How six saved the frogs, p.26
How Six Saved the Frogs, page 26
Morning came fast and loud. No alarm needed with bani clucking him awake. Nif among them, explaining roofs to curious kids. While it wasn’t completely accurate, Wouter admired the way Nif used a variety of leaves to illustrate his story. When Wouter rolled over and sat up—making sure he didn’t roll over Pim—some of the kids took that as permission to join him, their skin flashing excitement as they pointed at the rescue blanket.
It was too much. Too loud. Even if the kids’ enthusiasm made him smile. He rose and went searching for quiet. What he found was Jack and Sop sitting near the stream, chatting. Well, Sop clucked away, and Jack merely nodded now and then. But it was better than their awkward silence. Wouter didn’t want to intrude, and found a tree with low-hanging leaves to shelter beneath until it was time to pack up and go.
The rain held until their midday rest, but wasn’t chilly or heavy enough to pose a problem for the bani. Thanks to the high-grade material of his shirt and shorts, they weren’t as soaked as his own clothes would be. Maybe he should ask if he could keep them.
With Jack and Sop talking again, and no rain or storms predicted, Jack seemed less anxious, more alert. With every step closer to their winter habitat, the bani’s stories about their fallen took on a lighter, happier note, and the landscape changed. Differently shaped leaves, paler, thicker trunks, greens that veered towards blue-green, more flyers. And curly heather made way for rocky paths. It gave the forest a wintery atmosphere, despite the days becoming warmer again. If not as muggy.
They found a new rhythm, renewed energy, and with every rest, their anticipation of reaching their winter habitat built. And stories about their stays there mixed with those of their fallen. It gave Wouter a sense of coming home. Not that bani used that word. Or maybe their words for it didn’t translate well.
And then, on the twelfth day, the forest path opened into a luscious clearing. Wouter stopped as the bani hopped past on all sides, flashing excitement and relief. They had reached their destination. A day and a half before Jack’s original goal.
The trees seemed even taller here. Wouter nearly lost his balance as he looked up. The sun stood high, but these trees allowed mere slivers of sunlight to reach the mix of rocks and dark green broad-leafed grass of the clearing. Wouter knelt. Pim jumped off him and sniffed the soft, inviting grass—growing in every gap—and rubbed its face through it.
“It’s not edible.”
Wouter smiled at Nif. “It’s really soft, though.”
“It smells funny.”
Trying not to laugh, Wouter inhaled. It smelled like cucumbers. Fresh, earthy. Nothing like the musty smell of algae. No wonder he liked it. And Nif did not. This whole place seemed to smell fresher. There were no patches of curly heather anywhere, only this grass.
“You like it, don’t you?”
“It smells more like home.”
Nif flashed disappointment, and Wouter wished he hadn’t said anything. Now that they reached the bani winter habitat, their assignment was done. Over. When they started on this trek, he had never expected to feel sad to be going home. He grabbed Nif’s hand and squeezed. “We’re not leaving today.” At least, he hoped not. He could always beg Jack for an extra night to prepare for the disc travel. Just thinking about it made his stomach complain.
“Good.” He pointed at the music box strapped to his back. “Why don’t you explore while I hang this and dust my leaf.”
Dusting his leaf. “Which tree are you in?” Like asking what street he lived in.
Nif turned to the right. “Across the pond. But I’ll find you when I’m done.”
Wouter hadn’t even seen a pond. It seemed small, compared to the one at the summer habitat. With trees growing closer to the edges.
“There’s another one on the other side. No birthing pond here.”
“It looks lovely.”
“It’s good, for winter.” He walked off with Pim following him.
Nif made it sound like a holiday park. Which, from the bani’s point of view, it might well be. Especially since their winters lasted about three months. Right. So did Earth’s, but this planet only had two seasons. And not neatly cut in half, either. Summers lasted about eight months. Ruben would have probably known what that meant for the axis, rotation, and whatnot.
“You’re blocking the path, Wouter. Might want to move.”
