Gudsriki (34 page)

Vibs was about to make a very rude remark but thought the better of it and did as asked. They removed their microwaves and other technologies, and placed them in the bin. The bin receded into the wall as another bin emerged from the right wall, holding a small handwritten slip of paper and two dead animals. With little understanding and less patience Vibs looked at the paper and read it aloud.

“‘Numerous barbaric weapons, two tasteless uniforms.' And they gave us… dead seals.”

Nel examined one of the seals. It was actually several dead seals, robbed of their innards and sewn together, just skin and blubber.

“These appear to be our new clothes.”

“And they call us barbarians?”

They dressed in their new gruesome garb and had to admit it was warm, well fitting, and only smelled half as bad as they expected. The speakers barked out again.

“Enjoy your stay, and stay briefly.”

The inner doors opened to reveal a lobby of ancient nautical design. It was again all wood and metal, dripping with raw sea water from the outside, soaked in the smells of sea life and sea food. It was terrible to behold but still carved with extraordinary skill. The wood held decorations and embellishments depicting ancient ships with billowing sails, modern boats and submarines, and many designs that were utterly unfamiliar, extinct sea mammals and bizarre devices.

Standing at the intersection of several tunnels was a sculpture of a Cetacean. Neither had ever seen what one looked like out of armor. The sculpture seemed made of some sort of soft plastic, gray and translucent. It was vaguely humanoid in shape but with distinctly oceanic features. Huge eyes on the sides of its head, all cornea and no whites. There were fin structures all over it, and intricately sculpted webs between the long fingers that held a spear, which seemed more a decorative or honorific spike than a weapon. Nel saw the statue move an instant before it spoke and revealed itself not to be a sculpture at all.

“You are impolite to stare,” it said. It took the two a moment to understand that this was a person.

“Sorry, we're… we're from the surface.”

“That much is obvious.”

They were still staring. They were taken by how perfectly still the guard stood, and by how far from human he—they thought it was a he—had come.

“Can you direct us to someone in charge?”

“I am the guard marshal of this deck. I answer directly to the city administration, who are not available this week.”

“Is there any sort of casual meeting place where we might find, uh—
”

“The Taravana Tavern is two decks down, but if I may be so bold, you should probably avoid it. Your manners will have you ejected within seconds. May I ask what you need?”

“Valkohai.”

“Oh Vellamo, you might as well ask to be harpooned. Nobody in the tavern would excuse such a slip of etiquette as to say that name in public. Were you not young enough to be thrown back, even I would…. Well….”

“Where in this village could we say it and not get harpooned?”

“The Bilge Tank.”

“Is that another tavern?”

“No, it is the bilge tank.”

“Please, will you tell us where to go?”

“So you humans can say please. I have little to offer, but if you're looking for pirates and fairy tales of so dark a nature, you belong in LeChuck's Groggery. Benthic level, all the way south. Be warned the clientele is not so polite as I am. Hmm, perhaps you'll get along there. Try not to get killed.”

“Perfect, thank you.”

“You are most welcome. Do be careful.”

They walked south only to realize they didn't know how to descend through the decks. They found some hatches marked
Portaat
or
Hissi
or
Silmäpako
but nothing that looked like a way down. They had elected to return and ask the guard when one hatch opened. Several Cetaceans of varying colors and skin patterns spilled out, moaning to each other in a mess that sounded like an orgy of dying cats and drunken nymphomaniac lemurs. They were far more surprised to see humans than the humans were to see them. They all stopped and stared. One moved closer, inspecting them carefully, then stood up straight and shouted in stilted English.

“Howdy there! How is it hanging!”

The rest broke out into laughter, a vocalization recognizable in any species or language. The drunken quintet wandered on their way laughing and making moaning or shrieking sounds. The hatch remained open and revealed stairs. They took them down. And down. The air pressure grew bends-worthy. They came to the bottom and found it without a floor, just a puddle on cold consolidated sediments. Having clearly hit bottom they opened the hatch.

