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whatevenismyaestheticidk · 4 years

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Things I’ve heard high schoolers say pt 3

Person: it’s to early for me to be alive right now

Teacher: who invented math? Student: Lincoln.

Teacher: You feel as if you get low marks on this 5 paragraph essay you’ll end up poor and homeless and addicted to drugs. Student 1: Yes. Student 2: That’s exactly how it works. Student 3: I mean… you’re not wrong.

Student: It’s called panic and I do it well. I do it very well.

Student 1: I need to get glasses. Student 2: I need to get a will to live.

Student: Physics eats brains for lunch and sucks ass for dinner.

Student: Fuck you Perry the platypus!!

Student: he’s an Asian white supremisist. How does that even happen.

Teacher: After treating him like dirt for 7 years what is he to me? Student 1: Friends? Student 2: Lovers?

Teachers: We can’t have poor people running the place, that’s stupid.

Teachers: It was illegal to be alone because when you are alone you commit a sin.

Student: They play with your intestines? Like jumprope???

Student 1: you make me want to kill myself Student 2: Bitch please! I’ve been making myself want to kill myself for years.

Teacher: If you’re in my class don’t be acting the fool

Student: that’s it! You’ve lost your titty privileges

Student: I have the bladder of an octopus please let me go to the bathroom

Teacher: America broke up with Britain through text and by telling all of their friends but not actually telling Britain.

Student: my peripheral vision up is about as good as a fucking snail’s.

Student: I am allergic to myself.

Student: she brought my coconut juice. I’m going to cry.

Student: my name is Bitch.

Student: my elevator is literally a vsco girl

Student 1: what do you think? Student 2: I think I’m a fucking slut.

Student 1: I look like a lightbulb Student 2: A cute lightbulb. 10/10 would screw you (in)

Teacher: No one likes Axe, but its your friend.

Student: I am a flaming homosexual and that is why I want to dye my hair pink in honor of the women that I love so much

Student: oh my god it’s Michael fucking Jackson! *screams*

Student: Im 16 but not even very much 16.

Teacher: Theres a reason my cousin Neil trades three shifts of paramedic work so he doesn’t have to work on the night of the full moon.

Student: I know it sounds scary running from the police but it’s actually just leisurely walking away from them.

Student: I was washing my hands after lunch and this guy just started bleeding out next to me.

Student: I’m just saying, I would wear a full out prom dress to school and no one could stop me.

Student: I have the strength of a roasted peanut.

Student 1: Avacodo’s are thicc though. If there was a sexiest food event then avocado would win hands down. Student 2: what about peaches Student1: I would 100% fuck an avocado.

Student: chicken nuggets re the dad bod of the food world.

Student: in conclusion: gay.

Student: Hey Mr (Teacher) can you please elaborate on your outfit choice today?

Teacher: Dueling? You know the 10 paces fire? The thing that Hamilton is known for but he was a lot better at?

Teacher: Dreams are kinda wack Student: But this is another level of wack.

Student 1: Im just saying you could totally suck a dick by mistake. Student 2: How? Student 1: Like if you’re watching a movie and he’s holding a soda bottle between his legs and you want a sip but it’s dark you could totally accidentally suck a dick.

Student 1: hurry the fuck up Student 2: that is not how you treat people, you need to have some respect. You say PLEASE hurry the fuck up.

Student: You know, Stockholm syndromes. Like when someone is kidnapped and then catches feelings for their master, daddy kinks, that kinda shit.

Student: IF I were to eat Donalt Trump’s ass it would be so white I’d get retinal cancer just from looking at it.

Student: You were texting her which made us loose the quizlet live game! She is a whore!

Teacher: you’re a dirty old man, you read the script

Student: you’re my hwb. Homies with benefits.

Student 1: I’m a shell 2: I’m a crab. 3: what do crabs do to shells 2: I’m going to go live and eat inside you then eventually leave you for another

Student: Ayyyy!! We’re getting mono!!

Student: Stop catching feelings you dumb emotionally suicidal bitch!!!!

Teacher: *Student’s name* you need to find friends who love you.

Student: Is that a kneecap? *fake cough* Slut. *fake cough*

Teacher: Yah Buccanan was our first gay president. Student: But he was a Democrat! Teacher:… you DO know that people can be gay and a democrat.

Student: This whole book was just a giant KFC commercial.

Student: he other day I tried to zoom in on a book.

Student: every time I head an Indian person talk it’s like they’re raping me but in a good way.

Student: You canned corn of a human.

Student: you look like a broken piano

Student: There’s no room for Jesus! I don’t want to see him!

Student 1: Tiger sharks are the goats of the ocean. Student 2: Wrong. I’m the goat of the ocean.

Student: Florida is the Bermuda Triangle of stupid shit.

Student: Jesus has a plan for me, and I don’t think it’s in his textbook of an agenda.

Student: did you talk to her? Because I’m pretty sure blowing up a school is frowned upon.

Student: and that’s on period no tampon.

Student 1: what would your stripper name be? Student 2: Ruby. Teacher who over heard: Excuse me. Teacher here, stripper conversation over there. Please move the inappropriate conversation somewhere where I can’t hear it. Vanilla Pudding. (the thing about this one, was she was telling us that in the past, her stripper name was Vanilla Pudding)

Student: (Different student’s name), if I told you that I was possessed last night would you believe me?

Student: (Teacher) I was possessed last night, is there, like, biology to support that?

Student: Could I theoretically live forever if I drank infinite 5 hour energies.

Teacher: I have more glue sticks I just don’t put them out because the freshman eat them.

Student: drinking chocolate milk isn’t good for you it just like tragic.

Student: who do people even get stds, I can’t even get dms

Student: Tell me you’re kidding. Tell me you did not find my house by looking at snap maps. YOU HAVE MY ADDRESS!!!

Student: Hey you lived in Africa right? Does that mean you can say the n word?

Student: Someone threatened to open up my chest, piss in it, and close it back up.

Student: For how good I am at catching feelings, you’d think I’d be better at sports.

