The Reef (21 page)

Manolin looked at her legs, which were horse-like too. She had small breasts, long black hair that was tied back. Her skin was grey.

‘We’re all right to go in now,’ Forb said.

They stepped into the darkness of the hut and Manolin noticed the immediate musky smell. Once their eyes became accustomed to the change in light, they could see the hundreds of bundles of plants, shelves on one side, with short, sealed bamboo tubes, and on them were etchings that he did not recognise. In another corner were large bundles of leaves in netting, and everything was organised in neat rows. The female ichthyocentaur cast a shadow in the doorway as she looked in. Manolin turned to her and smiled. She stepped inside. Santiago walked around the room, cautiously, being careful not to tread on any of the bundles. He knelt quickly by a sack of bulbs and one of bark chippings.

‘Everything here is categorised by usage,’ Forb said, wiping his head of sweat. ‘Each of the bamboo samples on the shelves contains relief from all sorts of medical problems, from headache to depression, anaesthetic to hallucinogenic powders. Very potent of an evening, I assure you. They even have plant extracts to test for pregnancy.’

‘By Arrahd,’ Manolin said. The female ichthyocentaur came up close to him and stared intensely at him. He grinned at her again and she stepped back. He noticed that there were several ichthyocentaurs gathered outside of the hut, and he could hear their clicking noises as they chatted amongst themselves.

‘Pregnancy?’ Santiago asked. ‘Well I never. How does it work?’

‘Simple,’ Forb said. ‘Take the powder in the tube, and a sprinkle to the urine sample, shake it around. Then, heat it and add a little more of another extract, and do the same. There’s some light-coloured bark chippings in ajar next to it and dip it in. When the back soaks it up, if it contains red streaks, there you have it-she’ll be dropping children.’

‘Amazing,’ Santiago said. ‘I’d like to see it in action.’

‘Unless you know of a likely lady, there’s not much point’

‘Still, I’d like to see the processes. Could we borrow some? I’d like to see some of the other things in action, too. Something with a bit of a kick in it.’ Manolin said, ‘We can’t take their stuff without permission. It’s pretty rude.’ Santiago glanced at Manolin, then the doctor. ‘I’m sure it will be all right, won’t it, Forb?,

Forb said, ‘Well, I’ll ask them.’

‘Splendid,’ Santiago said.

‘Anyway, we should be bringing some of the others in now. We’ve already been here ten minutes.’ Forb turned away and left the hut, the female ichthyocentaur trotting after him.

Manolin saw another of the creatures run up to the doctor, and it was carrying a cluster of some herb. It was too far away to see properly. Then they went out of sight.

Evening came suddenly, as it always did. Most of the travellers sat on the rim of the lagoon, allowing their feet to be refreshed by the cool waters. Manolin was sitting with Forb and Myranda on the edge of the lagoon, which was calm and still, and a breeze came from left to right, rippling the palm leaves behind. Myranda was wearing only a ragged brown skirt, and when she sat cross legged Manolin had to force his eyes away for politeness. She had finished giving another brief art lesson to the children. She seemed in a happy mood.

Manolin talked with Forb about the island, about the ichthyocentaurs. He was keen to learn about their histories, or as much as Forb knew. Forb did not know their origins, only that they had been there for as long as anyone knew. They had catalogued every plant on the island, even some of the other islands in the chain, but they dared not swim anywhere except a lagoon on the south coast of Arya in recent years. They had no political structure to speak of, much like the natives. Just a council of the older ichthyocentaur, and it was they who decided, after discussing some options with Forb, that they should stay away from the coast at night. That was when the deaths occurred. They were allowed to swim at selected times, and some native humans stood guard with blow-darts, bows and arrows, sharpened bamboo spears. They had survived for so long on the island, Forb assumed, because of the way they harvested and utilised plants. This was something Manolin was especially interested in. He told Forb about his keen interest ethnobotany - how tribal communities used plants in culture. That, too, was one of Forb’s reasons for coming to Arya to study. ‘I will show you my notebooks,’ he said. ‘I’ve an immense collection of data.’

