Notes: Another chapter, enjoy!
~ R.R/Rue
3 years 6 months
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A month had passed since the first inspection and ushered in the second. Once more the prawns, 'the people' were angry and in mourning. Some of the children had been returned. Mostly to the families that had not been ripped apart by the first inspection. There were loads more waiting in some far off cell, some sort of limbo between D10 and the human world.
Angry, tense; yes, but somehow restrained.
Their colony managed, scraped by. Perhaps the only concerns were the young adolescents and fractured gang members, fierce and reckless.
The inspection finished in two days.
On the night of that second day Desmond faced Christopher in the nest; a rare occasion considering the day's most recent events.
He could see him in the dark, his prawn eyes adjusting easily in the night. Christopher slept soundly. Eyelids twitching, dreaming.
Desmond, once again, had become lost with emotional instability; unable to sleep. For most of the month he fell into a sort of depression. He suspected that it was his prawn body sympathizing with the rest of the colony. He had acquired a new sense to the world around him. Different from the individual scents he could capture, produce them on his own; this was bigger and stronger than him.
"Desmond?"
His clicks were quiet, soft, and careful not to wake the children clinging on to them.
Desmond didn't respond; his mouth pieces and mandibles clenched close to his face.
"Are you okay?"
"Yes."
In Christopher's stead Oliver had been saying that far too frequently throughout the days. He'd given up on genuinely playing with Theo, no longer actively involved in his care. But even as he was prompted by Christopher's silent glances, they did very little to motivate him.
He looked away, his eyes relaxing but not quite closing.
Theo at least, enjoyed the part where he could cuddle up to his father for bed time. Desmond caught sight of the little one clinging to his chest with his hands, face hidden and pressed into the angle between his body and the nest.
Those eyes continued to watch him. Silent; but the silences were starting to thin. The lack of communication came with a pressure to speak now. It was no longer final and void like it once was, providing peaceful disclosure.
"Tell me what's wrong."
Looking back he huffed quietly through his gills. Watching him again, too tired to feel perturbed by Christopher's attention.
"Afraid."
Carefully at first, Christopher's hand gently grabbed his shoulder. When Desmond simply stared on at him, unaffected by the gesture, Christopher brushed a hand alongside his head.
"I don't want you to isolate yourself… especially from us."
This was the fourth time he had heard this sentence from Christopher, or something similar. His human conditioning, a past-life that clearly divided human and Poleepkwa, male and female from hermaphrodite; made him an outcast; easy to isolate and suffer in loneliness. But to be one of them you were never alone. Despite all their fractures, their divisions between gangs and hostilities, their suffering and 'stupidity'; there was something out there stronger and distinctly hidden from him at the time.
He could only describe it as a feeling, only recognized it as a response to its will.
In the past, when Christopher had uttered such words, they provided only slight relief.
But these were small steps that had brought Desmond closer, revealing rare truths to this creature in the night. Patient, and unyielding; even if the day would threaten to erase the progress of these new found trusts.
"I'm not so sure about that anymore."
Tania was still out there. His angel had resurrected. Long ago when D10 had settled, there were 'Poleepkwa' resources connecting them to the outside world. Groups would offer books, medical services connected to organizations outside of MNU, teachers for basic reading and simple math skills. He went as often as he could in the hopes of finding her. Weeks quickly melted away into months, a year; however short, seemed long and tiring. Only a year had gone by before MNU shut the resource hub down.
Christopher's hand continued to stroke. His fingers trailed and traced the plates along his forehead. Desmond could hear his own sound of approval in the form of a low lying thrum. This was intimate, but not in the way that lovers caressed and soothed; the only love he experienced from the prawn had been fatherly love.
He had been guilty of wanting more.
And now that his heart ached for her, anew, this new alien world struggled to take root in his psyche.
"How come?"
"She's still looking for me. My mate, my… wife."
Desmond could not find anything different on Christopher's face. No response. But he had always been this way; stoic and emotionally guarded. Somehow pure in every intention, tolerant.
Impulsively, as he held Theo in one arm, he closed the distance between them. He pushed his head against the indentation of his throat, leaving an angle and room for his antennae to avoid getting caught. He shut his eyes, nuzzling briefly against his Guardian.
"I don't know what to do." His words intoned sadness, and shook as they vibrated. Confessing, as the child in his arms, neglected, clung jealously to his father. Sound asleep.
For a while the minutes rolled on with each breath from Christopher's gills. Had he done something wrong, he wondered.
"We are a family now. Yes?"