Student 1: I’m a Taurus. Student 2: I thought you were gay.

Student: So if I ate a tide pod then ate a t-shirt what would happen?

Student: Buddhism is just a series of vibe checks until eventually one works.

Student: why does bugs bunny have so much cleavage??

Student: Don’t underestimate snoopy you fucking heathen.

Teacher: So what you’re saying is when the okay boomer generation dies we won’t be racist anymore?

Student: Venus is in retrograde and that’s why Im not dealing with your bullshit.

Student: What is wrong with you. No sincerely. What made you think that eating a green banana is okay.

Teacher: You know Up? In the movie there’s this dog and when he’s talking then he’ll turn and say squirrel. That’s like me. I think I have adhd.

Student: you absolute tea drinking taxes liberal.

Student 1: if you see my cat run. She’s psycho. Student 2: Can I run her over with my tires?

Student 1: I will drive us through the gates of Shaw and into the water. Student 2: I hope we blow up underwater.

Student 1: Juxpositioning my rain boots with my lingerie. Student 2: those rhyme. Wait no they don’t!

Student: when he says he has a tenor recorder, but really we all know he only has a soprano recorder.

Student 1: you’re shoelaces are untied Student 2: I know. I hope I trip on it and die. Student 3:I felt that

Student: Every time I see a 9/11 ad I always pretend to have a panic attack.

Students chanting: Eat the rich. Eat the rich. Student 2: Rich, more like Bitch.

Student 1: UWU I’m going to lock you in my gas chamber Student 2: Primes flame thrower UWU

Student: I’m not Like other girls. I die on command

Studrnt1: Turkey bitch Student 2: she just called you a turkey bitch Student 1: yes you specifically are a Turkey bitch

Student: I will eat a bitches dick. Gobble gobble motherfucker.

Student 1: he opens my snaps in 10 seconds Student 2: that’s love

Student 1: My for you page is almost exclusively gays, theatre, and Percy Jackson at this point. Student 2: Those are all the same thing basically.

Student: I would have kicked so much ass freshman year if I wasn’t depressed.

Student: Navy blue is the white kid who thinks he can say the n word of the color world. He thinks that he’s black.

Student: Your nose hairs look fragrant. Would you mind if I took a taste?

Student: Boxed water tastes like what I imagine trader joes to taste like as a water.

Student: The water from Moana would be a gentle lover.

Student: we feast tonight brother. I found this in the trash can.

Student: Okay, but I cry myself to sleep BETTER than you.

Student: Can you Venmo me some titties please?

Girl holding hands with another girl: It’s a good thing we’re dating otherwise this’d be pretty gay.

Student 1: I just wanted to know if you knew Lincoln personally. Teacher: What? Student 2: We think you’re a time traveler.

Student 1: Sweetie, you’re having a breakdown over rocks. Student 2: I really hate that class!!!

Student: I love being the joker when we play chess

Student: are you saying that you finger fuck your eurethra?

Student 1: Honestly sometimes I just go onto that lofi hip hop radio, beats to relax/study to thing and just get into a fight with someone in the comment section. It’s fantastic. Student 2: Sometimes they do give good advice though, once I asked if I should ask out this guy and they responded with “No, guys ain’t shit” and I was like “aight you right, you right” Student 3: Sometimes it gets weird though, like once I went on and everyone was talking about how sex and money have become the new gods of our time, and how someday a future generation will die without ever seeing the light of the sun. Student 1: Okay but are they wrong though?

Student: It doesn’t matter if you’re a boy or a girl or something in between or something else entirely. A bitch is a bitch, and you sir, are a bitch.

Student 1: so last night I killed and area few of your kids, I hope you don’t mind. Student 2: nah I don’t really care.

Student: what size pussy your phone got?

Student 1: I listen to songs about Greek gods and being polyamorous Student 2: I listen to songs about... smashing.

Student: Motzarella cheese is the pastel pink of the cheese world.

Student: Someone who can bench press 200 has nothing on someone that can just double fist eat Costco sized pound blocks of cheddar cheese.

Student: I will drag you down to hell and make the devil give you therapy so help me. Student: You see, we don’t conjugate words in English, much less math.

Students: well the thing about gamers is, you know they’re good with their hands.

Student: Oka first of all, we’re all on the same planet, so that’s already real small. Then, what are the chances that we were born the same species, like I could have been born a platypus. I could have been a mealworm. Then the chances that we’re in the same country then the same state then the same school like damn. Imma just vibe now.

Student 1: You’re built like a baked bean Student 2: IDK why that hurt me so much but it did.

Student: If I don’t get a hug in the next 10 minus, I’m going directly to the pentagon to tell Trump to suck my dick.

#funny thingsi'veheardhighschoolerssay highschool student teacher swearing newatthis

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codylabs · 5 years

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The Nomads: Part 2

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

“So how do these even work?” She poked at one of Keeleeticktick’s thrusters.

“Hey, don’t touch that!” He laughed, and slapped her hand away. “Your glove could be dirty. You’ll tarnish it.”

“Oh! Yeah. Sorry.” She pushed away from him to a slightly further handhold. “You asked about legs last week, so tonight I was curious about you.”

“Of course, of course…” He’d been in the middle of some task on the hull, and now put away his tools, and turned one eye around to regard his own propulsion. “…There aren’t any creatures on your world that move with thrusters, are there?”

“Nope. Legs to the last.”

“Huh.” He considered that. “Well… Sure, take a look, I guess.” He lifted his silk dress forward, so she could see his thrusters in full.

He had about twenty of them, in 4 clusters. Four were larger booster types, pointed all backwards, and with longer bells to improve efficiency. The others were smaller, more flexible, and were clustered around the bases of the larger. The roots of his 8 tentacles were set in the gaps between clusters, and in front of each cluster was a pair of large bulbous organs. It was a strange, radially symmetric arrangement, that called to mind the designs of jellyfish or a squid, or perhaps even that of a human spacecraft.

