and very far away, but he sent the message to his body. He had no idea if the message arrived, he was left in a tiny glimmer of consciousness for what seemed an incredibly long time. The blackness of the rest of his mind, his body, everything — it spread in all directions forever. Then, shockingly, a white light exploded in his head and he convulsed as his body tried to expel the water he had taken into his lungs. Awareness returned suddenly and painfully as he shook in spasms.
After a long time he regained control but felt weak and nauseous. His lungs hurt. His head hurt terribly.
I’m still alive.
He marvelled at this.
He paused, wondering where to go. He did not want to go back to the coast where his old clan was; he had to avoid them. He had to find a place where there were no other clans. Then he remembered that there were two small islands far off the coast opposite the bay where the Dune Coast Clan had been staying. He had never heard of any other clans being resident there. The sun was still clearly visible so he used that for orientation and started to slowly swim in the right direction. He would begin his new life there.
Chapter 38
“Spend time enough alone and passing jellyfish will appear erudite companions.”
- Three Standing Shells (13,282 - 13,325 post Great Alluvium)
The rugged coastline of the more westerly of the two islands appeared first. He had known that they must be in that direction for some time; in an otherwise clear blue sky, there were dense balls of cumulus cloud over the islands, and as he had drawn nearer, seabirds had started to appear. He had even passed a floating coconut that must have fallen from one of the islands’ many palm trees.
The wind was light, but there was a large, slow swell running towards the islands. When he surfaced in the valleys between the lazily lifting hills of water there was no horizon, but from the peaks he could make out the land clearly. The middle of the island he was approaching had white sandy beaches fringed with palms, but the headlands were rocky cliffs. Against these, the swells crashed and subsided, causing great plumes of white to rise high in the air as each rolling wave collided with the rock.
As he got closer, he picked up the bottom with his sonar, soon after he could see it; for the first time in many days. Now the bottom shelved upwards and he was once more in the familiar environment of a coastal zone with its many territorial inhabitants. Sky followed the shoreline parallel with the beach. The bottom was fairly level here with infrequent coral heads. The Shades were ambiguous, somewhere between Sciaa and Sciaa-chon. Towards the familiar, regressing or stasis, middle. They made no sense so he ignored them. He looked around for something to eat, he had found a few fish in the deep ocean but pickings were lean out there and he was still weak with hunger. Then he rounded a coral head and almost swam into a tight shoal of small Jacks. They panicked when they realised he was hunting and the shoal split in an explosion of silver bodies. He was just faster though and took two of them. They made good, sweet eating. A welcome change: he had not recognised one of the thin fish he had caught out in the deep sea and it had been full of sharp spines and unsatisfying. Now he was back amongst creatures he knew. He could survive here.
He carried on his exploration of the coastline, feeling much better. The water clarity was reasonable but he could still see further with echolocation so he used it frequently. It showed him the continuing scenery of coral heads interspersed with sand patches opening up ahead of him. The hard rock and coral reflected sound much better than the sand and so were quite distinct to him. He could even distinguish the soft bodies of the larger soft corals and sponges against the hard rock. He could make out the larger individual fish, and the shoals of smaller ones. Sometimes he could even guess what species they were — that disciplined shoal of long bodied fish he could make out: probably young barracuda, hunting for small prey.
Then his attention was fixed. He sensed something in the distance that was distinct from its surroundings. The sonar image was of a large creature lying on the bottom. Its bulk meant it must be a dolphin or similarly sized shark, but it was quite still. He drew closer until he could see it. Yes, it was a dolphin. An elderly male, laying on his front on an area that was almost entirely sand, apart from a single small lump of coral just in front of his head. He looked somehow different to the other bottlenose dolphins to Sky. His back was a darker grey, his belly white but had many grey spots. Sky thought he must be dead, but he resisted the temptation to use sonar to scan him for a heart beat in case he was not. It was considered very rude in dolphin society to scan someone internally without permission. Instead, he announced himself: ‘It is I, Touches The Sky!’ He paused, awkwardly. When meeting a stranger from another clan it would be normal etiquette for him to also add “of the Dune Coast Clan” but he could not do that any more. He had no clan.
He drew closer to the recumbent form’s left side. It had not moved. He could see that there was a curious, almost circular scar on the old dolphin’s forehead, and then realised that his left eye was missing; the socket a mass of old scar tissue. Growing more certain that this dolphin was dead he went around to its right side and mov
ed in so that his rostrum was almost touching its side. The eye on this side appeared to be uninjured, but it was closed. Sky started an internal scan. The eye snapped open.