Wouter shook himself out of his thoughts and followed Jack into the clearing. He looked over his shoulder and bowed his head in apology to the bani lingering behind him. “Isn’t it gorgeous?”
“Sop was telling me it took their ancestors a long time to dig away at the rocks so the algae could expand.”
“Algae didn’t grow here?”
“Not enough for them to survive on for three moons. Months. Now they have me doing it.”
They crossed the clearing to a narrow path ahead, bathed in the bright sunlight.
“Where do you think this leads?”
“Sop mentioned a large lake that catches the sun during the day. Too exposed, too many unknown wilds in the water. They prefer swimming in the ponds.”
Swimming? After walking for so long and washing in shallow streams, swimming in a lake sounded wonderful. “Let’s find out.”
The path opened up to a pebble beach leading into a large body of water and the most unobstructed view yet. Mountains rose to the right and left of them. The ones to the right disappeared into the lake, but the ones on the left stretched out as far as they could see. Across the water were open fields, enclosed by trees on all sides. Tops of more mountains were barely visible against the sharp sky.
“Wow.”
“More sand, and this would be the perfect place for a summer cottage.” Jack rummaged in his backpack. “Good thing I nicked some of that nanoweave net the ENO had in their container. We can string it between the trees.”
“You did what?”
Jack shrugged. “They had plenty. It seemed a waste not to take some. Even snagged another crimping tool.”
“Better clear it with Vek.”
“She knows. Even the council agreed we might need it. We could have strung up the rescue blankets. They’re made of pretty durable material.”
“And deprive the bani of Klunkett and Co?”
“Soon they’ll have their own collection. I’m sure the sefoni can get them screens.”
Nif watching Klunkett and Co without him. Wouter closed his eyes. That hurt. “When are we leaving?”
“Tomorrow at the earliest, Vek said she was going to hail the sefoni after dinner, so I’ll send word to the Alliance then, too. But I was thinking day after. Give us time to wrap things up here,” he said with a wink.
Wrap things up with Nif. It made it sound… he didn’t want to think about that. Sliding his backpack off his shoulders, he sat on the rocky beach and undid his shoelaces. “Gives us time to swim.” Maybe that would clear his head.
Twenty-Nine
Home
Nif took his time dusting his leaf. Not that it was very dusty, but he wanted to give Six time to explore. He turned on the music box and lay back, closing his eyes as the familiar music filled the air. Six had been wonderful. But he missed sleeping on a leaf. There was something about the soothing swaying of leaves in a breeze that curly heather lacked. Having Six next to him was soothing in its own way, and waking up holding hands was the best. But Six would be leaving soon, and Nif would have to get used to sleeping alone again. Sop had even offered to keep him company, but he’d be all right.
He let the leaf soothe him for a little longer, and then made his way down the tree. “Want to come find Six with me?” he asked Pim. Then he blinked and flashed confusion. Was he clucking to a wild now? Not that Pim reacted. It seemed too busy exploring some nearby bushes. That was, until he walked off, then it followed and bumped into his legs until he picked it up. Silly wild.
Six wasn’t easy to find. Not in the clearing or at either pond. Where had he gone? When laughter echoed through the trees, he knew where to look. Of course Six had discovered the lake. And it sounded as though he wasn’t alone.
Bani didn’t venture towards the lake often. They might not burn as easily as Six, but the sun dried their skins, even when lounging in the water. And this one could be cold at night. Bani enjoyed the view from the safety of their leaves. He, Esh, and Rut had enjoyed many sunsets in these trees.
As he reached the rocky beach, he found their baskets and a mess of wrappings, including those for drying, and Six and Jack clucking in the water. They were swimming. And laughing. It was good to hear them laughing. There hadn’t been enough of that these past days.
“Don’t swim too far. Wilds live underwater.” Nif had spotted one once, late at night. An enormous wild had risen from the lake, only to fall back with a loud splash, spraying water high into the sky. It had been broad and flat and still half submerged. He shuddered. It had been at least three times as tall as Six.