The dress (his only clothing besides his tool belt and pack) looked a little strange and silly to her, but it was about the only type of garment that could cover such a shape. It had a hole on the front for his ‘head’ to stick out, sleeves for his tentacles, and was open at the back, so that his thrusters could safely fire.

As for the engines themselves, each one was a fleshy, translucent bell with a shiny liquid film on the inside surface. At the base of the bell, where artificial human rockets had their fuel mixer and combustion chamber, there was some hard structure resembling a snail shell, which, aside from his beak, appeared to be the only bone in his body.

“Does the fuel burn inside these things?” She pointed to one of the shells.

His eyestalk stretched to see where she was pointing. “Yes. Those are the combustion cores.”

“And what are these, are these fuel tanks?” She pointed to the bulbous organs.

“Yes. Oxygen in these ones, hydrogen in those… Or maybe it’s the other way around, I can’t remember. The hearts pump it into the thrusters.” He pointed to a great number of muscular tubes joining each of the fuel bladders with each of its thrusters. “Four hearts for every thruster.”

“Could you show me one firing?”

“Sure.” He gripped his tentacles onto the hull, and ignited one of the smaller thrusters. The fleshy bell inflated to its full shape, the hearts contracted violently, and a tiny spark inside the combustion shell grew into a cloud of dim blue flame that flared up through the bell, and pushed him forward slightly. The hearts throbbed again, and the thruster flashed again, as cyclic and as steady as a heartbeat.

“That’s so cool…” She held out a glove behind the jet, and felt the hot gases thump against her palm.

“Don’t do that!” As soon as he noticed her sticking her hand in, he spun it away from her. The hearts stopped beating and the bell curled up. “You’ll burn yourself!”

“It didn’t feel very hot.” She shrugged. “…I didn’t feel much of anything.”

“Really…?” His eyestalks shifted up and down, which she’d gathered to be equivalent to a frown. “…Those must be pretty thick gloves, then.”

“I guess so…”

“Hmm… Uh… Well. I’d better be getting back to work, then.”

He straightened his dress and turned away.

“Anything I can do to help?”

“You want to help?”

“Sure. I’m sick of being a passenger, I can work. What’re you doing?”

“Just… Inspecting the nets.” He gestured to the woven sheets of silk which were keeping the cargo in place. “If you want to help, feel your way around the edge of that one, and tell me if you see any damage. It will be very small, some fraying around the ends at the junctions where it joins. Use this.” He handed her a marker.

“Got it.”

Twenty minutes later, she finished the inspection, and was happy to report no frays or damage whatsoever.

He made her do it a second time, because there had to be some tears, and besides, the inspection was supposed to take about an hour. She gathered she just wasn’t looking closely enough.

Two hours later she straightened back up, blinked her sore eyes, and replaced the cap on the marker. “Okay, 49 frayed ends!” She reported back. “All marked in red… And there were 32 more that I wasn’t quite sure about, and I marked those a little higher up.”

“Alright, very good job.” He nodded with approval. The lenses of his eyes extended and narrowed as he peered down at one of the ends she’d marked. “Excellent job. Yes, we’ll have to replace this whole net.”

“Couldn’t we repair it?”

“…I guess. But repairing is a lot of time and work. And replacement is easy, and we recycle the silk anyway, so no point in having a hassle.”

“Makes sense.”

“Get around to the other side and hold it tight to keep the cargo from floating off. I’ll start cutting this side. You have a knife?”

“Yep.” She hooked her fingers into a rib in the hull, clambered her way around to the other side, and retrieved her knife from her belt. “Ready when you are.”

Half an hour later, the net had been folded down and stuffed into Keeleeticktick’s pack, and they were unfolding a new one to replace it.

“So.” She spoke up. “What kind of world do your people come from?”

“Hmm?”

“I guess you didn’t come from the surface of a planet, so where did you come from?”

“Oh… Yes…�� He paused for a moment, as his mind sifted back through memories of stories and stories of memories. “It was a very large planet.” He related. “Orange and yellow, with storms and clouds of gas always swirling over its surface… I don’t think it had a surface though, I think it was just gas all the way down. But it was surrounded by small moons, and in a great many rings of rock and ice. We lived on the rings.”

“Huh.”

“It orbits that star there.” He pointed toward the heavens off their aft-starboard, and there was no possible way she could have been able to tell which of the points of light he was indicating. “The rings were green and blue, and filled with all manner of life. There were creatures with thrusters, others that drifted, others that lived their whole lives clinging to and burrowing in the rocks… The vapor their thrusters sprayed was absorbed by plants in the shapes of sheets, each one invisibly thin, and the width of a moon. The plants made it back into ice, that they used to shell their eggs and spores and organs, and other creatures fished for the spores again, to use for thrust again, which the plants absorbed again… I heard there was enough vapor floating about the rings that it looked like an atmosphere in places. And so cluttered with rocks and ice and soil and life and things that if you set off in a straight line, you would find something in not more than a night, and sometimes things could even be hidden.”

“Wow.” She hadn’t understood half of the words in his description, but got the gist that it was a complicated, exciting, and varied place. Similar in composition, perhaps, to the rings of Saturn or Uranus, but as different from those lifeless wastes as the Earth was from Mars. “But… You’ve never seen it?” She clarified.

“No… No. That was a long time ago, and only the start. Only the place where we began. We’ve been to so many other places now… That one. That one. That one.” He pointed out other stars, all across the sky. She could never tell which he was pointing to, but he obviously knew their names, could tell their distance, had them mapped in his mind’s eye. “I think I heard that our tribe’s heritage goes back about eight or nine homeworlds. All unique. All of a different feel. All around different stars… All of them abandoned when they got too crowded, or when more violent tribes appeared, or when the life we brought along became too wild and strange. My grandfather’s generation was the one that selected this star.” He pointed ahead of them, toward the brightest star in the sky, whose system they were now entering. “He and his sons spent a lifetime constructing the heavy ion engines needed to move the tribe, and then they set out.” He nodded toward the massive ion thruster glowing on the bow of the tribe’s largest ship, alongside which all the others were being towed by silk. “And it’ll be my generation that finally arrives there, and my son’s that will civilize it… And then maybe his grandchildren will leave it again. Who knows?”

