Mia sat in silence on the bench, watching the large circular table in the middle of the room. Scylla sat amidst a group of assembled matrons and other community representatives, including Captain Hooker, one who had been held hostage during the Liberation..
Three and Four stood behind Scylla, perhaps a symbol of Scylla's role in this meeting in addition to their own unspoken role as Marie's eyes and ears in the discussion.
On Marie's recommendation, Scylla had called a meeting with all the community leaders and matrons who had been coming to her over the past few weeks. Now, instead of them coming at her individually, they could all speak together and voice their joint concerns.
"Callie leaving doesn't change a thing," Scylla said. "We're not less safe without 'er; if anything, we're safer because she'll be able tah deal with the few Octarains that are still warmongering."
"We were never worried about the Octarians," said Hooker. "It's the Consortium that worries us. We know they've been sneakin' 'round about, but we 'aven't been able to find out where they've been 'idin'."
"Where have they been caught the most?" Asked Matron Mender.
"Warehouses, docks an' the like. Even the school."
The mantles on those present whipped up with colours of aggression and concern, the mix of the two differing from person to person, only Three's and Four's remained unchanged.
Three asked. "How have you been identifying them?"
"That would be us," the only crab at the table, an old fiddler crab named Chitin Molter, raised his smaller claw, leaving his much larger claw resting on the table. He was only about Pearl's height but he had a surprisingly powerful voice, especially for a crab.
Hooker nodded. "Molter 'ere's a good old sea 'and. Immigrated 'ere long before the big rush from when the Grand Consortium first formed. The crabs on the boats know who their friends are and they know who's from outside their community. They also know which ones ya' can't trust."
"It's been made easier by the fact that most of the inkling sailor's families also know us and even the children have been around us long enough to be able to identify a stranger."
Scylla flashed green. "A crab wouldn't be around an inkling school unless they were friends or family."
"Aye, exactly!" Hooker exclaimed. "The problem is that we still 'aven't been able to figure out just where these strangers are goin' or comin' from. We do know that they've been goin' underground and they've been avoiding gathering in groups so they've been able to slip away quick-like."
"And the city underground is a hopeless maze," sighed Matron Bluegrass. "My husband was in IS before he moved into private security and he used to patrol the underground at least once a week. He told me that criminals add hidden rooms and hide passageways using cleverly disguised doors. They also find ways to reroute a lot of the passages to make things even more confusing."
"And the Consortium will be doing the exact same thing," Scylla muttered. "Must be 'ow they've 'idden 'ow that swarm of little crabs ended up at the Bloody Circle."
Thoughtful looks were exchanged around the table until Matron Bluegrass spoke again. "As important as I'm sure this is, we still have to prioritise the safety of the children. I think we can agree that catching them hanging around schools is a bad sign."
"Surely they wouldn't go that far." Matron Mender sounded horrified. "Against teenagers is bad enough, but even younger children?"
"We can't rule out the possibility!"
Scylla glanced down at one of the papers in front of her. "I don't think we have to worry just yet. As best Callie and Marie can figure, the Consortium's strategy is to aggravate our current issues, prevent peace between us and the Octarians; and target teens and younger adults. They probably feel like if they can hit teens and young adults bad enough, then it'll make the little ones too scared to oppose them and the parents more defensive, to save the kids they 'ave left. If they go after the little kids first, then they'd make the parents and their big brothers and sisters angry."
"Angry enough to fight them wherever they are." Molter nodded his agreement. "Sounds like the Consortium alright. That kind of thinking is what formed it in the first place. They can't get their big army over to fight Calachora without crossing the ocean first, and the Coast Guard would stop any attempt by sea."
Scylla held up a paper. "Even so, Callie and Marie came up with a list of suggestions for things we can do to make the schools safer for the kids. Which suggestions you want to use depends how dangerous you think things are."
Matron Bluegrass leaned closer. "Such as?"
"Such as having a plan to lock down the school and conducting drills; no outside recess where the kids can be picked off by just a handful of crabs, and having parents sign up to a text alert list that sends an emergency message in the event of an attack."