This deck smelled worse than all before it. The walls were in disrepair and the rock floor held enough standing water to run an algae farm, which Vibeke thought may well have been behind one of the doors. They headed south through dim tunnels and past dubious doors with carvings of skeletons and knives, mermaids holding split tails, and on one double door, a morbidly obese human holding an anchor. As they continued they became aware of a noise. It was mostly Cetacean moans, but there were also human vocalizations. All in Suomi from what they could tell, but some words filtered through.

They came to the Groggery. It had the same effect as upturning a rock to find larger, nastier bugs than one presumed to lurk there. There were Cetaceans singing and moaning, dressed in crab shell armor or other dead animals. There were about ten humans there too, but not anyone their age or gender. These men were bearded, fat, and had only seven legs between them. Most wore Cetacean clothing. Some didn't wear anything. But they belched out words, moans and fragments of songs like the Cetaceans. One table was singing a lively Suomi shanty until they noticed the newcomers.

Suddenly silence took over the crowd, and all stared at the two girls. Vibeke tried to think of something to say. She came up short and stated their goals.

“Valkohai?”

Nel cringed. All the human men cringed. All the Cetaceans were in shock; one dropped its glass. Then alcohol broke the silence as one human shouted, “You are not!”

There was laughter but not easy drunken laughter all around. This was sinister laughter, the kind that resounds upon seeing an injured gladiator thrown to lions. One tall and buff Cetacean stood up from his barstool and approached them. He was covered in checkered tribal tattoos.

“You want the Valkohai?”

“Yes,” said Vibeke.

“You know what you're getting into?”

“More or less.”

“Sit with me.”

The crowd broke into more laughter, insane and angry laughter that had a near Geki-like effect on Vibs. The Cetacean put one wet hand on each of their shoulders and took them to a table in a dark corner of the Groggery.

“You asked for Sharks, my good chum. Perhaps I can lure one for you if you're willing to bleed a little.”

Vibeke and Nel sat on barrels and listened to the Cetacean.

“You know of course that the Valkohai are a myth.”

“So we've heard.”

“Then why seek them?”

“Important business. World in the balance. That sort of thing.”

“Naturally. Well, let me put things in perspective for you. Have you heard of a clan topside, the Hall of the Slain?”

“We're familiar with it,” they said together.

“But being clever, clearly intelligent apes you don't believe in such things for real, do you?”

They stayed silent.

“Or do you believe in invincible fighters who come back from the dead sporting giant living insects inside their chests that fight crime and keep the world in balance?”

“What if we do?”

“No wonder you believe in our equivalent. Let me explain something to you that every Cetacean knows. You can't fit a giant living bug in your chest. You have lungs there. We know it because we remove one to have gills. It's a myth, it's false. A lie to keep children in order. Just like the Valkohai. You should know the Valkohai are a fake because they say they only eat when they catch a human topside to feast on. Have ye ever heard of anyone eaten by a Valkohai? No? Right. There's a secret Cetacean army just like you can have a large louse in your lungs. There isn't.”

Vibeke ejected her Tikari and set it to land on the Cetacean's arm.

“It's more of a ladybug. Now why don't you take us to the Valkohai?”

The Cetacean sat still, as still as the guard for a moment.

“What do you want with the Valkohai?”

“To give them a means to flood the entire planet in exchange for dealing with a monster that you Cetaceans unleashed on the Earth.”

“What means and what monster?”

“The Ares device and Loki Turunen.”

“Loki Turunen?”

“Calls himself Veikko now.”

Tull cringed at the name. He stared at them with his small air eyes. He stood and walked to a human at the bar. The human man looked back at them, then spoke again to the Cetacean. Then the human left.

Vibeke returned Bob to her chest with a pang of guilt. She'd used him as she normally would, but it was harder now with Nel in existence to think of her own bug as a body part. Knowing that it could think the same way, given a brain. She wondered for a moment what it would be like to meet Bob, him in her body with her cloned brain. She vowed to use him as little as possible, to keep him inside her chest.