Myranda was quiet whilst her partner and Manolin talked. At one point she had walked off, returned with some shells. She handed one to Manolin, who accepted it with overwhelming gratuity. Forb glanced between the two and seemed content, then he told Manolin about her background, steering the subject to what Manolin was concerned he was being too obvious about. Although Forb found her alluring, to say the least, Myranda was considered ugly by Arya’s standards. True beauty on Arya consisted of two things: large thighs and sharp teeth. A large thigh was rare, and showed that the woman was healthy and virile. Sharp teeth were handy for cutting vine and making rope. If a man had the two in a woman, he had much to be proud of. So Myranda, much to Forb’s delight, was not sought after. She was as sleek as a ray, just as graceful. On the mainland she could have found work as a high-class model or escort, and made her fortune in either. Forb knew it, and so did Manolin. Her mother had died during childbirth, her father only two years ago. She had no siblings. Forb found her charming, kind and beautiful. It was a matter of weeks before he had wed her in the local tradition. Forb had also taught her the dialect of the mainland, so her voice was satisfying no matter what she said.

Myranda and Forb’s son, Lewys, approached once again. The young lad wore just a pair of breeches that came to just below his knee, and a shell necklace. His black hair was scruffy, quivered in the wind.

‘Hello, Lewys,’ Forb said.

The boy said, ‘Hello.’

‘You’ve met Manolin, haven’t you?’

‘I haven’t, father. Hello, Manolin.’ Lewys walked up to Manolin. The boy offered his hand in such a gentlemanly manner that Manolin chuckled.

‘Hello, Lewys. Pleased to meet you.’ He shook the boy’s hand.

‘Manolin’s a nice name.’

‘Thanks,’ Manolin said. ‘It’s a lovely home you’ve got here. You’ve the beach and the forests to play with. It’s so calm and peaceful, too.’ Lewys said, ‘It’s okay, I guess. Not many other kids that I like playing with though.’

‘Lewys is quite an independent boy. He likes keeping himself to himself. He reads a lot of my books that I brought with me. I had nearly two hundred, and he’s half way through them.’ Forb ruffled the boy’s hair.

‘A boy after my own heart,’ Manolin said. ‘You remind me of when I was your age. Still, we can play a game of something tomorrow if you want, before the hunt.’

The boy looked at Manolin with keen eyes, nodded, curling up one side of his mouth in a smile that was like his fathers. He also had his mother’s feminine looks.

Manolin said, ‘And maybe you could show me some of your favourite books, too.’

‘Yes, I’d like that,’ Lewys said. ‘I could teach you to surf if you want.’

Manolin frowned. ‘Surf?’

‘Yes, like father. He could teach you with me.’

Forb glanced at Manolin, raising one eyebrow. ‘He’s good,’ he said. ‘Why not,’ Manolin said. He gave a shrug and a laugh. A bright bird came out of the forest and sailed above the beach.

‘Good,’ Lewys said. ‘I’m going to find some books to show you tomorrow morning.’ And with that, the boy ran along the beach, weaving in zigzags before disappearing into the settlement.

‘I see that both Myranda and Lewys speak like you, like on the mainland,’ Manolin said, watching the boy go.

‘Yes, yes. I think I’d go mad if these two didn’t speak like me.’ Forb touched Myranda’s arm as she looked out to sea. ‘It was inevitable that the boy would, and Myranda is pretty smart. That’s why she’s the teacher here. She occasionally slips back to the traditional form every now and again, but I just ignore her.’ Myranda turned in a mock-offended manner, pouting her thick lips, before smiling at both of the men.

Manolin thought her profile irresistible.
Stop it! This is ridiculous. She’s not yours.

The three of them watched the sun pass over, and the thin trails of clouds that tried to cover it, but failing. It was a pleasant temperature, with the wind cool, steady. The air was filled with pungency as certain species of trees opened up to breathe. Soon the natives would be cooking fish.

Manolin looked over to the rest of his group, feeling that they were further away than he remembered. For some reason he couldn’t identify, he was uninterested in how they were, or what they felt of the island. Santiago pulled Yana up off of the sand, and the two of them walked further up the shore, past the lagoon and the native settlements. They did not seem intimate in any way, nor did they seem to be arguing. Manolin wondered what they were up to. Minutes later they came back, walking several feet apart in the sand, each apparently in their own thoughts. Santiago walked to the raft, paddled out to the hut.