"I can't imagine the tykes being 'appy forced to stay inside." Hooker shook his head. "But, I can see the logic."
"I can hand you all photocopies of their suggestions." Scylla put down the paper and placed both fists on the table. "'Course we still 'ave the problem of the older kids. They don't 'ave school and it's not easy for parents to keep tabs on 'em. They're all restless, they wanna' do somethin'. Parents won't be able tah keep 'em at 'ome."
"What's wrong with what you're doing now?" Mender spread her hands. "By keeping them around the Octarians and in Xapheerell, it's too dangerous for the crabs to go after them."
"Some of 'em, but there's more showin' up all the time and the Octarians 'ave been spread thin. If the crabs 'ave numbers like they did at the Bloody circle, lots of kids'll get 'urt, or worse, if they attack. The Octarians won't be able to stop all of 'em and none of the kids are keen on just being babysat; they wanna' fight, and I think they should be allowed to."
Mia watched the expressions of everyone carefully. Hooker looked elated, as did some of the other matrons, but others, like Matron Mender, looked upset.
"We can't have teenagers fighting those horrible creatures! These aren't like the crabs they see every day, these are child murdering monsters! It isn't a game like turf war!"
"Don't try to tell me what it's like!" Scylla thundered. Her shout startled everyone at the table. That was not how one was supposed to speak to a matron, but Scylla clearly didn't care. She stood up and leaned forward with her hands planted on the table, glaring at everyone around the table but at Matron Mender in particular.
"I've been fighting these freaks since I could shoot ink, almost all my life 'as been spent gradually losing to 'em. They killed my grandma in front of me and tried to eat what was left of 'er. I 'ad to watch as we gradually lost our turf to 'em over the years 'cause the Inkling gangs were too focused on their own rivalries to realise what was really 'appening, and by the time they did, it was too late. So me and 'oever was left 'ad to sit in our little bastion, waiting for the day they'd come tah finish us off while the NSF sat in their 'igh tower offices ignorin' what was 'appenin tah us!
"I saw the Liberation first 'and, saw 'ow Callie an' Marie tore through their shells with the Octarians 'ammerin' away right behind 'em. I 'eard what 'appened at the Bloody Circle, saw the piles of dead crabs and realised what they'd been plannin' tah do tah us."
She pointed at Three and Four. "And these two were also there. Four 'ere 'eld on with 'er Splatoon in that 'ardware store 'till 'elp got there, never given' up even though they were surrounded and way outnumbered, an' Three 'ere went and rescued 'em by jumping right into the middle of 'em and kill anythin' dumb enough tah get too close! They've both been fightin' since they turned fourteen. They're not kids anymore, they're veterans."
The room was left in silence, everyone looking left and right at the person sitting next to them as if gauging their reaction. Mia found herself feeling a little dumb. It was so obvious but she hadn't genuinely realised it before. If Three had been fighting since she turned Fourteen, and she was about sixteen and a half now, then she was more of a veteran than most of those who had fought in the Great Turf war. True, the experience had been very different but that didn't invalidate it.
Hooker coughed, breaking the silence. "Yeah, I saw 'em meself; they saved me life, but our kids only know turf war, and this ain't the same."
Scylla sat back down and Three stepped forward. "That is why we would have to train them. The Octarians are all trained soldiers, experienced, and they can provide the training needed to turn all the inklings assisting Work Detail into soldiers."
Matron Bluegrass' mantle darkened and challenging colours appeared. "You want them to be turned into an army? Cleaning up old lots and building new houses is one thing, but can you ask them to do something like that?"
Three met her challenge with tyrian purple in her mantle, calmly responding, "it was them who asked us. We were handed a petition with hundreds of signatures asking us to train them to defend themselves, to turn them into an army like the Octarians, for the sake of their futures. More than anything else, they wanted to be useful to Callie and Marie."