“We won’t. Don’t worry. We’ll be out soon.”
They splashed water at each other like sprog. The minders were keeping the sprog close the first days after the trek. If they saw Six and Jack playing—couldn’t call that swimming—in the lake, then they’d surely want to join them.
Nif settled near the baskets, grabbing the wrappings they dried themselves with and laid them out the way he’d seen Six do before. Neither human wore wrappings as they rose out of the water. It was strange to see them like this. He liked the spots all over Six’s body, though. And the pink hue across his skin where the sun touched him. He was so tall.
As he grabbed his wrappings and fastened them around his waist, his cheeks turned red. Did he not like Nif looking?
“Sop mentioned wilds, too. You know anything about them?” Jack grabbed more of the drying wrappings and rubbed them across his body.
“They’ve never approached us. They don’t even come to the beach. But there are stories about them eating bani. From long ago. Our elder kin will know.”
He put his boots on and grabbed his backpack. “I’ll go find an elder, and after that, I’ll go see how many sprog I can carry. I did promise them.”
Nif wouldn’t mind seeing that.
Six sat on the stone, drying himself. “I like your winter habitat.” He stared at the lake.
“We are always glad to go back to our summer habitat. It’s not moist enough for our skins here. But winter is only short and the colours are soothing.”
“We get snow in winter. White, fluffy slivers of frozen water that fall from the sky like rain and cover the landscape like algae or heather.”
Nif closed his eyes to imagine what that looked like. “Frozen? Like cold?”
“Really cold. They melt easily when it’s warmer, but sprog love to play in it.”
“Sprog love to play in anything.”
Six laughed. “They do. Some adults will always be like sprog.”
“Like you and Jack swimming in a lake that belongs to large wilds?”
“Or like sprog going into caves when adults cluck them not to.”
“So, human sprog aren’t different from bani sprog.”
“Only physically. Sprog are sprog.”
Sprog were sprog. No matter what planet. It was a thought worth holding on to with Six leaving soon. They would both have their own lives, far away from each other, but the idea that sprog were sprog everywhere made that distance fade.
“Jack’s giving us an extra day. Assuming the sefoni and Alliance agree.”
Nif’s skin already betrayed his happiness, even as he was still collecting his thoughts. “I’ve missed sleeping in a tree.” If only he’d waited with clucking it until Six finished pulling wrappings over his head and down his body.
When Six was done, he turned to Nif. “Then you sleep on your leaf tonight. There’s no heather here to sleep on, so…” Six stared at his hands. “Jack took twisted vines from the offender’s box. We can hang that between two trees to sleep in.”
Maybe that would soothe like sleeping on a leaf. He tried not to think about how those twisted vines had dragged their kin away. Tonight, Nif would stay on his leaf. But tomorrow? Maybe.
Six rose, basket and feet wrappings in hand. “We’d better get out of the sun. Want to sit near the pond?”
Hand-in-hand, they made their way across the warm pebbles and ambled towards the clearing where Jack sat clucking with Vek and a few of their elder kin. He raised his hand at them as they passed. Six returned the gesture, while Nif flashed a greeting.
They chose a spot near Nif’s tree. Six spread one of the smaller wrappings across the pebbles and sat on it. Nif flashed mirth as he joined him and pushed his feet into the water, not the grainy mud. Six did the same.
“Definitely warmer than the lake.”
There was so much Nif wanted to ask, but he didn’t know how. He couldn’t ask Six to stay. There were no boxes for him to live in. No moving pictures. No… no other humans to cluck with, and not enough bani with implants. Besides, maybe there were other species he needed to help. No. That was what Jack did. He never asked what Six did…
“Cluck me what you do?”
Six wriggled his toes in the water. “My minders own a large living box. It’s a place where many people live, and I… I mind it. I repair things, clean things, buy food sometimes, and cluck with them. It’s different every day.”
He enjoyed his work, and the people. “Only humans?”