‘Do you mind!’
‘I’m so sorry; I thought you must be dead!’
‘Not the last time i checked!’ He spoke with a gruff voice and had odd, accented speech. The old dolphin roused himself from the sand and shook himself.
‘I really am terribly sorry. My name is Touches The Sky, of the…um…’ Sky trailed off, hoping the other would now introduce himself quickly and cover his embarrassment.
‘Why are you here?’ the one-eyed dolphin barked at him.
‘I’m just exploring — looking for food.’
‘Are you a scout? Is there a clan behind you coming to eat all that’s left here?
‘No, just me. What were you doing just now?’
The old dolphin stared at him for a long moment, his eye half closed. ‘i was watching that coral growing. Goodbye now.’
He started to swim off. Sky noticed something else odd about his manner of speech apart from the accent (and rudeness). He used the diminutive form of “I” which was only normally used by young dolphins prior to their naming ceremony. Sky had never heard an adult do that before. He followed after him, calling, ‘I am Touches The Sky, I’m sorry but I did not get your name...’
The old dolphin stopped and turned his good eye towards Sky. ‘You still here?’
‘Well, yes, and I was wondering what I should call you?’
The old dolphin looked at Sky as though he was demented.
‘Call? Name?’ He drove his beak into the bottom and flicked up a cloud of sand. ‘What do you call that?’
‘Um, sand,’ Sky replied slowly, unsure of his meaning.
The other waited a moment as the sand fell, then deftly caught one grain on the tip of his rostrum. ‘And what do you call that?’
‘A grain of sand of course’
‘Just that? No special name for this one?’
‘No, of course not.’
‘What about all the others i just threw up?’
‘Grains of sand, that’s all.’
‘And all these others,’ he gestured around him at the sandy bottom, ‘up to the beach, around this island, in all Ocean, none have their own names?’
‘No, you can’t give names to every single thing, they are just…just part of Ocean.’
‘Have you ever heard of what many like to call the Way?’
‘Of course! I am…I was a Novice for years, I studied it every day.’
‘A Novice! Ha! Amazing! And what did they teach you was the ultimate goal of your studies?’
‘To reach the first level of consciousness. To be at one with the Universal. An indistinguishable part of Ocean.’
‘Yes, yes, quite. “Become a zeta without a shadow”. And how are you going to cope with being an indistinguishable part of everything, when you insist on trying to have a name for each separate part you see?’ He swam off again towards the shore. The conversation was apparently over.
Sky watched him disappear into the distance, baffled. It seemed the old dolphin had no name, or none that he would give. And what was he talking about? Sky had once met a dolphin with a parasitic worm infestation in his brain. It had been too late for the Healers to help him and he had gone slowly mad before dying. Was this old one-eyed dolphin mad? Or did he truly have some insight into the first level of consciousness? He was intrigued. Where had he come from? He looked and sounded different from any dolphin Sky had ever met before. Maybe he was just mad. Or maybe he could learn something from him. Either way Sky could not think of anything better to do than follow him. Where else could he go?
Chapter 39
“That careless selfish deed
Made now at time of need
There’s a lifetime to regret
And no means to forget.”
- River Now Dry (13,108 – 13,127 post Great Alluvium)
A tropical downpour flattened the slate grey waters of the Dune Coast Clan’s bay. From below, the surface danced in the hammering fall and the thin layer of fresh rainwater seemed to mix reluctantly with the sea, as though it tired of this endless cycle. A few of the children made small leaps, but the low clouds and rain seemed to keep even them pressed down into the waters.
Fades Into Dusk too, felt crushed by the dark sky as she made her way into the shallows. She was supposed to be looking after some of the young ones this morning and she was dreading it. Normally she would have enjoyed this task, but they would expect her to be bright and cheerful and she felt nothing like that. In the few days since Sky’s exile she had just felt empty. At first, she had been very afraid too; afraid that her secret must be found out and that she would be forced to leave. But now she knew that Sky had told no one; he had saved her. So her fear had ebbed, only to be replaced by a creeping, insidious flood of guilt that seemed to be drowning her.
She greeted the female who had been looking after the five young dolphins. She was pleased to be relieved and ready to go hunting. Dusk approached her charges who were looking morose and bored. Bellatrix Unseen spoke first:
‘Fades Into Dusk-Jeii will you tell us a story?’