"So they're devoted fans," Matron Vengrere said dismissively. "Hardly enough to make you want to be a soldier."
"That's why we've been sorting them out. Those that are still helping Work Detail are the ones who have what it takes to become soldiers, or at least play a role."
Matron Mender half stood, glaring at her. "You've been doing all this behind our backs?"
Three met her with a cool, calm gaze of her own, her mantle carefully maintaining its natural green hue. "We never tried to hide what we were doing. If you didn't know then it's because they didn't tell you. We offered them a way to help and they took it. That is all, Matron."
Matron Mender's mantle fluctuated for a moment, but she managed to hide the embarrassment of losing her temper to someone a fraction of her age, and she sat back down.
"It can't be that easy," Molter said. "Training will take time and resources, even with the Octarians doing the teaching. Even the Militia, which has government support, has been struggling to get itself off the ground. Besides that, the Consortium is bound to notice what you're doing and they might try to nip the problem in the bud."
Three flashed green and nodded. "That is why we have to bring them all into the same training facility. We'll use the old coast guard base and set them up there. It has enough space and facilities to house them."
Matron Vengrere frowned. "House them? You want them to live there?"
"It will be safer since they can't get picked off during the commute that way. By being together it also means the Consortium would need a significant force to assault the base. It's also right in Xapheerell, which means Scylla's forces would be close at hand and it would be more difficult to approach without being spotted first and there is no underground under the base itself for them to sneak into.
"As for resources, Marie is willing to pay for Work Detail's services and the uniforms everyone will need, and Pearl has bought the base from the government and will be paying for the utilities. That still leaves things like food services and basic needs of the trainees. One suggestion was that parent volunteers could work at the cafeteria for mealtimes in addition to a monthly fee to cover food costs, extra maintenance and things like that."
The community leaders all looked at each other. Some had questioning looks, others looked more worried.
"What exactly is this army for?" Matron Bluegrass asked. "Would we really want to send our children and grandchildren against the Consortium?"
"If you don't go after them they'll come after you," Molter cautioned. "And they'll be prepared when they come after you."
Three flashed green. "We were also concerned that, without leadership and guidance, the people on the petition would try to do something on their own, probably something stupid. This way they get training, guidance, and direction, along with effective training to help them when they do get in trouble."
"And what about the government?" Matron Vengrere asked. "We can't expect them to just sit idly by and let us make our own army."
Scylla cut in. "Look, we're all here because we wanted to come together to find a solution to a problem the government doesn't have a solution for. This is a solution. It might not be a perfect one, but at least it is one."
"But if they go and fight, they could die," Matron Mender argued.
"Yes," Three acknowledged. "That is another reason we had to separate the dedicated from those who weren't, to reduce casualties as much as possible, by eliminating those we didn't think we could rely on. They know their lives are already at risk, but at least this way they can challenge that risk and do something about it. This isn't something they're being forced into, this is their choice."
Again, the members all looked at each other. Finally, Hooker said, "Well, it's better than just rollin' over when the worst comes. The militia won't be able to change anything on its own. Whatever's goin' tah happen, it's going to happen by spring."
Scylla flashed green. "It has to, because that's when they'll be invading Bellchora."
Matron Bluegrass rubbed her forehead. "Well, all we can do is speak to all the parents and the children. What they decide will determine how things move forward."
"Naturally. If we can manage to make peace with the Octarians too, then that'll be one less headache and one more thing going for us."
"Let's 'ope so," Hooker said. "'Cause unless we can get a grip on things soon, we'll be a ship out tah sea in a real bad storm."
—-
Foame sat staring at the bulletin in her email inbox. It had been sent to everyone that had been assisting Work Detail. The work had been brutal and Foame felt like her muscles were finally starting to become accustomed to the work and she had gotten used to the way the Octarians did things: very martial, very regimented, but effective and efficient. She was coming to appreciate what Callie and Marie had been talking about when they'd mentioned learning from each other. It wasn't what she and the others had asked for but it was working out pretty well. Every day they saw what they were doing making a difference, even if it was just for Xapheerell. Now, she was staring at the notice that what they had initially wanted might come to fruition at last… but she was starting to have second thoughts about it.