“You were born on the way?”

“Yes.”

“How long do your people live? The length of a life?”

“Hmm… I think by your measure, it would be around 700 years. So, not very long.”

“It sounds like a long time to me.”

“My father said it doesn’t feel very long.”

“…Does it ever get boring?”

“We can sleep for years. We often do.”

“Ah.”

“So yes.” He twisted up his tentacles as a human would fold his arms, and stared out at the distant, intangible starscape. “Yes. It gets boring. It really… Really does. Nothing to do most of the time except… You know. Chart stars, tell stories, try to stay warm, and replace perfectly good nets.”

“Huh.”

“Your world sounds exciting though. Everything close. Everything hidden. Everything dense and different. I bet they had a lot of good stories there.”

“Yeah…” If she recalled correctly, her ship’s database had backed up all its files to the escape pods during the attack. “Yeah, my pod might have a few. I’ll take a look around.”

“That’d be nice.” He agreed. “We could always use more stories.”

“Yeah.” She was about to leave when one more question surfaced in her mind. “Hey wait, your grandad’s generation, did you say they built multiple ion engines? I only see one.”

“Yes, there are many… This isn’t all the tribe. There’s others.” He pointed off into the blackness in a few different directions. “Here. There. All around. We’re all traveling together.”

“Really?” She squinted around, feeling very blind indeed. “I can’t even see any of them.”

“Not all of them are far off. See? There’s the Likokisis family convoy.” He pointed to a bright speck off to port that looked to her like nothing but another star. “HEY! HEY TIFOKOTO LOOK OVER HERE! HEY!” He waved his arms. “TIFOKOTO! I’M TALKING TO YOU! See, he heard me! He’s waving back, see? He’s my best friend.”

His eyeballs were the size of grapefruits and hers the size of grapes, and she couldn’t see anything no matter how she squinted. For something as large as their own convoy to be so faint, it must have been hundreds of miles away at least. And if one additional ‘nearby’ convoy had escaped her notice so completely, how many were there around here? “…How many ships… How many people are in this ‘tribe’?” She asked, and wondered if she’d been mistranslating the word; perhaps what she’d been taking as ‘tribe’ meant something more like ‘nation’ or ‘army’…?

“I…” Keeleeticktick hesitated. “I’m not sure I’m supposed to tell you that.”

“You’re not sure what?”

“Well…! Look Missus Fikes, you’re my friend, but you’re the first alien we’ve ever met. There are many who don’t trust you. Many who don’t want you to know the strength, size, location of our people…”

“You think I’m gonna hurt you guys?”

“No.”

“Man!” She sassed. “If I wanted to hurt you, you’d be hurt! You’ve seen how strong I am! Your cells are just filled with gas, I’m-”

A sniper round pierced a hole in the net, with such infinite precision that it grazed the tip of the finger of her glove but didn’t puncture it. A warning.

“GEEZ! WHAT!” She jerked her hand back with a start.

“CALM DOWN SIKTICKSIS YOU THICK-HEADED WAR-MONGERING IDIOT!” Keeleeticktick yelled in the direction of another invisibly distant convoy. “YOU KNOW FULL WELL THAT HE WAS JUST JOKING, RIGHT?!?” He glanced back at her. Right? He spoke in sign language.

Right. She hurriedly signed back.

Good. He replied. I know. He amended.

They continued to work on the net for the next hour or so, but it was dreadful. An uneasy silence hung over their conversation, and the other nomads besides Keeleeticktick kept their distance from her, and a strange mix of anger and fear and vague, aching sorrow followed after her.

As she lay down in her fragile pod that night, she realized that she’d learned an important lesson: that strength and power and raw capability were no real cause for pride and were no real virtue in the eyes of the universe, for they can be so easily supplanted and surpassed by greater powers, they can so easily lose their power when separated from their element, and there were many greater powers in the universe.

“Missus Fikes.” She whispered to herself, and she spoke in the nomad’s language, for it was becoming her own. “I think you are a very, very long way from home.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“MASS HO!” Came the call.

In her haste to get outside, she accidentally pumped the airlock and buckled her helmet in the wrong order, and was gasping for air a few seconds as she stepped out onto the hull. She managed to find Keeleeticktick amid the ruckus. “What’s up? What happened?”

“Radar picked up an asteroid in our path, closing fast. Deep scanning shows a composition of ice, ore, and carbon.”

“Is it going to hit us?”

“Not literally in our path, I mean it’s close enough to catch!” She could hear in his voice the annoyance at how new she still was to everything. “Ice means fuel, so it’s sure to be worth the maneuver. The ores and other elements are a nice bonus too. But we don’t have much time before we pass. An hour.”

“Uh… Alright then, let’s rock!”

“Rock?”

“I mean let’s go! How do we do this?”

“You want to make yourself useful, you can volunteer.”

“Volunteer for what?”

“ALL RIGHT!” The family elder thrusted up onto the bridge, and raised high a curled tentacle in the air with an excited cry. “WHO’S WANTS TO GO FISHING?”

“I do!” Her hand shot up, along with basically every other tentacle in the crowd.

“READY THE SHIPS!” He waved them all onward and outward. “LINE AND NETS! WINCHES AND FUEL! YOU KNOW THE WAY!”

“What can I do?” She called to Keeleeticktick above the excited shouting of the others.

“You won’t get action following me, I’m a helmsman!” He turned and hurried away. “Stick with Thilykto; He’s done this before!”

The boy rushed past, slapping her helmet as he did. “Let’s rock, Missus Fikes!” It was a phrase he’d learned 15 seconds ago, from her.

“What can I do?” She repeated.

“I don’t know, follow those guys and score us some line! I’m going to get some weights!”

“Some what? Alright!” She followed a group of nomads to an open cargo sphere, pushed and shoved along with them to get a long roll of silken thread, and then kicked off again in the direction she’d seen Thilykto heading. He met her going the other way.

“Where are you going?” He demanded.

“I was following you, where are you going?”

