The Devil Bone
May. 20th, 2011 11:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hwrnmnbsolJoel trudged down the track, dodging the biggest and sharpest rocks in the road. Some combination of gravity and mineral anomalies made the rocks on Eschaton cleave especially sharp, and even though he wore heavy moonboots, it wouldn't do to cut up your footgear. It was minus twenty F in the sunlight, and it was only going to get colder.
The track sloped gently down toward the start of the big water. Joel struggled to keep his balance. The frost that encrusted the track made things slippery, and his balance wasn't great to begin with because of his awkward load. In his heavily-gloved right hand he carried the last of the settlement's triage packs, an aluminum case the size of a valise; his left gripped the cord of the snare that held the dagnabbit around the neck. The dagnabbit was still alive and its jumping legs kicked from time to time.
Joel picked his way gingerly down to the edge of the big water. The pack ice was solid, and the wave action of the sea was something you had to really look for under the white expanse that spread to the horizon. Only at the fishing hole was the ice thin enough to see the black water below. Joel set the triage pack down and picked up the ice auger that had been left by the last fisherman; he used it to bash through the ice until he had a clear patch of water. The big water smelled like a pickle jar, thanks to Eschaton's bizarre planetary chemistry.
Joel tossed the dagnabbit into the water. The steel weight dragged it down immediately; Joel saw that its legs were still kicking feebly as it vanished from view. Joel payed out the snare cord until he had only about twenty feet left; then he held the knot and waited. He didn't have to wait long.
There was no jerk on the line; the devil simply surfaced in the fishing hole with the cord draping out of its enormous feeding mouth. It kicked its way out of the water and dragged itself onto the ice with its many arms, then turned to face Joel with the hole between them. Its eyespots sized Joel up.
"You're new," the devil observed shrewdly.
"My name's Joel," said the human. He watched the devil with a mixture of curiosity and revulsion. It had slick, oily black skin, like a seal, and massed perhaps twice as much as a human adult. It had two mouths, a large toothy feeding orifice below a small expressive speaking mouth. The top of its head was studded with dark spots for vision and several other organs for sensing vibration and sound. It had a kind of fluke tail, and eight arms – four on each side, each black, but otherwise identical to a human's, complete with elbows and five-fingered hands with opposable thumbs.
The devil belched. "The dagnabbits are getting fatter," it said in perfect English. "The cold cycle is accelerating. In the next seventy-two hours I expect we'll see some frozen oxygen."
"Well, that's kind of why I'm here," said Joel awkwardly. He shuffled over to the triage pack and unlatched it. He dug through sterile packs and nitrile gloves until he found the small brick of Opialox. He tossed it onto the ice next to the devil; it bumped to a halt near one of its elbows. The devil didn't turn to look at it.
"We need another bone," said Joel.
"I see," said the devil. "You want to put it in your furnace-thing."
"That's right," said Joel. "It'll burn hotter. Something about the strontium uptake from the ocean waters. It catalyzes…"
"I'm not so interested in chemistry," interrupted the devil. "Sounds like you have a fuel problem. Not enough to make it through to the warming cycle eh?"
"Something like that," said Joel warily.
"I take it," continued the devil, "that when you surveyed this planet, you measured the first-order temperature cycles but didn't have any idea about the secondary waveforms."
"Sounds like math might be more interesting to you than chemistry," Joel observed drily. "You want those opiates or not?"
"That was extremely bad planning on your part," said the devil, unperturbed.
"Yes," sighed Joel. "Yes, it was. Look, Drake told me that this was the deal. The Opialox for a bone. What do you say?"
The devil fidgeted. Then it seized its front right arm with two of its left ones and yanked. The arm came out of its socket neatly, trailing a bundle of tendrils. A thin ochre fluid seeped from the socket. Joel nearly gagged.
The devil peeled the arm like a banana, pulling the large upper-arm bone out and placing it neatly on the ice. It was shaped like a human humerus but was matte black. The devil threw the rest of the arm, flesh, bones and all, into its feeding mouth. It chewed thoughtfully.
"The deal's changing," it said. "I want more."
