John Ringo - Council Wars 02 - Emerald Sea

by Emerald Sea(lit)

  "No help there," Pete said. "All these islands are limestone built up from coral; the nearest volcanic activity is nearly a thousand klicks from here."

  "Just as well," Herzer said. "I'd rather be cold than have a tsunami."

  "I can think of a way to warm you up," Bast said.

  "I'm sure you can," Herzer replied with a grin.

  "But I'm going to go play with the dragons," Bast said, reaching into the pouch at her hip and pulling out a breath mask and a set of fins.

  "Where did those come from?" Herzer asked. He knew that Edmund only had four sets and they were all being used; he had his set rolled up and tucked into a pocket of his bathing shorts.

  "My pouch?" Bast replied. "I was coming to the islands. I can't breathe water. Of course I brought gear." With that she dropped her gear, took her clothes off, put the mask on, picked up the fins and waded into the water.

  "Can someone please explain who she is to me?" Jerry asked.

  "She's... Bast," Herzer replied.

  "That's not much of an answer," Vickie said acerbically. "She's an elf? I thought they were, you know, tall and lean and handsome. Not small and pretty and dressed like a character in an anime cartoon."

  "She's a wood elf," Herzer replied. "They were created around the time of the AI wars. She was created around the time of the AI wars."

  "Crap," Jerry said. "How old is she?"

  "Physically? About two thousand years old," Herzer replied. "Mentally? Somewhere between twelve and two thousand. She told me one time that elves are too happy to spend much time grieving. Given that she's seen thousands of human friends die over the years, I guess that's not a bad way to handle it. As to caring about societal conventions, like not stripping in front of a bunch of people, she's going to outlive them all and their conventions. She just... well, you've seen. Hell, just wait; that's nothing."

  "I can't wait until she meets Bruce," Pete chuckled.

  "Why?"

  "Bruce is... not a bad guy," Pete said. "He's held us together and nobody's starved; not even the young and the old. Really, he's done pretty well, given everything that's going on. But... he can be a little... stuffy."

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Edmund, trailed by Daneh and Rachel, followed the mer-folk deeper into the ocean and to the east. They stayed about seven meters below the surface while the bottom sloped steeply downward.

  Half way to the "village" Jason let out a grunt and headed downward. He poked in a crevice with his spear, then twisted it and pulled out a lobster nearly the size of his thigh. He wrung the head off and dropped it to the bottom, swimming back up to the group and turning his catch over to one of the bearers.

  "It's been a bad day of fishing," he lamented. "We'd been in this area not long ago and most of the easy fish are already hunted out. We're having to go further and further afield to find anything edible."

  "Why don't you just move someplace else?" Edmund asked.

  "We're not entirely without possessions," Jason said. "So just picking up and moving is not an easy proposition; we only do it if it's necessary. And this area has some features that we find necessary for our survival these days."

  "What?" Talbot asked. But he received no reply.

  "I've got a net with me," Edmund pointed out after he was sure the mer wasn't going to answer.

  "Wait to show it to Bruce," Jason said. He turned to the landsman and pitched his voice lower. "You're liable to find a cold reception; Bruce doesn't care about anything but the Work." The capital was clear.

  "Repairing the reefs?" Edmund asked, looking around. They looked in fine shape to him. Billions of fish were swimming across them and sea-fans waved in every direction. "I'd think keeping his people fed would be his first job."

  "Mostly he agrees," Jason admitted. "But he doesn't want to have outsiders involved with us. He thinks that if we just lay low, the war will pass over us and we can just continue with the Work."

  "And what do you think?" Edmund asked.

  There was a long pause before Jason shrugged.

  "He's the chosen leader of our people and it's not my job to speak against him, certainly not to outsiders."

  "What about to New Destiny?" Edmund asked.

  "New Destiny considers the mer to be abominations," Jason said, bitterly. "Let's just say that I disagree."

  "So do I," Talbot said with a nod. "And, speaking from past experience, New Destiny tends to spread its feelings far and wide."

  "Well, from all reports New Destiny is winning," Jason said.

  "Reports are often wrong," the duke replied. "They've never won anywhere that I've had a hand."

  "You're only one man."

  "True, but I said 'had a hand.' Herzer is, often, my hand."

  Jason bleated something that the computer changed to a tuneless chuckle.

  "I suspect that being your hand is probably where he lost his. Well, Edmund Talbot, who never fails, welcome to Whale Point Drop mer-town."

  The town spread out before them was larger than Edmund had expected. The area of reef had deep crevices gouged through it, generally trending from the shore to the deeps. In the center the crevices came together into an open sandy area with a prominent coral head in the middle. And the area swarmed with mer.

  There were mer-men and mer-maids as well as children, although none of the latter were less than a year or two old. Edmund noticed that the mer-maids were just as naked in the upper regions as the mer-men and tried to keep his eyes away from the display of, in the main, perfect breasts.