Six nodded. “Most of the aliens work and live in the larger, more thriving habitats. Ours is small and quiet.”
But Six liked it there. “We’re never quiet.”
“It’s different. This is good.”
A cacophony of clucking rose from the clearing. Jack stood with his arms wide while sprog after sprog, mainly the five and under ones, climbed his legs.
“That’s ten,” an older sprog clucked. “Eleven. Twelve.”
“I think he can fit at least twenty.”
Nif flashed mirth. “I didn’t think he was going to do it.”
“Jack clucked Ruben often played with the sprog to keep those who hired them happy.”
Six’s voice had lost some of its sadness when clucking about his age mate.
“Do you want to play with them?”
“Maybe later.” He put his hand over Nif’s. “I’d rather stay with you for a while longer.”
They watched as twenty-six sprog formed a tower on top of Jack. When they all tumbled off him, more sprog climbed him while the others cheered them on. Some even danced around them.
That reminded Nif. “Do humans dance?”
Six smiled. “We do. I’m not good at it, though. I look like I’m stomping on lightning bugs.”
Was that why he hadn’t danced at the ceremony? “Will you dance with us tonight? Show us how humans dance?”
For a moment, it seemed like Six was going to refuse, but then he sighed. “I’ll try not to dance on your toes.”
Hadn’t Six learned anything? “Bani are smarter than that.”
“You’re definitely smart.” Six squeezed Nif’s hand. “Smart and beautiful.”
Out of nowhere, Pim appeared and scrambled up Six’s leg. Six ran his fingers through Pim’s mane with a soft smile. “Will you look after Pim when I’m gone?”
Did he have to explain again how Pim wasn’t sprog?
“At least take him back to your summer habitat, so he can go home.”
Nif was certain that Pim wouldn’t let them forget it, but that was not what Six wanted to hear. “We will.”
Pim growled as if it agreed. Silly wild. Silly human. He closed his eyes. He was going to miss Six.
Saying goodbye to Nif was hard. He had to force himself to let go of his hand, to not look back, afraid of seeing unhappy colours flashing across his skin. Knowing this moment would come didn’t make leaving hurt any less. As his phonet read the travel disc’s password, he did take a last look at the sefoni standing with Vek. Despite their squat, furry, diminutive figures, they were intimidating. Jack and Wouter were lucky to have Vek in their corner.
Landing on his knees on a hard floor wasn’t much better than slippery, foul-smelling algae. Well, maybe not so foul-smelling once he got used to it. His stomach roiled and the room spun around him. Someone handed him a bucket, and he hung over it, pitifully, until he emptied his stomach. It seemed forcing himself to eat while his nerves were shot just thinking about disc travel hadn’t helped. Then again, he hadn’t passed out this time, so maybe it had… a little.
Voices mumbled in the distance. Wouter waited for the earpiece to translate. When it didn’t, he felt his ear. He hadn’t lost it. Maybe disc travel had…
The room stopped spinning, and a paper towel hovered in front of his face.
“Here. A nurse’ll be here in a moment.”
Jack. Right. Disc travel didn’t make him sick. “Okay.” Wouter took the towel and wiped his mouth. Though he didn’t stray far from the bucket, just in case, until the nurse arrived.
She approached him, masked and gloved, with a scanner, nodding as she read whatever she’d been scanning him for. “How’s your stomach?”
“Angry, but silent.”
“Good.” She laughed as she fiddled with an injector. “I’m Rosie. She/her. And I promise I’ll be gentle.”
Wouter leaned back against the wall. “Wouter. He/him. I can’t promise not to throw up again.” After a month of curly heather being the most comfortable surface he’d sat—and slept—on, the floor didn’t feel so bad.
“Don’t worry. I’ve seen worse. This’ll settle your stomach.” She checked her scanner again. “And that migraine, though I can’t promise anything. Like I said, I don’t have a file on you.” She knelt, pushed his left sleeve up and held the injector to his arm.