Foame looked over at her wall which was half covered in posters of her favourite groups. Ink Theory, Off the Hook, Bottom Feeders, and of course, the Squid Sisters.
The poster of the latter was from their concert following the final splatfest, coinciding with the release of their new album, Maritime Memory. It was hard to believe that was already two years ago. It was amazing how fast time went by if you weren't paying attention, and how perceptions could change.
Foame had always seen Callie and Marie as two girls living out lives just about every young girl dreamed of, but with the integrity and strength of character so many idols before them seemed to lack, neither afraid to stand up for their principles. Their reward had been becoming the two largest celebrities and the wealthiest teenagers in the world. Over the past few weeks, Foame only felt more strongly that they were ideal role models for her; however, she was starting to question whether or not her and the other kids' desire to become a part of their cause was actually hurting them more than it was helping, putting them in an awkward position with the government.
Foame stood up and headed downstairs, tucking her phone into her sweater pocket. She went into the kitchen to get a drink of water and found her mother putting cookies into a tin.
"You have time, right Foame?"
Foame hesitated in the midst of opening the fridge door. Every teenager knew the warning signs they were about to be asked to do something.
"Yeah…"
"Good, I need you to take these cookies to Granny and Grampy – and quit letting out the cold!"
Foame quickly took the water jug out and shut the door. "Now? It's after supper."
"I know, but your granny has been having a hard time lately and tomorrow we'll be too busy so now's the best time. I think she could really use a pick-me-up."
Foame sighed. "Okay, I'll do it." She actually thought going to visit her grandmother for a bit would be beneficial, but she didn't want her mother to know that. It was also painfully clear why tomorrow would be so busy. The bulletin had said that while they have a plan in place, things have to go through their parents before anything happens. No doubt those discussions would be long and Foame's family would be in a very uncomfortable position, but her mother wasn't the type to abstain from any argument.
The whole bus ride to her grandparent's house, she thought about what she was going to say. It wasn't easy. It was due to her grandmother that she had been saddled with the weight of her pedigree since she'd hatched. Not that it was really her fault though. Her grandmother was a wonderful person, and Foame looked up to her, but her position had always coloured everyone's perception of Foame, who saw her not as herself but as her grandmother's granddaughter, and with that came all the unwelcome expectations. Now, she might be spitting in the face of all that.
No bus at this late hour would take her all the way, forcing her to get off and cross the windy Pinnacle Bridge on foot, and all the damp cold of winter's frigid breath could hurl upon her. By the time she got to the other side she was covered in a layer of frost, which she swept off with her free hand to keep it from freezing to her.
She was glad once she reached the large house on the other side of the island. The guard at the checkpoint admitted her without fuss and the housekeeper met her at the door.
"Lords above, child, you look like an ice cream cone! Get in here and let's warm you up."
Foame was dragged in and quickly brushed down to remove all the snow and powdered ice still clinging to her. Her scarf looked like it had been dunked in icing sugar.
"What are you doing, going about at this hour? Don't you know it's dangerous in the city right now?"
"I guess Mom forgot. She has a lot of stuff on her mind. Or maybe she thought this was going to be the last chance we'd get for a while."
"If you caught a cold or some awful crab got you, it would be the last chance ever!" She pulled Foame's jacket off. "I'll hang this up by the fireplace to dry off. Your granny's in the study."
The study was near the back of the house on the main floor. It faced the gardens behind the house, though they were barren and covered with snow. Her grandmother kept the study fairly spartan and free of distraction. Despite being called a 'study' there were only a few small bookshelves, with houseplants taking up most of the shelf space. A grandfather clock stood sentinel near the door, swinging its large pendulum and emitting a dignified tick and tock with each cycle, the only source of noise in the room.