  In the open area, he could only think of it as the village square, the mer were especially thick. Some of them had food for trade, others had handmade goods. But the pickings were slim; there was far more communicating going on than trading. At the sight of the hunting party, many of the people swarmed upwards, but there was obvious distress at the shortage of food they were bringing back. There was also a great deal of surprise at the visitors. The computer picked out the words "Freedom Coalition" but the rest was apparently a jumble.

  Jason tugged Edmund through the crowd and down to near the bottom where a group was floating, arguing about something. The argument stopped as they neared and the group saw that Jason had a visitor.

  "General Edmund Talbot," Jason said, gesturing at one of the mer, "Bruce the Black."

  Edmund nodded at the mer and smiled.

  "I've come a long way to see you," Edmund said.

  "And for no good reason," Bruce returned, brusquely. "We're entering no agreements with anyone; we've enough troubles of our own without bringing others down on us."

  "Well, there are some troubles we can help with," Edmund said, opening up the heavy package and letting fall the edge of the net. "This is a woven monomolecular net. There's nothing on earth that can break it and it will last far longer than you'll live. I've others coming on a ship, not woven mono, but made of good, sturdy cosilk. Those will last for nearly a generation and are, admittedly, easier to fix."

  "Gill net," Bruce said. The AI gave it as toneless but it was clearly a spit of sound. "Great for randomly picking up innocent, and many of them inedible, fish. Very much what we need."

  "Bruce," Jason interjected. "We weren't able to get more than a couple of hogs and a few damned crayfish. We're starving. A gill net is what we need!"

  "Why? To strip the damned reefs again?" the leader replied hotly. "Woven monomolecule! What happens when it gets caught? You won't be able to cut it, you'll have to tear the reef itself! And what happens when a dolphin gets caught in it? It'll drown while you're off gallivanting!"

  "Gallivanting is it?" Jason replied. "I don't see you bringing in any fish!"

  "There's sea plum," the mer-leader replied.

  "There's always bloody sea plum," one of the group behind him said.

  "You've come on a fool's errand," the leader repeated. "You might as well go back. We've nothing for you, and you've got nothing for us."

  "Well, I'll leave you the net," Edmund said. "And we have to stay
in the area for a few days; our transportation is having to sail around the banks."

  "How did you get here, then?" one of the group asked.

  "On dragon-back," Jason replied to a series of clicks. "Pete went with them down the coast to fish."

  "The dragons were fishing?" Bruce asked.

  "They can swim," Edmund said.

  "Mister Black," Daneh interjected. "I'm Daneh Ghorbani and this is my daughter Rachel. I'd like to at least see how you are surviving and how you are doing it. We've had hard times as well and I'd like to see if you have anything that you're doing that we can pick up. We might have a few new ideas to share as well."

  Bruce considered that for a moment, then shrugged.

  "I can't exactly kick you out," he said, finally. "But I'm not going to join any alliances. Not with you, not with New Destiny."

  "Especially with New Destiny," someone behind Edmund said.

  "New Destiny isn't so bad," a black-haired mer-man said, pushing to the front of the crowd. He was one of the largest of the mer and even compared to the crowd around him heavy-set.

  "New Destiny considers all Changed to be abominations," Edmund replied. "How can they not be bad for the mer?"

  "If they consider all Change to be abominations," the mer-man asked, "how come they're Changing their own people?"

  "Edmund Talbot," Bruce said with a sigh. "This is Mosur."

  "Well, Mosur," Edmund replied, just as reasonably. "There's a broad difference, that most people grasp, between being voluntarily Changed into whatever you choose, versus being turned, against your will, into an orc. They've Changed most of the population of Ropasa against their will. I've seen the results and, trust me, you don't want that happening to you."

  "How do you know it's against their will?" the mer replied, angrily. "Have you known someone who was Changed the way that you describe? And let me give a more accurate description, one less filled with malice. They are Changed so that they are tougher and more able to withstand the strain of the post-Fall world. Stronger, tougher and knowing how to survive. I think that counts for something. Most of the population of Ropasa has survived. They're not living on the ragged edge of starvation."

  "You don't look starving to me," Edmund said to a general laugh.

  "One's the same as the other," Bruce said, loudly. "They'll fight each other and they'll both lose."

  "You'd best hope so," Edmund replied, sadly. "That we both lose. Because while we won't have any issue with you sitting things out, New Destiny will. And if we lose they'll come looking for you."

  There was a mutter of agreement and Edmund noticed for the first time that there were delphinos at the edge of the crowd. They weren't entering the discussion, just observing and trading apparently carefully aimed sonar bursts with each other.

  "So we have your permission to look around?" Edmund asked.

  "It's a free ocean," Bruce said. "It's a free town. That's the point. Look around all you want. But you won't find me changing my mind."

  "I understand," Edmund said, sadly.

  "Where are you staying?" Bruce asked, suddenly. "Not down here, it's too cold for you."

