Chris Beckett - Dark Eden

‘What, you mean always doing the dangerous thing?’

He snorted.

‘No, of course not. That’d be nuts. I’d be dead in no time. What I mean is I’m always going to think about where I’m trying to go and what I’m trying to be, not just about what I want right then at that moment.’

I smiled and kissed him. I liked what he said. It was how I saw things too. I’d not done for any leopards, and I had no leopard-killing plans, but when I did a thing, I was always careful to check that I wasn’t just doing it because it was easier, or just doing it to avoid upsetting other people.

‘Good plan,’ I told him. ‘And I’m the same.’

‘Yeah? In what way?’

‘Well, I’m a Spiketree, and I cut my hair in spikes, and I’m spiky spiky spiky. I tell people what I think and I don’t let other people put me off doing what I think I should do. And if something scares me, I think, Yeah, but should I do it anyway?’

He smiled and nodded, and I kissed him quickly again, then pulled away.

‘Okay, Mr Leopard Killer,’ I said, ‘let’s see how long you can hold your breath then. I bet I can get more oysters than you.’

I plunged down into the bright blurry water, looking for the pinnacles of rock where the oysters clung onto ledges six seven feet below the surface, opening and closing their shining pink mouths. I grabbed handfuls from three different pinnacles and burst up to the surface again. I was flinging the oysters onto the rocky bank, when John bobbed up right next to me.

‘Ha ha! I’ve got more than . . .’ he gasped, but I’d already dived down again before he’d finished speaking, down through a big glittering shoal of tiny fish.

We built up a whole pile of oysters on the bank, then lay on the soft ground under droopy yellowlantern trees and tore them open. The oysters wheezed and fizzed as they died and we pulled out bits of the shining flesh, sometimes feeding them to each other, sometimes playfighting over them, sometimes stealing the juices from one another’s mouths and tongues.

‘Do you want some slippy, Mr Leopard Killer? Do you want a slide?’ I whispered, kissing him and putting my hand down to feel his dick. ‘You’ll have to do it the back way, though, because I don’t want a baby on my hands. I’m really not cut out for being a youngmum, stuck in Family with the blind oldies and the clawfeet and a bunch of little kids.’

I didn’t think there’d be any doubt about how he’d answer me, but I was wrong.

‘Let’s leave that for now,’ he said. ‘Let’s leave that for later on.’

Well, I was surprised surprised. Yeah and offended too. What was the matter with him? What did he think we’d come here for? There weren’t many boys in Family that would turn down an offer of a slip from me, and not many men either, judging by the way they looked at me, though Family rules said grownup men shouldn’t do that with newhair girls.

‘You been going with too many old women, John,’ I told him. ‘Like that Martha London you went with on your no-work waking. Old Martha who lost her little baby not long ago. Looks like she and the others have worn you out.’

John looked surprised that I knew. More fool him. You can’t do anything in Family without everyone knowing about it, and weighing it up, and picking it over, and making their bloody minds up about what they thought about it. I’d heard about John and Martha London from four five people and I wasn’t too pleased about it. Okay, all the boys go with oldmums when they get the chance, but I’d let him know he could have me, hadn’t I? And you’d have thought that would have been enough to keep him going a waking or two, wouldn’t you? You’d have thought he’d have saved himself for me.

‘It’s nothing to do with that,’ he said. ‘That’s different. That’s just a Family thing. It’s just . . .’

He stopped to think. In fact he ended up spending so long thinking about it that he seemed to have forgotten me entirely. Certainly, when he did speak, he didn’t show much sign that he knew why it bothered me.

‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Maybe it’s not such a good idea, going with oldmums whenever they suggest it. Maybe it’s one of those things that I was talking about: the things we do because it seems easier at the time, and we don’t . . .’

‘Yeah, whatever, but coming back to my question . . .?’

‘Well, it’s . . .’

‘Don’t you want me?’

‘Yes I do, but . . .’

He laughed.

‘Come on, you know I want you. You’ve just had your hand on my dick! I could hardly keep it inside my wrap when we were walking over here. But just now I want to eat oysters and talk about things. Is that so weird? There’s loads of things I want to talk about and not many people who would know what I meant. We could have a slip, but that would be the easy thing, the obvious thing, and maybe it would be more interesting if . . .’

‘Talk to me then,’ I said. ‘Tell me something you think only I will know what you mean.’

He pulled open another oyster, ripped out the fizzing pink meat and tossed the empty shell back into the water.

‘Well, you know what I said about why I did for the leopard. I’ve been thinking a lot about that. I’ve been thinking that that’s what we always get wrong in Family. It’s like whenever we get a choice like that, we always run to the tree, and we’ve been doing that so long that it’s become what Family is: a thing that hides away from anything scary and waits for help to come.’

‘So what would we do if we were different?’

‘Well . . .’ He hesitated here, like he himself was in two minds about what he was going to say next. ‘Well, I don’t think we’d live in a huddle round Circle of Stones, waiting for Earth to come and fetch us back.’

‘Don’t you think Earth will come, then?’

He looked at me sharply.

‘No, I’m not saying that. Of course not. They’ve got to come sooner or later. I’m just saying that we shouldn’t just spend our lives waiting for them in the same spot, and dreaming about going back to Earth. People say we must be good good, and make sure that Earth will like us when they come, so that they’ll want to take us back. But they’d like us better, wouldn’t they, if we tried to live like Earth people? Finding stuff out, trying new things, making things better. What’s there to like about a Family that huddles up in one place wake-dreaming, and won’t budge even if that means starving or drowning?’

I laughed at that idea.

‘Not much,’ I agreed.

‘And anyway,’ he said, ‘it’s not as if there’s any reason to think Earth will come any time soon. Okay, we know the Three Companions went back to Defiant , and we reckon they’d have taken Defiant back through Hole-in-Sky. But there was something wrong with Defiant , wasn’t there? It was damaged when Angela and Michael tried to catch it in the Police Veekle. And the True Story tells us that the Three Companions knew the chances were against Defiant getting back in one piece, or them getting back alive. I mean, that’s why Tommy and Angela stayed, isn’t it? So that at least some life would carry on?’

I nodded. ‘And it’s been two hundred wombtimes, so something must have gone wrong or they could have mended Defiant and come back long ago. But even if the Three Companions died and Defiant was too damaged to be mended, it still might well have got back to Earth. You know, like a boat drifts back to the shore. And . . .’

‘And Earth would have found out what happened from the Rayed Yo and the Computer. Yes, I know all that. But it would take them a long time to build a new starship. They say that first one took them thousands of years.’