Chapter 8: When It Rains

Cal was awoken by a growl, sitting up in his tent groggily. He fumbled blindly for his camping lamp, turning it on to see Kevin staring intently at the zipped-up flap, his tusks bared. Something was bothering the hound.

“What is it, Kev?” he asked, suddenly feeling far more awake. His rifle was beside his bivvy bag, so he reached for it, feeling the comforting weight of the barrel in his hand. He couldn’t hear much of anything above the torrential rain that was pounding the fabric, the fat droplets creating shadows as they landed. It was a good thing they had chosen to make camp on higher ground today. If they’d been closer to the river, a flash flood could have been catastrophic. At least Poppy couldn’t drown, based on what she had told him about Jarilan respiratory systems.

There was a sudden crack of thunder loud enough that Cal could feel it reverberate through his very marrow, Kevin lurching and flattening his ears against his head, letting out a whine.

“Is that what’s bothering you, boy?” Cal asked as he reached over to give the dog a reassuring pat on the flank. “Come on, you weigh like two hundred pounds, you big baby.”

He guided the hound’s massive skull into his lap and gave him a scratch, Kevin exhaling dramatically. Suddenly, Kevin lifted his head again, another low growl emanating from him. Cal waited for another crack of thunder, but none came. Instead, something brushed against the left side of the tent, leaving a brief shadow and an indent in the fabric.

Cal gripped his rifle, Kevin rising to a sitting position, the dog’s eyes fixed on the zipper as it began to move. It started slowly, then grew faster, the sound of it audible even over the storm. A moment later, a pair of long, soaking-wet antennae poked through the flap.

“Hey, Cal?” Poppy asked as her head followed behind them. “You awake?”

“I fucking am now,” he replied with a sigh of relief, setting his rifle back down. “Damn it, Poppy. I thought you were a backstabber or something.”

“You think backstabbers can work zippers?” she asked.

“Come inside and close the damned flap, would you? You’re letting all the heat in.”

She wriggled her way into the tent, closing the zipper behind her. There was barely enough room for Cal and Kevin together, but Poppy was so small that she took up very little space, sitting down on the floor at the foot of his bivvy bag.

“You’re soaked to the bone,” Cal said. “You want a towel or something?”

She nodded, and he tossed her one – the Worker using it to dry her antennae in the same way a woman might dry the locks of her hair.

“What brings you to my tent this fine evening?” Cal asked sarcastically, gesturing to the rain that was pounding the tent. “Did your burrow flood or something? Is everything okay?”

“It’s nothing like that,” she began, seeming to hesitate for a moment. “I just-”

There was another crash of thunder loud enough to shake the ground, Kevin and Poppy lurching in tandem, the little Worker’s newly dry antennae bobbing in the air. Kevin flattened his ears and pressed low to the ground, while Poppy opened one eye, glancing up at the roof of the tent warily.

“No way,” Cal sighed. “Kevin has an excuse – he’s a dog. You’re not actually scared of storms, are you?”

“Hey, I don’t usually spend this much time above ground!” she protested as she crossed her four arms defensively and pouted at him. “I’m not scared of storms, alright? I’m just ... usually underground when they happen. They’re not normally this loud.”

“You’ve never been above ground during a storm?”

“Why would I be?” she scoffed. “They’re wet and unpleasant and ... very loud...”

“Fine, you can stay,” he conceded with a gesture to the tent. “As long as you don’t mind sharing with this idiot,” he added with a nod to the panting hound. “He’s probably gonna keep us both up all night because he’s being a giant baby.” Cal gave the dog a gentle shove, making the fatty hump on his back wobble. “Just don’t make a habit of it. Murzka might feel left out, and lord knows there’s not enough space in here for her as well. I wonder how she’s faring up in her tree?”

“I could dig a burrow large enough for all of us,” Poppy suggested, crawling closer on all-sixes.

“Thank you for the offer, but I’ll sleep in a hole when I’m dead,” he grumbled.

She sat down between him and Kevin, using her two right arms to pet the dog, his presence seeming to comfort her.

“I don’t really like sleeping alone,” she admitted. “I kind of ... miss my sisters. I know I told you that I didn’t, but I haven’t been away from them for this long before.”

“I thought you were all excited about being a sherpa?” Cal asked.

“I am!” she replied hurriedly. “It’s an adjustment, is all. Besides, I ... didn’t want you guys to think I wasn’t suited for the job. A good sherpa isn’t supposed to get homesick.”

“Poppy, you’re a great sherpa,” Cal replied. “Seriously. I’ve been on expeditions where we used ATVs that could carry less gear than you. A couple of dozen of you guys could probably move an entire prefab, and I could ride it around like a palanquin.”

“What’s a palanquin?” she giggled.

“It’s like a throne that people used to carry,” he replied.

“You really think I’m a good sherpa?”

“I rate you very highly on the sherpa scale. I’d give you a nine-point-five. I’m knocking off half a point for drinking all my juice.”

“There’s no sherpa scale,” she replied with a smirk.