Her grandmother sat alone in a high-back chair, staring out the window. A half-full glass of red wine sat on the end table next to her. There was only one other chair in the room, directly across from her, but Foame couldn't recall any time she had ever seen her grandfather fill that second chair.
Foame approached slowly and called out in a cautious voice. "Granny? Are you okay?"
Her grandmother turned, golden eyes returning from some distant place to focus on her. Her sobre expression softened into a smile and she beckoned her with an extended hand.
"Come on, Foame, I'm not particularly busy."
Foame set the tin of cookies down on the end table and gave her grandmother a hug. "Sorry for visiting so late. Mom wanted me to bring you some cookies before things got too busy."
"Perfectly fine, I could use some pleasant company for a change."
Foame grimaced. "But Granny, most of the times we see each other I'm always telling you about some problems I have."
Her grandmother laughed. "Foame, the trouble of a sixteen-year-old are trifling compared to the troubles of a whole nation, especially when you get to my age. What seems like the end of the world to most teenagers is just another tuesday for many adults."
"So I keep hearing," she smirked. "It's just that… everyone's been worried, I guess. A lot of my friends have been scared that they might be snatched up or killed by crabs coming up from underground. IS has been trying but the underground is a maze. Tomorrow, Matron Bluegarden is going to discuss a possible solution with everyone. It's something a group of matrons and other community leaders have worked on together."
She was mildly surprised to see her grandmother appear cheered at the news. "Well, someone finally doing something on their own to change the situation? I thought those days had long passed and everyone needed the government to do everything for them."
Foame was puzzled. "Um… I thought people doing the government's job for them was a bad thing?"
Now it was her grandmother's turn to look puzzled. "What are you talking about? Where did you hear that?"
"It's just… with everything people have been saying about the Liberation…"
Her grandmother sighed and reached over to pat her hand. "Foame, dear, half of that is just ego talking, and the other half is how they did it. No matriarch wants to admit that a bunch of teenagers solved a crisis they had been ignoring. They're also afraid they'll lose their illustrious positions if Callie and Marie suddenly decide to enter politics once they come of age. It seems one of them already has."
Foame managed a weak smile. "I guess the Octarians can't afford to let ego get in the way of recognising merit. Ever since Callie… left, all the Octarians I've talked to have a lot to say about all the good things Callie did, even if not everyone was happy about it."
"I imagine she was quite the disruption in such an isolationist nation. Their trust would not have been easily won."
"Well, one thing I heard over and over again was that she gave them hope."
"Ah, yes, hope." Her grandmother looked out the window towards the bay, though it was invisible behind the curtain of snow being blown across their view. "Hope is a wonderful thing, Foame. It can light your darkest hour and make the impossible possible, but it can also be used to manipulate people. Never forget that."
Foame shivered. "I won't. But, um, Granny, how do you do the job of the government without undermining it?"
Her grandmother gave her an odd look. "Such as?"
"Like… maybe raising another army?"
Cautious warning spots blotted her grandmother's golden tentacles. "Is that what's happening?"
Foame swallowed. "Maybe? They're gonna' discuss it tomorrow. I… I'm sorry, Granny, we were just scared and we didn't know what was going on or who we could believe, and the Assembly wasn't giving you the support you needed so… so we asked Callie and Marie if we could join their army, which turned out not to actually exist…" She lowered her head, ripples of shame washing across her mantle. "I just… we just wanted to do something. We just felt so helpless, and it seemed like they were the ones who knew what to do."
"But now you're having second thoughts."
Foame flashed green with spots of pink shame. "Yeah… I mean, Callie and Marie didn't even ask for an army. I feel like we've put 'em in a bad spot where they have people who want their help but if they do it only makes things worse for them. We weren't thinking about how it might affect them, we just wanted what we wanted, what we thought was best. I was a little worried about how it would affect you but other than that, even I didn't think about how it might affect anyone else. I was just trying to keep everyone out of trouble."
Foame kept her head down, expecting a lecture or at the very least some kind of admonishment, but instead, her grandmother reached over and lightly patted her on the head.