He would have never thought it possible. He blamed the night for the way it churned restlessly inside him. He hadn't changed, he couldn't have changed; both loving and hating the creature clinging against his chest. Grateful and indebted to the people who should have left him in the district to die; he was too broken, and indeed the night made these hurts soft and weak. Malleable to words as he considered what Christopher had said.
What was humanity? He thought vaguely. Out there, a world of stratification, of unequal powers and peoples fighting, struggling to live; clinging on to simple meanings or none at all. His world was dying, Christopher's people were dying. Were they so different?
"Yes."
Christopher's arm wrapped around, as if to reassure, a gesture to confide and neglect the demons telling him otherwise. The prawn started cooing, as was the cure for Desmond's fears and anxieties.
But there was a question, a pause and hesitation to believe in what he'd just said.
"The machines on the ship… I thought… but why wouldn't they?"
The sleep had finally hit him; quite suddenly and strong.
"Tampered with… human involvement, most likely."
"Are you sure?"
He hesitated. Christopher never hesitated, but Desmond was tired and time seemed so far away as he started to slip away.
"Yes."
Samuel was a simple prawn. He was one of Jackson's boys, an older prawn with several family members crammed into the tent beside them. They had helped Christopher keep in touch with the other members of the colony; passed information of gatherings and meetings, highlights of gang activity and rumors.
Desmond did not socialize often. He tended to avoid gatherings when he could, or the rare invitation. In reality they would always welcome him for a visit, but he rarely went.
Although, he didn't mind Samuel with his half left antennae and lame right leg; he could hobble and get around, running was out of the question.
He decided to accompany him, along with Oliver to the food trucks that week. Even with the extra pounds added to Samuel's weight from the parcels, he would manage.
"How is your little one Desmond?"
"Fine."
"Has he learned to speak?"
"Only a few words." Chimed Oliver with a proud smile.
Desmond could not mirror the same. And for a moment he began to reconsider his mutual preference for Samuel.
Samuel smiled.
"He can say dad, please, now, no, yes." Oliver went on.
Desmond cringed inwardly. The little blubber-bug would say it over and over again; 'dad now, please dad, now!'
"Is he running about now?"
"Almost… I'm not looking forward to that."
Samuel snorted.
"Why?" Desmond shot out at Oliver without thinking, accusatory eyes on the boy.
Oliver huffed quietly, looking away and kicking a stone as they walked.
"He's going to be all over the place when he does."
More work, Desmond thought. His gaze broke, guilty for snapping at him.
"You never know. Most of the young ones stay close."
Oliver warily glanced at Desmond.
"No, not with Theo. He'll want to explore and see everything."
They approached the lineup, waiting at the end.
"There's not much to see." Samuel grunted.
Desmond's gaze wandered as the two of them continued to speak. He raised a brow to a far section of the encampment. A small crane had poked past D10's reinforced walls, about three times taller than the average prawn.
"Do you see that?"
Oliver followed his gaze.
"Must be constructing something…" Desmond mumbled.
"Maybe they're expanding. Do you see that Samuel?"
"Not really."
When they received their rations, they were pleased to notice an increase in their supplies. The mood in the area appeared calmer because of it; just slightly.
Oliver helped Samuel take one side of a crate, while Desmond held on to their food for the journey back. Children played in the mud, and kicked old, worn out balls made out of clothing. Some of the adolescents included.
One such group noticed Oliver passing by. A light-tanned prawn whirled playfully after him.
Oliver flicked his attention to the unfamiliar boy, curious. But after a few short seconds he ignored him, focusing on his destination as the other boy tried again to get his attention. Samuel hissed back in warning.
"You don't have to do that Samuel."
Oliver laughed afterwards.
"They need to know their place Oliver." He made a cautionary noise, a lilting warble.
"They'll just keep bothering you otherwise."
Oliver nodded, losing his smile.
After dropping by Jackson's briefly, they arrived to their tent.
Oliver trilled to his father, "They gave us more this week."
"This is good news."
Christopher provided his hands for Theo, as the young one stood up from the other end of the nest. Started walking with more confidence, a little less wobbling; he veered towards Desmond as soon as the child noticed.
"Dad!"
With hands stretched out and reaching, he stomp-walked closer with a wild grin. Desmond reluctantly crouched down, and received the child with welcoming screeches. Happy, it would appear.
He fought against himself as he hugged the little critter back.
Somehow the little bug seemed to forget how badly he would treat him; or rather, ignore. Theo proceeded to nuzzle into his chest.
"MNU is building something."
"Oh? I wonder how long it will take." Christopher stood up, having to hunch just slightly to avoid the roof of the tent. He retrieved the notebook and a pencil for Oliver.
"I wonder what it is…" He grabbed them from his father's hands.