They waited in silence for a few minutes, though it wasn’t an awkward one, anticipating the next rumble of thunder. When it came, Poppy jumped again, but she seemed less frazzled with Kevin beside her.

“It’s your shell, isn’t it?” Cal asked. “You heard the stampeding mossgrazers before I did, too. I’m guessing the way your body picks up sound makes you sensitive to low frequencies.”

“That’s about the long and short of it,” she replied. “It’s very useful for navigating underground, but it’s a little bothersome when things get loud.”

“And you can’t really plug your ears if your entire exoskeleton is your ear.”

She nodded, giving Kev’s coarse fur another stroke.

“Do you miss your rancher friends on Franklin?” she asked after a few moments of quiet punctuated only by raindrops hitting the tent. “It’s just that ... you always seem to talk about them when the opportunity arises. You said that sitting around the campfire with me and Murzka reminded you of them.”

“I guess I do,” he replied with a shrug, listening to the storm. With only the dim lamp to light the tent, it gave their little pocket of safety a kind of cozy, comfortable feel. “It was the first time I’d done fieldwork with such a large team, even if they technically weren’t helping me with the science. We still shared a lot of responsibilities and had to rely on each other. They looked out for me, and I came to depend on them.”

“It was mostly just you and Kevin out on your own before that?”

“I did a lot of solo work,” he replied, lying back onto his bivvy bag. “Even when I was working with a small team or a few local contacts, I had a lot of autonomy and I could go out on my own – do things at my own pace. I liked it that way ... I think.”

“You don’t sound so sure.”

“Well, I spent a long time traveling with the ranchers,” he replied. “A whole year. You can throw someone into basically any situation, and they’ll adapt to it, provided they have enough time. Almost anything can become the new baseline and start to feel normal. After that, I was on the liner for another half a year.”

“And that was the opposite,” Poppy mused. “You went from living in a group to being alone.”

“So, I sympathize,” he continued. “You don’t have to put on a brave face for us, Poppy. If you’re feeling lonely or you’re missing your sisters, just say so, and maybe we can help.”

“The same goes for you,” she replied.

“Me?”

“The way I see it, all three of us are playing a similar game,” she explained. “I miss my sisters, but I didn’t want you guys to think I was a bad sherpa. You miss the ranchers, but you want to be seen as some stoic outdoorsman who goes it alone – probably to impress Murzka. I’m sure she’s missing her pack, too, but she’ll be too wrapped up in being the best to show it.”

“Perceptive,” Cal muttered, giving her an appreciative glance.

“Hey, I’m a social insect,” she replied haughtily. “Why don’t we just stop posturing and make the expedition a little easier on everyone in the process?”

“When you put it like that, I guess it does sound a little immature,” Cal conceded. “I don’t really want to be the guy who has to talk to Murzka about it, though. I’m kind of relieved that she won’t be able to overhear his conversation over the storm.”

“Listen, I barely know her any better than you do,” the Worker complained. “It’s not like we were on the same work crew before you arrived – I’d maybe met her twice. She’s already making you her little apprentice, so just stay the course.”

“What do you mean by that?” Cal asked, furrowing his brow.

“Dude,” Poppy sighed, rolling her eyes in a remarkably human gesture. “How dense are you? Why do you think she’s showing you how to find medicinal plants and teaching you how to fish?”

“Because it’s her job,” Cal replied, confused by her reaction. “She’s a guide, Poppy.”

“Now I see that you’re the brains of this outfit,” Poppy said, whispering to Kevin. “Think, dummy,” she continued as she turned back to Cal. “What did she tell you about packs the other day? Araxie packs – not the ones you carry.”

Cal shrugged, eliciting another sigh from the exasperated Jarilan.

“Araxie will identify those who show promise and teach them by bringing them into the pack for a time – sharpen them like a whetstone. Remember? She’s starting to respect your skills now, and she’s taking you under her wing. She wants to teach you what she knows.”

“Oh, right,” Cal mumbled as it dawned on him. “I compared it to an apprenticeship, didn’t I?”

“Right,” Poppy replied with a fervent nod. “She’s already started to form her own little pack – it’s what they do. Put them in any new situation with new people, and they’ll establish a hierarchy, because they’re not secure and comfortable without one. It’s kind of like ... a soldier not knowing who’s in command.”

“And she’s done that by establishing me as her apprentice? I suppose I should be flattered that she respects my skills enough to want to share some of her own, but I dunno about the whole Alpha thing. Seems a bit presumptuous. You guys were assigned to help me, after all.”

“What, you think you should be Alpha instead?” Poppy scoffed. “Honey, Murzka is four hundred pounds of lean muscle with a clear two feet on you. She’s been hunting for as long as she could hold a bow, and I’ve seen her pick you up and carry you like luggage. Don’t get me wrong – you’re no slouch when it comes to surviving in the wild, but that woman could tie you into a knot if she wanted to. Stop blushing – that’s not a euphemism.”

“Poppy!” he grumbled, the Worker snickering at his flustered expression. “I’m just saying – it’s still my expedition.”