The Cetacean returned and whispered.

“Solomon's gonna get someone you oughta meet. They might be a while, maybe more than a day. I'm gonna let you stay with me tonight. I have a guest berth I'll set up for you, and then you'll meet… someone. But only if you explain something to me.”

“Shoot.”

“How the
vitussa
do you fit bugs in your chests?”

Vibeke explained her sternum, and the Cetacean showed them the path to his boathouse. He took them out of the Groggery, through a northwesterly hall and up some stairs, through an unlocked gate and into a long thin strand of kelpy clear paneling that revealed the outside sea. They were headed out of the city into one of the suburbs. The strand split again and again, growing capillary thin as they ventured farther from the main arteries and came to their destination: one of the little tin cans in the boondocks.

“Come back here tonight and blow this whistle.”

He took a boatswain's whistle from the side of his door and blew three notes on it, showing Vibeke the hand placements. Then he stepped inside.

“Get some food in yaselves. You may have a long trip tomorrow. Food and drink are free anywhere you go, but I wouldn't go far shallow. Humans are half
kielletty
, and you're a rude couple of humans.”

He closed the door in their faces.

 

 

T
HE
SUB
was cramped beyond description. Kaunan team was scrunched together painfully.

“We should've taken the outdoors. T only has three people.”

“Shush, the fish could be listening.”

“Shit, piss, fuck, cunt, cocksucker, motherfucker, and tits…. No, they're not listening.”

Katana laughed. “I thought your eyes were gonna burst.”

“You need more sedatives in your suit.”

“It's not my fault these fish are fucking supercilious.”

“That's a big word for you, K.”

“Eat shit, Kat.”

“Just let me do the talking when we get there.”

“Oh trust me, I'm not saying another word to these fucking fishwives.”

The boat docked at Pohjanlahti Kylä and disgorged the team.

“We start at the top and ask every public house about our girls. We stick together. No way I'm waiting for anyone in this maze.”

They hit the customs office and were greeted by a shriek.

“We're humans.”

“Antakaa aseenne ja vaatteenne, kiitos.”

“English-speaking humans.”

“Please place your weapons and clothing in the provided tray.”

“Bitch, I'll strip for you, but you can have my Tikari when you suck it from my cold dead ass.”

The other three rolled their eyes. The speaker went silent for a moment.

“Your Tikari?”

“It's Suomi. For dagger. Bitch.”

“Yes—Yes, sir, I speak Suomi.”

“Well whupty shit.”

“Sir, that's not necessary. If you require your Tikari, I'm sure that—
”

“I require it.”

“Y-yes, sir. You may keep your dagger.”

“Tikari.”

“Yes, sir.”

Kabar stowed his dead blade back in its sheath and took off his clothes, as did the rest. They got their sealskins and Kabar kept his belt.

“What the fuck are these?”

“Your clothing, sir.”

“These are dead seals.”

“Yes, sir, from Hugo Bass.”

Kabar spit on the wall and pulled on his new clothing. They took their receipts and entered the superstructure. Their entry point held several shops and eateries. They began with the first to the left on the top floor of the open atrium, the farthest point in the entire colony from the Groggery.

 

 

T
HOUGH
THE
Groggery didn't seem the friendliest place, it had a trait Vibeke recognized. If you sat down to eat there, people knew to leave you alone. It also had humans and was thus proven at least not to kill them on sight or some such thing. So they returned.

Vibeke and Nel sat at the bar and asked what the place had to drink.

“Grog.”

“I'll just have water, then,” said Vibeke.

“Said we had grog. Didn't say we had water.”

“You don't serve water?”

“I can open a portal.”

“I'll have two grogs, then.”

The bartender filled two greasy metal cups with green fluid from a tap and set them sloppily on the table.