‘Yes,’ the others chanted, ‘Story! Story! Story!’
‘I’m not sure I’m in the best mood for story telling. Why don’t you all do that dance again you did at the Gathering? The starfish one — that was so nice.’
Lost In Moonlight looked petulant. ‘We’ve done it so many times we’re bored with it. If you won’t tell us a story can we go over to the eastern beach? There’s supposed to be a Narrator still there.’
Dusk considered this. The Narrators were lone dolphins that moved from clan to clan relaying news and telling stories. Mostly these were traditional tales but the better Narrators could improvise very well. They often appeared at Gatherings.
‘Alright then. But we’ll have to be back here by half-post noon.’
The children cheered and made leaps of joy. They all adored hearing stories and here was the chance to hear some new ones.
She led them across to the bay. The rain had stopped now and a promise of blue sky appeared on the eastern horizon. In the shallows they found the Narrator, an ageing male with a slightly twisted lower jaw. It looked as though it may have been broken once Dusk thought, and he had several missing teeth there. She exchanged greetings with him and he smiled and made faces at the children.
He spoke to them with a deep, rich voice, opening his eyes dramatically as he did so: ‘And what can I do for you then, my little ones?’
‘A story please!’
‘Of course! Any favourites?’
This led to a heated debate. Some wanted something new, others had firm favourites. The Narrator glanced in amusement at Dusk. She tilted her head as a shrug in reply, so he broke into the children’s squabbling.
‘Wait, wait, look here!’ They gathered around him and he pointed with his rostrum at an isolated rock in the sand. The long black spines of a sea urchin responded to his nearness by waving defensively. Also on the rock, was a small hermit crab, this one living in a discarded whelk shell. It was busy foraging along the edge of the rock but it suddenly realised it was surrounded by the dolphins and froze. It wiped one eye nervously and stared back at them timidly.
‘Little Una-Pi,’ the Narrator said quietly, looking at it. ‘She didn’t always have to find discarded shells to live in you know. Not until, that is, she made the mistake of lying to Senx.’
He looked back at his audience, a question in his eyes. Without a word they arranged themselves quietly in a circle around him, lying on their bellies on the sandy bottom. The gentle swell rocked them back and forth as the Narrator began.
‘Long, long ago, it happened. Long before the massive waters of the Great Alluvium rushed from the land when the great ice walls fell. Even before the Ka-Tse had learned to weave their stories into the stars. Ocean was a different place then. The animals were very d
ifferent from today. One you might have seen but not recognised was Una-Pi. You see, in those days, Una-Pi, grew her own shell to protect herself like other crabs.’
The Narrator then gestured towards the Sea Urchin. Dusk noticed that the spiny black ball was edging itself around the rock now, apparently uncomfortable with the presence of so much attention. The Narrator continued:
‘Ned-Lah were very different then too. At that time they had no spines at all, their bodies were quite smooth and white. But stranger still was Eightarms. Now you all know what he looks like today, his supple body and his clever eyes, hiding in the rocks except when he comes out to hunt at night. In those days he never hid. That’s right — in those days, Eightarms lived in a most beautiful shell and he floated gracefully about Ocean’s waters in it, swimming free.
Now although Una-Pi had a shell in those times, it was a fairly dull brown sort of crab shell. She would often say to her good friend Ned-Lah, “Look at the beautiful shell that Eightarms has, floating so high above us as though he is better than us. We deserve more than this.” In truth, Ned-Lah did not much care; he was quite happy with his smooth white body. But Una-Pi coveted Eightarms’ wonderful shell. It was so light and so delicate, with many exquisitely formed chambers. More, all of the colours of the rainbow could be seen in it as Eightarms drifted past.
One day Una-Pi called to Eightarms and said, “You are so beautiful and full of grace, I have composed a song for you.”
Of course he was flattered and drew close to her. She began to sing very well, a soft, soothing song that gently rose and fell like a lazy wave on the sea. She sang softer still and he drew nearer to hear. She reached up with her claws and rocked his shell in time with her music and soon his eyes closed. Una-Pi sang and rocked and rocked and sang and soon Eightarms was in the deepest of sleeps. Then that devious crab carefully lifted his sleeping body out of the shell and gently laid him on the ground. Then she cast aside her drab crab armour and slipped her naked body inside that lovely shell. She felt so proud! And off she stalked in her new shell, leaving the poor Eightarms asleep on the sand.