"There are new problems for you to solve."
His father had crouched down and rested a hand on his son's shoulder.
"I want to play outside after."
Christopher and Oliver exchanged a look.
"With who?"
"With one of Jackson's."
Christopher raised a brow.
"Not Henry." He replied quickly.
"With Eli. And I'll stay within our section."
Christopher retracted his arm, thinking, before he glanced at Desmond.
"Will you go watch him?"
Desmond could see Oliver's struggle to protest; the slight wave of agitation making his antennae flutter briefly.
"Sure." He shrugged, and sat down on the floor. He tried putting Theo down too, but he clung close with bubbling purrs.
"He hasn't eaten much. Are you hungry Desmond?"
He nodded.
"A little."
Christopher rummaged through the new supplies, grabbing the fresh meat from a plastic bag and handed it over.
This finally caught Theo's attention, the smell of raw meat in the air made him abandon his previous pursuits.
Meanwhile, Christopher took a seat and watched the young one. Desmond ripped a piece for the child, standing in wait, and snatched it from his hands. Satisfied, the child sat down on his rump between his father's legs and ate.
Desmond followed after the two boys, another one joining as they walked to the nearest field in their area. The only field for Section E, with nothing but clumps of dirt and grass scattered about, shallow puddles and the outdoor showers to the side; at least the children enjoyed them.
"What are we going to do?"
"We could just run around." Oliver seemed to not care much.
"Sounds boring… What do you think Eli?"
The youngest of them had just molted. But the boy was mute and slightly skittish. He ducked his head, and gave a warble.
"Well… we could play tag."
"Sure." When they spotted the field Oliver darted off, yelling, "Last one's it!"
Eli dashed behind him, while their friend whirled in annoyance and sprinted after.
There were several other prawns about, little ones and teenagers; young adults sparring and wrestling in the dirt while their friends chided to one another; adults watching their young.
Things did seem brighter, Desmond thought.
He had only been here a few times, when things were not so violent and uncertain.
There was nowhere to hide in D10, nowhere to run. The first year put the prawns to an edge where they seemed incapable of functioning all together. In the sense that they were afraid of one another, restless and aggressive from losing what little freedom they once had in D9. Not this regulation of food and water, of cages and privileges for their good behavior.
He tried keeping an eye on the darting youths. Feeling uneasy when they neared older groups, or skirted about them; to his relief most ignored the trio. Weaving through the field and teasing one another. He could see Oliver goading the friend, Bailey, he recalled. They scuffled. Oliver wasn't particularly strong though, and every bout ended with the youth pinned with his back to the ground.
Theo became restless then. Now, with his new ability to walk, he trotted along, eager. Falling several times, but this did not deter his enthusiasm. His bright eyes would look back for approval. Searching for that motivation, and having found none, Desmond forced himself to trill back.
It made those eyes, elated as they were, somehow more vibrant; Theo squeaked and moved along.
He allowed the child to run several paces ahead while he trailed behind; torn between Theo and Oliver's movements. He ended up watching his little spawn exclusively. Oliver was capable, the atmosphere of the colony (in these parts) thrummed with a neutral existence; he should be fine.
He interacted with a trill, or a small smile, watched as the child explored the world around him; so curious, alive. Getting dirty from the puddles, splashing, and squeezing the mud in his hands.
Soon enough he was joined by another little boy, who ran up to the puddle and jumped into its middle. This alarmed Desmond, tense, not expecting this sudden interaction he stepped closer and watched with a frown.
Theo blinked up at the culprit from where he sat. The little one viewed back with a tilt of his head, grinned and giggled. Quickly joined by the smiles and grins of Theo covered in mud. The boy screeched and wobbled up with dirty hands and started chasing his new friend.
"He's enjoying himself." Christopher's pleased voice hit the air.
Desmond turned.
"How long…?"
"Just now."
The prawn walked up to and stood beside him. The others around them knew better than to outright stare, or look out of curiosity or respect; but they did in ways that would not look so obvious. Desmond had always found this slightly disturbing.
"Oliver, too." He clacked, trying to shake off these glances.
"Hm."
When Desmond found him, he and his friends had joined another group playing football. He recognized the tanned youth from earlier. He gawked slightly, wondering how he could have missed not seeing the left, missing forearm of the youth.
"He needs this."
Christopher didn't respond, and continued to watch the youth.
With a small sigh, a puff of air escaped Desmond's gills as he went back to tracking his son.
"I'll… try to be more involved. With Theo, I mean. I… I feel bad for having to put you and Oliver through his care."
Slow, methodical as he tried his best with his pronunciation.