“To the ships!”

The family’s convoy was composed of some 30 vessels, all tied to each other in a loose formation about half a mile across, rotating just enough to keep the structure rigid. The ship at the center contained the main ion engine, and it towed all the rest. Other ships were cargo vessels, their surfaces crowded with packs of equipment and supplies. Some cargo ships carried nothing but ice, others nothing but ore, one had nothing but a single enormous cannister. Some smaller ships were more enclosed, and served as homes for smaller groups. Others were packed with telescopes and imaging equipment, others carried mining augers and refineries and a manufacturing facilities, one was just a straight-up gymnasium, one of them had her own human-made pod tied to the side.

But there was a last type of ship, of which there were five, that she’d never seen used and had never asked about, and it was to these ships that the nomads were now flocking.

They shared the same basic design and layout as all the others; 8 spherical fuel cells, and 8 main engines in 4 clusters, and a crows nest and comm center on top; all tied together by metal lattice, silk, and foil plates of alien wood. But these five ships had no cargo space. Instead, they had a mining talon on the bottom with spikes for gripping into rocks. And between the talon and crows nest, they sported a trio of long cannons. And all around the ships’ circumference, like a pair of semicircular wings, were hung two massive trusses whose purpose she couldn’t guess.

She found Thilykto just underneath the crows nest, bouncing around excitedly and saying something she didn’t make out. Some of the other nomads untied the ship from the convoy, and the hull shuddered beneath her hand as they began to drift away. A group of engineers got the engines primed up, and with a flash, they sparked alive into smooth blue flame.

In her helmet radio, she was overhearing chatter from the helmsmen coordinating. It sounded pretty routine until one of the other ships sounded out. “Aim good, receiving good, powder and ignitor good! Hold onto something and shield your eyes!” And, (catching that last bit a second late) she turned just in time to see its largest cannon fire.

It was an enormous jet of flame and smoke, uncooled and undampened by air, which spiked from the barrel and discharged through every direction of space before the white of the blast faded to red. As she blinked to clear the spot from her eyes, she thought she could see the projectile cresting the tip of the jet, hurtling off into space. Except it wasn’t one projectile, she saw it was many. And each of them was trailing a silk line behind it…

“Missus Fikes, you got that silk, right?” Thilykto was at her elbow. “Got to hurry now, not much time!”

“Yeah, yep!” She pulled it out. “I didn’t know how much we’d need, so I grabbed a whole roll.”

“Perfect! Let’s thread it into one of these winches.” He led the way out onto one of the ship’s wings, where other nomads were busy bolting down motors and spools. He helped her tie the end of her silk into the drum of the nearest one, and they spun the winch backwards to wind it up. When they were done the winch must have had about a mile and a half of silk in it, and the roll in her hands was barely depleted. Now Thilykto cut the silk short, and tied the end around a small metal weight. “There we go. Onto the next one.”

“What are these for?”

“Once we get the ship spinning, the weights will fan them all straight out. Then you’ll see.”

“What’s…? I…? What’s even going on? What was that other ship using its… Its weapons for? What were they shooting at?”

“It was shooting at the Likokisis family.” He pointed off into the blackness.

“WHAT?”

“And the Likokisis family shot at the Waskleskiki family, who shot at us. These are to catch the Waskleskiki’s lines.” He slapped the winch. “And the Likokisis will catch our lines, and the Waskleskikis will catch theirs. We’ll get all three families tied together into a huge triangle. That’s step one.”

“Oh…”

“We’ve gotta hurry though! The Waskleskikis already fired! The lines are on their way!”

“Right! Right…”

They managed to get three winches threaded up before the helmsman sounded the alarm that they were beginning their spin. By that point other people had already gotten the other winches prepped, so all that was left to do was climb back to an enclosed space behind the cannons, and wait and watch.

The ship’s maneuvering engines fired, and it began to rotate. The winches all unlocked and reeled out, and the weights stretched the silk out in every direction, like the spokes of a wheel.

Then, contact! The many projectiles from the Waskleskikis gun sailed past, each trailing a line straight in between their own whirling threads. The two sets wrapped around each other, the weights all swung around and tangled themselves up in knots, and the winches reversed.

The nomads all rushed back onto the wings now, to cut through the sudden tangle and collect the Waskleskikis’ threads. She was right there among them, cutters in hand, trimming and sorting and untangling, and have a great deal of fun at it, even if she wasn’t quite as practiced or precise. Thilykto was among those collecting the scraps and discarded pieces for recycling. Others were unloading the ends of enormous nets, or something like nets, from the ship’s storage locker.

The ship which had fired on the Likokisis was now approaching right off their starboard, and people were flying back and forth between them, exchanging lines, sorting and rearranging and tying and re-tying knots.

A few more minutes of confusion and untangling, and things were starting to make a sort of sense. Some of the Waskleskikis’ threads were tied down securely, others were tied to the ends of their nets, and others were attached into winches. The Waskleskikis seemed to know which these were, and began to reel in the ones on the nets, and give slack to the ones in the winches. They themselves began to reel in certain threads from the Likokisis, and let out certain others. The smaller winches from earlier had been taken down, and the winches that replaced them were quite a bit larger, and spun at enormous speed. Cables in each direction were taken in and let out, the nets followed the ones that went out, thrusters flashed to keep it tight, and before she knew it, the nets all disappeared into the distance.

Half an hour longer, and the winches finally stopped spinning. The silk was all spliced strongly together, and bolted directly to the wings. She helped stow the winches, and then there was nothing to do but wait. Most of the nomads hooked a tentacle or two into the wings, and sat back to relax in exhaustion.

“How long are these lines?” She asked Thilykto. She was feeling less exhausted.

He pointed to the left. “From us to the Likokisis is about… Eighty Tikakikos?” He pointed to the right. “And it’s about seventy to the Wasklekikis.”

“Tikakikos… Which is…?”

“One hundred thousand Tikaki. Which is about this far.” He held his tentacles up to a width of about eight feet.

She did some brief math and some gross rounding in her head, and arrived at a figure of about a thousand miles or so.

