A Darkling Sea by James Cambias

Author:James Cambias [Cambias, James]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Science Fiction
ISBN: 9780765336279
Google: oCknAgAAQBAJ
Amazon: 0765336278
Goodreads: 17934480
Publisher: Tor Books
Published: 2013-12-10T00:00:00+00:00

BROADTAIL is teaching the youngsters how to speak properly. Each student is kept in a pen, and Broadtail moves along the row with a bag of clinger meat. They strain against the netting of the pens, snatching at him, but he keeps behind the row of little stones marking the limit of their reach.

He stops before each pen and conducts a little lesson. The student doesn’t get any meat until it can say “Give me food.” Half of them fail. Broadtail recalls Oneclaw’s advice.

“Most of them fail at new lessons, but I expect improvement. Hunger is a good teacher.”

The female at the end of the row, Smoothshell, can only snatch feebly. Broadtail doesn’t remember her eating anything in the pens. She fails all her lessons. Is she too stupid to learn? In that case she is nothing but food for the others.

But she sounds clever enough. Her pings are rare but sharp. Broadtail recalls her almost getting herself untied from one of Oneclaw’s clumsy knots. Perhaps she is simply stubborn. He decides to try something he dimly remembers from his own youth.

“Food,” he says, and loudly eats a bit. Then he places a chunk of clinger flesh where she can reach it. “Food,” he repeats as she grabs the bit. “Food.”

“I give you food,” he says, putting out another bit. He listens as she gobbles it. He waits.

She strains against the netting, clacking her pincers, but she can’t reach the bag.

“Speak to me,” he says. “Speak or starve. Choose now. I think you understand me.”

He waits. She stops struggling, tries one last surprise lunge, which brings her extended pincer almost close enough to touch him, then is still. He waits some more.

“Food,” she says quietly.

“Good. What do you want?”

Another long pause, then she says “Give me food.”

Broadtail shoves half a dozen clingers toward her. “Very good. I give you food. I give Smoothshell food.”

“Holdhard,” she says a little more loudly. It is not a name he recognizes.

“Where is Holdhard?”

“I am Holdhard.”

“You are Smoothshell.”

“I am Holdhard.”

This is a curious development. Normally children her age don’t have personal names. They can barely comprehend themselves as individuals.

“Very well, Holdhard. I give Holdhard food.” He gives her the last two bits of clinger. “Broadtail gives Holdhard food.”

He waits a little longer, then turns to go. As he leaves he just catches her saying “Broadtail gives Holdhard food” very quietly.

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