Then, as Manolin looked back out to sea, after supper, and after Forb and Myranda had bid him good night, his mind fluttered across a thousand ideas, as he imagined it would, given such an expanse in front of him. He sighed, tipped his head back as the usual concerns spilled into his mind like a giant wave. Maybe Myranda provoked the thoughts. Maybe it was the isolation, which forced him to think about it. It was probably both. He knew, from other journeys, that there was something about isolation that at first made you panic as you were forced to face your thoughts of life.

Santiago managed to corner the doctor before he had retired into his hut. DeBrelt had been drinking a couple of glasses of rum, which he had brought from the boat in his luggage.

‘Doc, won’t you have a drink?’ Santiago held up a beaker.

Forb was with Myranda, on the foot of his hut. He nodded to Myranda who walked inside. Forb looked to Santiago, whose eyes followed her in.

‘Santiago,’ Forb said. ‘Looks like you’ve drunk most of it.’

‘Chance’d be a fine thing. So, take a pew, let’s chat.’

They both sat down on the sand together. ‘What’s on your mind?’

‘Nothing and everything. The usual,’ Santiago said. ‘Lovely evenings, you have here.’

‘Yes, and mornings and afternoons. Very pleasing.’

‘Indeed. Lovely wife, too.’

‘Yes. I love her,dearly.’

‘Quite a perfect little set up, you have here,’ Santiago said.

‘Yes.’ Forb looked at Santiago carefully. The man was staring out to sea. ‘Many a man could be jealous of this.’

‘Me for one,’ Santiago said.

Forb assumed he would be. ‘Why so?’

Santiago said, ‘Well, you’ve everything. You’ve nothing to worry about.’

‘True. I’ve had too much to worry about in my life. Done too much on the mainland. Wanted to get away, and this is what I’ve got. Can’t argue with this place.’

‘Indeed.’

‘So, why would you be jealous, Santiago? You don’t seem to be a man who would be.’ It was at this point that Forb wondered if Santiago would actually offer him any rum, but it wasn’t important.

‘Ha. I’m not really. Well, yes I am actually.’ ‘Why?’ Forb said. ‘You’ve a good team, although I noticed a bit of tension between you and Manolin.’ ‘Yes, yes. Well, boy’s got a good future ahead of him. He just gets excited when on trips.’ ‘Futures. Forgot what those were,’ Forb said, smiling. ‘Done all I need to, you see.’

Santiago grunted something.

‘Tell me,’ Forb said. ‘I never came across any of your research when I was on the mainland. I would’ve thought at some point our paths would’ve crossed sooner.’ ‘Well, you see I never had the chance that young Manny has these days. When I did my research, I couldn’t publish it.’

‘Really?’ Forb said. He crossed his legs, sat up straight. He was always keen to discuss matters of science, and found Santiago intriguing, highly intelligent. A man that held secrets, knowledge, respect.

Santiago stared out to sea. ‘When I was studying for my Doctorate, I discovered some very unpleasant things about the government. They were polluting in such a strange way that the public never knew about. Their industry was affecting waters and air in
very
odd ways, and my research would’ve made this public knowledge. Of course, the government would only allow my Doctorate if I gave way and researched down a different line. Basically, I couldn’t win. I’m a man of principle. You know, if I’d been allowed to publish my work, I’d have been a legend.’

‘What did you do?’

‘The only thing I could-I refused my Doctorate.’

‘So, you’re not a Doctor of Science?’

‘In all but name,’ Santiago said.

The doctor slapped Santiago on the shoulder. ‘That’s not important.

You did a very admirable thing. We must talk more about this research. I’d like to know more.’ He stood up. ‘I really must get some rest though. It’s been a busy day. I’m not used to giving tours.’

Santiago stared out to sea. Forb patted him on the shoulder once again, and walked back to his hut. As he walked in he thought he heard Santiago say, ‘I could’ve been a legend.’