A thousand miles.

In the course of less than an hour, the tribe had spun a spider web a thousand miles wide. And they’d used nothing but silk, a few brief bursts of fuel, and three shells of gunpowder.

And she thought that was just plain impressive.

“You did really good. Missus Fikes.”

“Oh yeah? Well you did great too, man! Gimme five!”

He held up a tentacle and slapped it against her glove. It pushed them away from each other and they had to grip the hull again to keep from drifting off.

“Yeah.” He agreed. “You have a lot of energy. Are you even tired?”

“No, not really. This is easy work.”

“Huh.” He laughed. “Once we get further into the system, and start mining and building and fishing in earnest, you could have your own woman in no time.”

“I what?”

“Oh, uh, ha ha, nothing. I mean ship.” He slapped the hull. “Have your own ship in no time. A fishing ship. Like this one.”

“No, you used another word, what was the word you used? I’m still learning this language, you know.”

“Oh, geez. Ha ha. Ugh. It was just a dump joke. Calling a ship a woman. Like you become captain of a ship, it’s like you get a woman. I dunno, ask my dad. And don’t tell him you got it from me.”

“But what does that word mean? I kid you not, I have never heard it. Is it a cuss or what?”

“Did you not have women on your planet?”

“Well I don’t very well know if you don’t give me a hint or something!” She scoffed. “Describe it! I have no clue-”

“I’m not gonna describe a woman! Go ask my dad!”

“Oh come on, kid.” Somebody slapped Thilykto over the head with a teasing laugh. “Stop before you embarrass yourself.”

“I think I’m well past that point by now!” She swatted the tentacle away. “And quit laughing! You describe a woman then, smart guy!”

“Maybe I will!”

“What is the joke?” She was laughing as well now, despite herself. “It is a cuss, isn’t it??”

“Ask my dad! Like I told you!”

“Okay, you little snot.” She waggled a finger at him with a smile. “But I’m signing your name to the question.”

He broke down laughing at his own expense before he could find a retort. She shook her head and took a sip of water from her suit’s bladder.

And ten minutes later, the asteroid hit.

Whatever this silk material was, it was able to stretch a phenomenal distance, especially so over 500 miles of net in every direction, so they in the fishing vessel felt it as less of a shock and more as a gradual sort of pull. A strain gauge they’d clipped to the line began to climb.

“We’re hitting 240 over here.” The family elder read of the gauge. “HOW ABOUT YOU?”

“430.” The Likokisis elder reported.

“510.” Wasklekikis’s elder called.

“It’s getting too dangerous.” He assessed. “Detach yours before it peaks. We’ll wrap it up tight so you can re-catch it when it comes back around.”

“Aye.”

“Aye, but you owe us.”

The other two families severed their lines, and the elasticity of the silk sprung their ends inward, and wrapped them tightly around the asteroid, engulfing it completely in thread. Meanwhile, their target remained tethered to the last remaining ship, and they began to swing around each other in a pair of enormous arcs.

“Hold on to something Missus Fikes.”

“What’s happening?”

“We’re slinging the asteroid around, while the other ships make a new net to slow it down the rest of the way. It’ll put our ship adrift for a little while, but that’s okay. This has to happen sometimes, when we catch more mass than we anticipate, or when the asteroid is denser than it looks.”

“Adri- wait.” She glanced back at the convoy, which they were accelerating away from faster and faster. “WAIT! Oh crap, I can’t live inside this suit for more than a night!”

“Oh no! Missus Fikes, you have to jump!”

“I can’t make it! I don’t have thrusters!”

“You have to jump now! Before we’re too far or too fast!”

“You’ll have to toss me!”

They tossed her.

“But I still don’t have thrusters!”

“Take my squirt gun!”

They tossed her a rocket with a handle on top.

“Oh you have got to be kidding me.” She stared back at them, and saw they were all laughing.

“Don’t worry Missus Fikes, it’s easy to use, just point it and squirt!” They were sailing away from her, faster and faster.

“You’ll be fine! You can get back to the convoy!”

“The gun has eight hundred tikaki per second of delta-v! You can make it back easy!”

“If I die out here, it’s you guys’ fault!”

“No, no, you’ll be fine, Missus Fikes, don’t worry!

“I know you can do it!”

“Oh, go get a woman, you lunatics!” She cussed at them, with still no clue what the word meant. They all burst into the loudest, most contagious laughter she’d ever heard, because they too could tell she didn’t.

It took an hour or so, but she got back to the convoy just fine. It wasn’t too hard.

She was surprised by how comfortable and reassuring the silk net felt beneath her hands when she finally made it. And when she clipped the safety tether on her belt into a truss, she trusted the hull of that alien craft just as intimately as she would’ve trusted the concrete foundation of her own home. Perhaps that’s because it was her home now, and she hadn’t yet realized how much she’d forgotten.

She’d almost made it back to her pod when she heard the call. “Missus Fikes?”

She glanced over her shoulder at the fading dot of the fishing vessel. “What’s up?”

“We finally got the asteroid on telescope and… It’s not an asteroid.”

“…What is it then?”

“It’s a piece of your ship.”

“What… But? My ship was completely aluminum. I… I thought you said… Said… I thought you said the asteroid had ice and carbon…”

“It does.”

“…Oh.” She got it.

“They’re all dead.”

“…Yeah. I know.”

“I’m sorry, Missus Fikes.”

“It’s okay… I know.”

“If I had my way, Missus Fikes.” Came Thilykto’s voice. “You and I would go out together, lure that leviathan in, and kill her. I don’t care how long it takes, we would FIND her and KILL her!”

“My lifespan is too short to spend on monster hunts, Thilykto.” She sighed. “And you shouldn’t be hasty to spend yours either… I’m going to sleep now. I’m tired.”

She closed the door behind her.