"I don't have any more Opialox," said Joel. "This is the last of it. How we're going to make it through the next cold cycle is anybody's guess. I don't have more to give."
"You don't understand," said the devil. "I want something in addition to the stuff. Something small."
Joel didn't like the sound of that. "What might that be?"
"I want to know," said the devil, "what you taste like."
Joel's blood froze. "Fuck you," he said, picking up the auger to defend himself.
"Cut that out," said the devil. "I don't want to eat you. Not all of you. I just want a taste. A small piece of your flesh, that's all."
Joel looked at the bone. "How big a piece?" he asked, his voice seeming to come from far away.
The devil seemed to weigh the question in its mind. "One kilo," it answered.
"You're crazy," said Joel. "We don't regenerate like you do. A kilo would kill me."
"All right, then what can I get?" asked the devil. "I'm willing to negotiate."
After some back-and-forth, they agreed on a finger. Joel grimly pulled out his utility knife, then hesitated.
"I'm going to need a corner of that Opialox brick," he said. "We're not good with pain."
"Of course," said the devil magnanimously.
When it was done, and Joel had bandaged himself as best he could, the devil popped the finger in its feeding mouth. Its jaw worked.
"Hmmm," it said pensively. "Mmm, mmm, mmm. Yes. I see."
"Can I take this?" asked Joel, pointing at the bone. The Opialox was making it look swimmy around the edges.
"By all means," said the devil. Joel bent and picked up the bone. It was heavy, like a piece of lead pipe. The devil watched him with its eyespots glittering. All at once Joel felt very uneasy standing only a few paces away from a creature that knew what he tasted like. Knew, and didn't seem to disapprove.
Joel backed away from the devil. It sat passively on the ice and watched him. Joel packed up the remains of the triage pack and stood up. He turned to leave.
"Say, Joel," said the devil conversationally. "I hate the thought of you people freezing to death. Look, I'm sure we can come to some kind of agreement, with or without more Opialox."
Joel nodded, more to himself than anything else, not turning back around. "But the deal will change again, won't it?" he asked.
"We'll just have to see," said the devil.
"All right," said Joel. Still groggy, he started up the track again.
The devil watched him go. "Bring plenty of flesh next time!" it called. Then it scuttled to the edge of the hole and vanished into the dark waters below the big water's ice.
The track sloped gently down toward the start of the big water. Joel struggled to keep his balance. The frost that encrusted the track made things slippery, and his balance wasn't great to begin with because of his awkward load. In his heavily-gloved right hand he carried the last of the settlement's triage packs, an aluminum case the size of a valise; his left gripped the cord of the snare that held the dagnabbit around the neck. The dagnabbit was still alive and its jumping legs kicked from time to time.
Joel picked his way gingerly down to the edge of the big water. The pack ice was solid, and the wave action of the sea was something you had to really look for under the white expanse that spread to the horizon. Only at the fishing hole was the ice thin enough to see the black water below. Joel set the triage pack down and picked up the ice auger that had been left by the last fisherman; he used it to bash through the ice until he had a clear patch of water. The big water smelled like a pickle jar, thanks to Eschaton's bizarre planetary chemistry.
Joel tossed the dagnabbit into the water. The steel weight dragged it down immediately; Joel saw that its legs were still kicking feebly as it vanished from view. Joel payed out the snare cord until he had only about twenty feet left; then he held the knot and waited. He didn't have to wait long.
There was no jerk on the line; the devil simply surfaced in the fishing hole with the cord draping out of its enormous feeding mouth. It kicked its way out of the water and dragged itself onto the ice with its many arms, then turned to face Joel with the hole between them. Its eyespots sized Joel up.
"You're new," the devil observed shrewdly.
"My name's Joel," said the human. He watched the devil with a mixture of curiosity and revulsion. It had slick, oily black skin, like a seal, and massed perhaps twice as much as a human adult. It had two mouths, a large toothy feeding orifice below a small expressive speaking mouth. The top of its head was studded with dark spots for vision and several other organs for sensing vibration and sound. It had a kind of fluke tail, and eight arms – four on each side, each black, but otherwise identical to a human's, complete with elbows and five-fingered hands with opposable thumbs.