"I don't mind it. But yes, it would be better if you were with him more."
Theo had tripped again. And now his little friend was helping him up. The little devil sneakily wiped the mud across the other boy's face and body when he did. This made him chuckle briefly.
Christopher seemed to smile.
"Do you think differently of him now?"
Desmond shrugged, his secondary arms fiddling briefly, uncertain.
"I want to." He paused.
"It's hard to, Chris. It's not the same; the way we reproduce. The… the thought that I…" Christopher remained silent, allowed him to speak no matter how slow he was at articulating.
"… it's not normal." An old argument; he'd explained this before when he was with child. Depressed and sulking, spiteful of his circumstances.
"It's only an alternative way of reproducing. I should have taught you better, more thorough."
"I don't think I would have listened." He chuckled. Christopher did not seem amused by this.
"Four more years and he will molt." That bit back any response from Desmond. He became tense, and; perhaps frightened by that statement.
"He might be different, but right now I don't think we can say for certain. He is still unique, like you."
"How?"
"I'm not entirely sure. But your scent is different, a subtle difference, but it's there."
When the evening started to darken, the area became sparse with prawns leaving to their tents. Oliver must have known his father was present, as both he and his tanned companion raced towards them. The unnamed boy made it first with a triumphant trill, whilst Oliver a mere few centimeters behind.
Christopher watched them quietly, guarded as ever, Desmond thought.
"I won!"
"I wasn't ready!" Oliver said pointedly.
"So?"
"And I still managed to catch up to you."
"Just barely," the other grinned.
"Oliver?"
He finally acknowledged his father with a whirl. His friend stood at attention, still, but somehow managed a smile.
"Father, this is Kelsey."
The youth chirped.
"He and his friends have a ball to play with, and they were nice enough to include us."
"Where are you from, Kelsey?" Christopher inquired.
"From this section, of course…"
Unaffected from the prawn's seemingly chipper state, he nodded.
"I live with my grandpa, and my brother." He shrugged.
"I see."
"Maybe he can walk with us?"
"Some other time, perhaps. It's getting late."
Oliver glanced back at Kelsey, dejected and nodded.
"Will you come out tomorrow?"
Oliver smiled briefly, "Sure."
Kelsey smiled back, and with nod to Christopher he trilled goodbye as he jogged away.
"Desmond, do you need help with Theo?"
"I'll… just need to clean him up." He called for him as he played with more mud. After a moment the boy ran after him and buried his face into his leg.
"Okay…" Desmond sighed, picking him up in his arms, looking at him.
Theo giggled and nuzzled against his chest.
"Sure, let's get daddy all dirty now." He teased lightly, walking to the outdoor showers.
Oliver joined his side, as Christopher followed behind.
"Have some fun, kid?"
Oliver glanced up, and made a small smile.
"Have you prawns ever heard of rugby?"
He shook his head.
"Now there's a fun game to play."
"What is it?"
"You mostly run about with the ball in your hands. But the other team can tackle you down. As long as your team's behind yeah, you can get the ball out again and run to the other side for a try."
Paused.
"Lot more aggressive, though… on second thought, it wouldn't be a great idea here."
He glanced at Oliver.
"Yeah, wouldn't want your antennae getting crushed in a ruck."
Oliver looked at him slightly startled and laughed.
"No, I wouldn't. But what do you mean by a ruck?"
Desmond grinned.
"Maybe after I clean him up, I'll explain it a bit better."
Inside the tent they ate. Desmond had noticed that he had developed a certain satisfaction for meat, at least in the way it ripped so easily in his mouth, the certain taste he'd acquired for fresh pieces. Since the nature of their supplies often came in cans, or packages, the fresh slabs were always eaten first to prevent them from going bad.
Sometimes the old meat had to be eaten; and they could eat it, it just wasn't the same.
Oliver finished quickly, and went through some papers and pamphlets that MNU issued out during the last inspection.
They explained it briefly themselves in person, but not all of the residents could read English.
"It must be expansions." Oliver started, quickly looking at them.
"And the resources that they mention in these."
"What kinds?" He hadn't read them. At first he thought they must have been mandated by some kind of pencil pusher working in MNU, a need to meet some kind of mandate and proof that they were on the right track.
Oliver handed him the pages he was done with.
"Some of these are just… copies from the last farce." He laughed.
Information on medical services, save for a few extra organizations he didn't recognize, and the others that had been cut off. It all echoed from the first attempts that MNU had installed.
"They've mentioned starting up working slots."
Christopher grunted.
"Think you'll start working, dad? If you could?"
"I don't know." An air of doubt surfaced, as Christopher finished off his meat.
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… TBC!