#The Nomads #missus fikes #spaceborne lifeform #alien #scifi #writing #short story

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shiosaian · 4 years

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Another typhoon is approaching. Craft House is surrounded by the roar of the ocean, making its Japanese nickname, shiosai-an very convincing. I went there this morning to close rain shutters, but before doing that, took some time to give this a try. また台風が接近中。ごうごう響く波の音に包まれて、しおさい庵の名前も面目躍如。今朝はそこに雨戸を閉めに行ったついでに、ちょっとコレを試してみたんですが...。^^;;

I did try to pick small and relatively light seashells only. なるべく、小さくて軽い目の貝殻を選んだんだけど。

It was easier to make a hole in some seashells than others. And some already had a hole probably made by bladder moon snail, which really helped. Doing this work really tells you a lot about seashells and make you feel close to them. Really. どの貝が穴を空けやすいか、同じ貝でもどの部分が薄いかとか、この作業やってると、ホントにいろんな事に気づいて、前より貝を身近に感じるデスよ。ホントに。時々、最初から穴が開いてるヤツを見つけると（多分ツメタガイが犯人）、すっごい助かるんで嬉しくなる。^^）

So, this is the result. :) Yeah. Cute? ... In a way? But I really need to re-learn how to weave square-mesh net. Definitely. LOL で、出来たのがコレだけど。ま、ある意味、カワイイっちゃカワイイ、と言えなくもないけど。いやーまずは、ネットの編み方ちゃんと勉強しなおしますワ。そこからだ。ｗｗｗ

#seashell craft #seashell ornament

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procyonvulpecula · 7 years

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Memes from our flat and associated people at MCM Comic Con

@emmerer @ayaka-shimizu @pants-renko/@impetuous-esper @zodiac-tsundere @xanyx (...I think?)

Spare hair

Meme cream

That building is tall

Removing the lower floors of a building and pushing the top floor to make a plane

Bird Pope, Bird Pope, he flies around to bring you hope/snope (snail hope)

“I’m not here to fork speed you”

Dave and the guy who doesn’t have any lungs

That siren is Blairing. “Education, education, education!”

Pants Wanker

“I don’t want the last thing I say to you tonight to be Bee Fucker. ...wait.”

“I’m really enjoying my time here at MCM Comic Con 2017! Don’t forget to stay hydrated!”

Claire is somewhat spicy and has small wings

“The borders are open, we are no longer Trump’s America!”

Infatuated sassy acids

Kyouko and Mystia’s band (I’m not even going to type out the new name)

Magikarp trainer toilets and gender orbs

Confiscating Adam’s bladder at the O2

Wait, which China are we talking about here?

The Moon is actually a cheap Chinese knock-off of the Sun, which is a cheap Chinese knock-off of the Moon which caught fire

London is aesthetic at aesthetic o’clock

Your t-shirt looks like an explosion of rabbits

cold (h)air blower vs. TV

There’s science on my nose.

“Adam, please science all over my face.” - Luna

anti-Frisk shampoo (also anti-fish, fusion, freeze and fish)

Russians

A billion Soviets

I’m saving the USSR for a rainy day

Claire’s saving herself for a rainy day

Units of measurement (about three?)

Tea is the universal cure for everything especially foot problems

“How do you make hot chocolate?”

Sensitive Growlithe

The missile knows where is isn’t at all times

We have to find all seven bees in the world and that means living forever

Cola and Slush Puppy = science!

Asgore x Temmie crack fanart

Plant Crossing - not as good as Animal Crossing

Adverse Camber, Cylists Please Dismount

Fingerboys

Katy has 11 crispy breasts, 9 of which are edible

“All rise for the national anthem - you fuckin’ skreb.”

Flying type Pokemon stealing our women at a rate of 30 per second, and one window frame per second.

Claire needs to update her flaps.

#69 Bellsprout

“Does he look like a Darude?”

“I’m not a Darude, Adam, I’m just Harry!”

BBC controls the weather.

I can name every country in the world - Congo and Brazil. Both of them.

Lucozade SCREM

“I’m French.” “I am so, so sorry to hear that. May I offer you a consolation croissant?”

“We’re entirely safe in this thunderstorm. Only the tallest person in the building gets struck by lightning.

Taste the ___, Johnny!

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livecreativenow-blog · 7 years

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Only 16 hours left to get a doodle for donating to my Birthday Fundraiser for @animalsasia on Facebook! And just $14 will kick us over to $1000–will you help push us over the top? This doodle is dedicated to my Lana Phillips. Thanks, Lana! 😊❤️ Everyone who donates gets a doodle dedicated to them, AND if you email me your snail mail address I’ll send your doodle to you in the MAIL! 😀 Everyone wins: - Animals win: moon bears get freed from lives of misery in tiny cages with huge needles jammed in their gall bladders. - You win: you get the good feeling of knowing you made a difference for moon bears, AND gave me a happy birthday, PLUS you get original art! - I win: I get the best birthday gift ever, knowing I made a difference, and hopefully made you smile with my art in the process, too! 😊 Terms & Conditions: • Donations must be made via the link on Facebook. • I don't take requests on the doodles — you get what you get. • Since I make approximately ONE doodle per day (give or take), and I have no idea how many people are going to end up donating, it could up to take several weeks to get your doodle and dedication, so please have patience! Thanks in advance. #birthdayfundraiser #fundraiser #creativesandbox #creativesandboxway #doodle #doodles #doodleart #doodleartist #doodlesofinstagram #dailydoodle2017 #dailydoodle #dailycreative #dailyart #artistsofinstagram #artistsoninstagram #originalart #originalartwork #blackandwhite #pigmamicron #abstractart

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cressiworld · 7 years

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FULL STORY=> http://ift.tt/2yC9Z7b Christine and Adam are diving in Pedersen Lagoon, Alaska. This lagoon is extremely unique and remote. Pedersen Glacier melts fresh water into the lagoon, while Aialik Bay also contributes salt water through a small inlet. This brackish environment is enjoyed by sea otters and harbor seals, as well as enormous quantities of Aleutian moon snails covering the bottom. The glacial silt carried in from Pedersen Glacier give the cold water a teal appearance. The lagoon is surrounded by bladder wrack, exposed when the tide is low. Photo: Fins to Spurs www.cressi.com