The devil belched. "The dagnabbits are getting fatter," it said in perfect English. "The cold cycle is accelerating. In the next seventy-two hours I expect we'll see some frozen oxygen."
"Well, that's kind of why I'm here," said Joel awkwardly. He shuffled over to the triage pack and unlatched it. He dug through sterile packs and nitrile gloves until he found the small brick of Opialox. He tossed it onto the ice next to the devil; it bumped to a halt near one of its elbows. The devil didn't turn to look at it.
"We need another bone," said Joel.
"I see," said the devil. "You want to put it in your furnace-thing."
"That's right," said Joel. "It'll burn hotter. Something about the strontium uptake from the ocean waters. It catalyzes…"
"I'm not so interested in chemistry," interrupted the devil. "Sounds like you have a fuel problem. Not enough to make it through to the warming cycle eh?"
"Something like that," said Joel warily.
"I take it," continued the devil, "that when you surveyed this planet, you measured the first-order temperature cycles but didn't have any idea about the secondary waveforms."
"Sounds like math might be more interesting to you than chemistry," Joel observed drily. "You want those opiates or not?"
"That was extremely bad planning on your part," said the devil, unperturbed.
"Yes," sighed Joel. "Yes, it was. Look, Drake told me that this was the deal. The Opialox for a bone. What do you say?"
The devil fidgeted. Then it seized its front right arm with two of its left ones and yanked. The arm came out of its socket neatly, trailing a bundle of tendrils. A thin ochre fluid seeped from the socket. Joel nearly gagged.
The devil peeled the arm like a banana, pulling the large upper-arm bone out and placing it neatly on the ice. It was shaped like a human humerus but was matte black. The devil threw the rest of the arm, flesh, bones and all, into its feeding mouth. It chewed thoughtfully.
"The deal's changing," it said. "I want more."
"I don't have any more Opialox," said Joel. "This is the last of it. How we're going to make it through the next cold cycle is anybody's guess. I don't have more to give."
"You don't understand," said the devil. "I want something in addition to the stuff. Something small."
Joel didn't like the sound of that. "What might that be?"
"I want to know," said the devil, "what you taste like."
Joel's blood froze. "Fuck you," he said, picking up the auger to defend himself.
"Cut that out," said the devil. "I don't want to eat you. Not all of you. I just want a taste. A small piece of your flesh, that's all."
Joel looked at the bone. "How big a piece?" he asked, his voice seeming to come from far away.
The devil seemed to weigh the question in its mind. "One kilo," it answered.
"You're crazy," said Joel. "We don't regenerate like you do. A kilo would kill me."
"All right, then what can I get?" asked the devil. "I'm willing to negotiate."
After some back-and-forth, they agreed on a finger. Joel grimly pulled out his utility knife, then hesitated.
"I'm going to need a corner of that Opialox brick," he said. "We're not good with pain."
"Of course," said the devil magnanimously.
When it was done, and Joel had bandaged himself as best he could, the devil popped the finger in its feeding mouth. Its jaw worked.
"Hmmm," it said pensively. "Mmm, mmm, mmm. Yes. I see."
"Can I take this?" asked Joel, pointing at the bone. The Opialox was making it look swimmy around the edges.
"By all means," said the devil. Joel bent and picked up the bone. It was heavy, like a piece of lead pipe. The devil watched him with its eyespots glittering. All at once Joel felt very uneasy standing only a few paces away from a creature that knew what he tasted like. Knew, and didn't seem to disapprove.
Joel backed away from the devil. It sat passively on the ice and watched him. Joel packed up the remains of the triage pack and stood up. He turned to leave.
"Say, Joel," said the devil conversationally. "I hate the thought of you people freezing to death. Look, I'm sure we can come to some kind of agreement, with or without more Opialox."
Joel nodded, more to himself than anything else, not turning back around. "But the deal will change again, won't it?" he asked.
"We'll just have to see," said the devil.
"All right," said Joel. Still groggy, he started up the track again.
The devil watched him go. "Bring plenty of flesh next time!" it called. Then it scuttled to the edge of the hole and vanished into the dark waters below the big water's ice.