"If you're saying that then it means you learned that lesson much sooner than I did. One of the harsh lessons of being a leader is that your decisions affect many people, some you might not even be aware of. That's why you have to be able to rely on those under you to tell you about these things."
"Which didn't happen with you and the crab gangs, did it, Granny."
She sighed. "No, I suppose it didn't, but I can't waste time thinking about that when I still have a crisis to solve." She paused then asked, "did you come here hoping for my approval?"
Foame flashed red. "Not exactly, I just wanted some advice. Everything's just so… weird. It's like the matrons don't even trust their own matriarchs."
"That's always a bad sign, Foame, but it's not uncommon. Matriarchs, especially when they get old, can become rigid and set in their ways. Especially over the past twenty years or so, that's why so many things have gotten out of control. The Assembly has been too comfortable and too complacent for too long."
Foame tapped her thumbs together, anxiously. "Granny, I know that making an army separate from the government is a bad thing, but we don't know what else to do."
Her grandmother stood and took a few steps towards the window. She reached out her hand and touched the cold glass, peering out into the swirling flakes beyond. "What else can you do? Foame, just twenty years ago I could have unleashed the Enforcer Corps on those crabs and wiped them out, and Callie and Marie would never have needed to get involved."
Foame frowned. "So… what's happened in the last twenty years?"
Her grandmother's head dipped and she sighed. "About that time, there was an incident in Xapheerell Ward that made headlines around the country. A… dancer, I suppose you could call her, was walking home when she was set upon by over a dozen crabs from the crab gangs. I don't remember the reason or why they needed so many, but an Enforcer came in and killed every last one of them with a golf club." She smiled ruefully. "I suppose it doesn't sound as bad after the Liberation, but back then, when we could go as much as a decade without a single homicide in Inkopolis, it was quite a shock for everyone."
"Yeah, I bet. So what happened?"
"The Enforcer in question was dismissed for use of excessive force, and the Chief of National Security at the time thought the Enforcers in general should have a more moderate attitude towards their jobs, and so new policies restrained them and made them less dangerous to deal with. They are still highly skilled and our elite, but these changes meant that they could lower their standards, which has helped them with keeping their numbers up, but it means that the Enforcers aren't as strong or skilled as they used to be, on average. And right now, the only thing keeping the crabs away might be the thought that the Consortium doesn't quite know that yet."
Foame grimaced. "And the Octarians just showed that they aren't scared of them either."
"Exactly. Honestly, I'm surprised the Consortium hasn't already acted, but I assume they're still preparing for something. They might still be afraid of the Octarians in Inkopolis and Marie. For all they know, if they attack, Callie might bring another Octarian army down on top of them."
"And you can't officially approve the army?"
"If I did that then it would be a sign of hostility to the Consortium since it would make it obvious I have no intention to negotiate with them. Right now, I'm trying to buy time to find a solution to Bellchora's situation, which means faking cooperation with them."
Foame frowned. "I don't think they believe you anyway."
She smirked. "Of course not, but they still have to act like it to keep up appearances. Even if it seems stupid, even if it makes me look stupid, if it keeps my people safer, then I have to do it."
Foame stood and went to her grandmother's side, grasping her hand. "I'll see what I can do, Granny. It might not be much but I'll do what I can."
Her grandmother smiled and patted her on the head. "You're a good girl, Foame. I know it hasn't been easy being my granddaughter."
Foame pulsed grey. "Eh, whatever, it's worth it to have a granny I can be proud of. I care more about that than you being monarch."
Her grandmother reached around to her side and pulled her close. "I just hope this crisis ends well enough that I'll be able to retire and enjoy being your grandmother."
"Me too," Foame murmured. "Me too."
Author's Notes:
Yes, big reveal, Foame is the Monarch's granddaughter. Needless to say, this does create some conflicted feelings in the poor girl given what's going on in this chapter. The Greater Bastion will be a big deal going forward. I still think I could have come up with a better name for it but at least this fits. Hope you enjoyed the chapter.