  "You'd be surprised what I can do," Edmund replied. "But we'll be staying up on the land. We landed near the lighthouse; the others will be meeting us there."

  "The lighthouse?" Bruce challenged. "Why by the lighthouse?"

  "Because it's a landmark," Edmund said, shaking his head. "Look, can I talk to you a moment?" He looked around. "Alone?"

  Bruce nodded his assent and they swam across the square to an out-of-the-way alcove while the rest of the mer swarmed around Daneh and Rachel, and Jason spread out the net on the bottom.

  "What is up by the lighthouse?" Edmund asked.

  "Nothing," Bruce answered hotly. "Why are you asking?"

  "Because while you've been sweetness and light about everything else, that really cut to the bone and I'm wondering why." He held up his hand to forestall a reply and shook his head. "Look, you probably are the kind of person who hates diplomats and diplomacy. If you even remember what they are..."

  "I do," Bruce said, tightly. "I've studied history. That's why I'm trying to keep us out of this war."

  "Fine," Edmund replied. "But the point is, the reason that they wore poker faces all the time was that they had things they didn't want to give away. Now, you've got something, something important, up near the lighthouse. I'm not going to investigate what that is. I'm hoping I don't even stumble across it. But the New Destiny folks, if they find out, will pry until they know what it is. And if they can, they'll use it against you."

  "But you wouldn't?" Bruce asked. "The Freedom Coalition hasn't done anything to be ashamed of in this war?"

  "No, we probably have," Edmund admitted. "But there's a world of difference between what we're doing and what New Destiny is doing. There's a huge difference between accidental deaths in combat, or a few soldiers out of hand and dealt with swiftly and surely, versus intentional atrocities and Changed orcs that are nothing but 'out of hand.' There's a difference between accident and intent. And the point I'm trying to make is don't make the same mistake you just made with me around them. Or whatever it is you're trying to hide, they'll hang around your neck like a dead albatross."

  "I'll keep that in mind," Bruce said. "But you keep this in mind. We're not taking the mer off to war. We have important work to do here. And we're going to continue it."

  "Oh, don't worry," Edmund said. "I have that. Chapter and verse."

  * * *

  Edmund had gotten into a discussion with one of the tool makers while Daneh had been dragged off to see one of the mer's casualties. This left Rachel to be dragged off by Jason.

  They went down one of the narrow crevices to where it turned into a tunnel. About a dozen feet in there was a brief break in the overhead and in the sunlight was a young mer-maid plaiting a twisted cord.

  "Antja, this is Rachel Ghorbani," Jason said.

  The mer-maid dropped the material and drifted towards the entrance, smiling.

  "Welcome," she said. "There's not much to offer, but if you'd care for some sea plum?"

  "I don't know," Rachel said. "I've never had sea plum before." Her stomach rumbled and she realized that it had been quite a few hours since she had eaten.

  Antja went to one of the crevices along the wall and pulled down some plum-sized fruits with a suspiciously familiar appearance. Rachel took one and then paused as she realized she was wearing a full-head covering. She frowned, then pulled the mask out allowing the water to strike her face for the first time. She took a bite of the fruit and recognized the taste. She carefully put the mask back on, sealing it down, and took a breath, relieved that it hadn't taken any hurt from its submersion.

  "I'd never heard it called sea plum," Rachel said. "But I recognize it; it's kudzi."

  "What's kudzi?" Antja asked.

  "There was once a noxious vine called kudzu that covered all sorts of areas in Norau," Rachel said. "A long, long time ago, someone released a retrovirus on it and forced it to produce fruits. The fruit is a cross between kiwi fruit and strawberry with a plum skin. Tasty, but it gets tiring. Where do you find it?"

  "Anywhere that there's a fresh-water outlet," Jason answered. "Like the spring on the island. In the brackish area around it, there's lots of sea plum. It's got some good points, fish like to nest in it and it doesn't really push anything out of the niche. And it produces sea plum. But, yes, it does get tiresome."

  "Unfortunately that's about all that we have right now," Antja said. "Unless... ?"

  "We didn't get much," Jason admitted, sadly.

  "Well, maybe Herzer and his group will bring something back?" Rachel asked.

  "Who's Herzer?" Antja said.

  * * *

  After about an hour of fishing the dragons came up out of the water, the wyverns shivering with cold but burbling happily to each other. Two of them were carrying large fish in their mouths and they carried them to shore and dropped them, s
till flopping, at the feet of the riders. After that they all gathered around the fire, their wings spread, and soaked up the heat happily as their riders dabbed at under-spots.

  Pete, once given a decent knife to work with, turned out to be one damned fine filleter and in minutes the fish were trussed up and sizzling over the fire.

  "What I couldn't do with a little orange sauce," Pete complained as the fish were served on broad leaves. He had dragged himself up on the shore to direct the cooking and shook his head at the fumble-fingered grilling of the riders. When the fish was done he took a bite of one and then shrugged. "I guess it's better than what we've been eating; sea plum and sushi without wasabi."