“And she’ll respect that,” Poppy insisted. “It’s not about who makes the decisions – it’s more ... social than that. I’ve lived around Araxie for a while now, so you can trust that I know what I’m talking about.”

“Yeah, I trust you,” he sighed. “What do you think I should do?”

“Just be a good student,” she replied, pausing to scratch Kevin’s ear. “Listen to her and demonstrate that you’re absorbing the information. Maybe you can teach her a few tricks yourself.”

“What about you?” Cal asked. “Where are you in the pack hierarchy?”

“I’m doing my job just fine,” she chuckled. “I don’t think she sees the same potential in me. I’m a Worker – you’d need a Drone to shoot backstabbers.”

“Sounds like the storm is letting up a little,” Cal added, glancing up at the roof of the tent. “It’s still raining like a mother, but there’s been no thunder for a while.”

“Do you want me to go back to my burrow so you can get some sleep?” Poppy asked hesitantly.

“Are you kidding? You’d get soaked again. You can stay if you want to.”

“Thanks, Cal,” she said with a smile.

“You could use that towel as a pillow, or just lie on Kev – he won’t care. I’m gonna grab some shuteye,” he added, shifting his weight to get comfortable on his bivvy bag. “We have a lot more walking to do tomorrow.”

Cal awoke to the sound of a zipper, opening his eyes to see Poppy clumsily trying to creep her way out of the tent.

“Sorry,” she whispered. “Did I wake you?”

“It’s about time I got up anyway,” he replied, suppressing a yawn. “Come on, Kev. Go pee.”

Poppy opened the flap the rest of the way and let the dog out, the pair following after him. They emerged to find Murzka already tending a crackling fire amidst the damp ferns, her cloak draped over her shoulders. Everything was still wet after the previous night’s downpour, droplets of water falling from the branches above intermittently, the mist thick enough to mask the sky from view as though a gray canopy had been pulled over the world. The Araxie glanced up at them from beneath the shadow of her cowl, tilting her head curiously.

“Good morning,” she began, stoking the fire with a branch. “I trust that the storm did not deprive you of rest?”

“Oh, no,” Cal stammered as he realized what the two of them emerging from the same tent must look like. “Thanks, but we were fine. Poppy was just...”

“It was the rain,” the Worker added hurriedly. “I thought my burrow might flood, so I went to Cal’s tent for shelter.”

“How did you fare?” Cal asked, quickly changing the subject. “I don’t envy you – being up in the trees when that storm was happening. I’d be worried about getting blown out of bed or struck by lightning.”

“Such storms are not uncommon here,” she replied nonchalantly. “One learns to tolerate them.”

“I guess if you’re always expecting to be wet, it’s not so bad,” Cal said. “You guys want me to hustle up some breakfast?”

“I still have ample stores of rations, but I would not object,” Murzka replied as she lifted her hood and shook out her dark hair. Cal couldn’t help but flash back to the evening prior as he saw her black fur catch the light – when she had held him close against her chest, the texture of her coat...

“I’ll have some juice,” Poppy added, snapping him out of it. “Can’t let my place on the sherpa scale get too high.”

“Sure,” he replied, moving over to the pack.

He began to prepare some MRE courses and mix a drink for Poppy, sitting down near Murzka as he waited for the packets to heat. He didn’t dare get too close to the Araxie, but he wasn’t sure why. Was he intimidated by her, as Poppy was always teasing, or was it something else? Poppy took up a seat on the other side of him, sipping at her drink contentedly, her eyes wandering between her two companions as though she expected him to say something.

When the food was ready, he handed one of the packets to Murzka, the Araxie giving it a suspicious sniff. She fished inside the cardboard sleeve and pulled out her meal, using her claws to peel open the packaging, keeping her more sensitive paw pads clear.

“What is this?” she asked, prodding at the sesame seed bun.

“That is a bacon cheeseburger,” Cal replied proudly, watching as she lifted the bun to examine the strands of melted cheese beneath. “Now, I’ll grant you that some pan-fried bacon and a patty grilled over a good charcoal fire would be a totally different experience from something cooked with a flameless ration heater, but we’ll work our way up to that. If the human species had a staple food, it would probably be cheeseburgers.”

“What are these green disks?” she asked, ever suspicious.

“Pickles,” Cal replied. “It’s part of the flavor profile, so just give it a try.”

She gave it a bite, her ears starting to twitch again, Poppy stifling a giggle at the sight.

When they were done with breakfast, they packed up their gear, Cal stowing his tent and strapping it to Poppy’s pack. Murzka led the party, heading off into the forest to scout ahead, leaving her companions alone.

“Why were we acting so sketchy back there?” Cal asked, keeping his voice low in case Murzka was still in earshot.

“What do you mean?” Poppy hissed, picking up on his caution. “I wasn’t acting sketchy!”

“Yes you were! We both looked like a couple of kids who just got caught sneaking out after dark! Murzka probably thought we were hiding something. Worst lying I’ve ever seen.”

“If I was acting sketchy, it’s only because I didn’t want her to find out that I was scared of the storm last night,” Poppy whispered. “That wasn’t what you were doing?”