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readbookywooks · 8 years

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The Devilfish

FOR SOME DAYS the Nautilus kept veering away from the American coast. It obviously didn't want to frequent the waves of the Gulf of Mexico or the Caribbean Sea. Yet there was no shortage of water under its keel, since the average depth of these seas is 1,800 meters; but these waterways, strewn with islands and plowed by steamers, probably didn't agree with Captain Nemo. On April 16 we raised Martinique and Guadalupe from a distance of about thirty miles. For one instant I could see their lofty peaks. The Canadian was quite disheartened, having counted on putting his plans into execution in the gulf, either by reaching shore or by pulling alongside one of the many boats plying a coastal trade from one island to another. An escape attempt would have been quite feasible, assuming Ned Land managed to seize the skiff without the captain's knowledge. But in midocean it was unthinkable. The Canadian, Conseil, and I had a pretty long conversation on this subject. For six months we had been prisoners aboard the Nautilus. We had fared 17,000 leagues, and as Ned Land put it, there was no end in sight. So he made me a proposition I hadn't anticipated. We were to ask Captain Nemo this question straight out: did the captain mean to keep us on board his vessel permanently? This measure was distasteful to me. To my mind it would lead nowhere. We could hope for nothing from the Nautilus's commander but could depend only on ourselves. Besides, for some time now the man had been gloomier, more withdrawn, less sociable. He seemed to be avoiding me. I encountered him only at rare intervals. He used to take pleasure in explaining the underwater wonders to me; now he left me to my research and no longer entered the lounge. What changes had come over him? From what cause? I had no reason to blame myself. Was our presence on board perhaps a burden to him? Even so, I cherished no hopes that the man would set us free. So I begged Ned to let me think about it before taking action. If this measure proved fruitless, it could arouse the captain's suspicions, make our circumstances even more arduous, and jeopardize the Canadian's plans. I might add that I could hardly use our state of health as an argument. Except for that grueling ordeal under the Ice Bank at the South Pole, we had never felt better, neither Ned, Conseil, nor I. The nutritious food, life-giving air, regular routine, and uniform temperature kept illness at bay; and for a man who didn't miss his past existence on land, for a Captain Nemo who was at home here, who went where he wished, who took paths mysterious to others if not himself in attaining his ends, I could understand such a life. But we ourselves hadn't severed all ties with humanity. For my part, I didn't want my new and unusual research to be buried with my bones. I had now earned the right to pen the definitive book on the sea, and sooner or later I wanted that book to see the light of day. There once more, through the panels opening into these Caribbean waters ten meters below the surface of the waves, I found so many fascinating exhibits to describe in my daily notes! Among other zoophytes there were Portuguese men-of-war known by the name Physalia pelagica, like big, oblong bladders with a pearly sheen, spreading their membranes to the wind, letting their blue tentacles drift like silken threads; to the eye delightful jellyfish, to the touch actual nettles that ooze a corrosive liquid. Among the articulates there were annelid worms one and a half meters long, furnished with a pink proboscis, equipped with 1,700 organs of locomotion, snaking through the waters, and as they went, throwing off every gleam in the solar spectrum. From the fish branch there were manta rays, enormous cartilaginous fish ten feet long and weighing 600 pounds, their pectoral fin triangular, their midback slightly arched, their eyes attached to the edges of the face at the front of the head; they floated like wreckage from a ship, sometimes fastening onto our windows like opaque shutters. There were American triggerfish for which nature has ground only black and white pigments, feather-shaped gobies that were long and plump with yellow fins and jutting jaws, sixteen-decimeter mackerel with short, sharp teeth, covered with small scales, and related to the albacore species. Next came swarms of red mullet corseted in gold stripes from head to tail, their shining fins all aquiver, genuine masterpieces of jewelry, formerly sacred to the goddess Diana, much in demand by rich Romans, and about which the old saying goes: "He who catches them doesn't eat them!" Finally, adorned with emerald ribbons and dressed in velvet and silk, golden angelfish passed before our eyes like courtiers in the paintings of Veronese; spurred gilthead stole by with their swift thoracic fins; thread herring fifteen inches long were wrapped in their phosphorescent glimmers; gray mullet thrashed the sea with their big fleshy tails; red salmon seemed to mow the waves with their slicing pectorals; and silver moonfish, worthy of their name, rose on the horizon of the waters like the whitish reflections of many moons. How many other marvelous new specimens I still could have observed if, little by little, the Nautilus hadn't settled to the lower strata! Its slanting fins drew it to depths of 2,000 and 3,500 meters. There animal life was represented by nothing more than sea lilies, starfish, delightful crinoids with bell-shaped heads like little chalices on straight stems, top-shell snails, blood-red tooth shells, and fissurella snails, a large species of coastal mollusk. By April 20 we had risen to an average level of 1,500 meters. The nearest land was the island group of the Bahamas, scattered like a batch of cobblestones over the surface of the water. There high underwater cliffs reared up, straight walls made of craggy chunks arranged like big stone foundations, among which there gaped black caves so deep our electric rays couldn't light them to the far ends. These rocks were hung with huge weeds, immense sea tangle, gigantic fucus-a genuine trellis of water plants fit for a world of giants. In discussing these colossal plants, Conseil, Ned, and I were naturally led into mentioning the sea's gigantic animals. The former were obviously meant to feed the latter. However, through the windows of our almost motionless Nautilus, I could see nothing among these long filaments other than the chief articulates of the division Brachyura: long-legged spider crabs, violet crabs, and sponge crabs unique to the waters of the Caribbean. It was about eleven o'clock when Ned Land drew my attention to a fearsome commotion out in this huge seaweed. "Well," I said, "these are real devilfish caverns, and I wouldn't be surprised to see some of those monsters hereabouts." "What!" Conseil put in. "Squid, ordinary squid from the class Cephalopoda?" "No," I said, "devilfish of large dimensions. But friend Land is no doubt mistaken, because I don't see a thing." "That's regrettable," Conseil answered. "I'd like to come face to face with one of those devilfish I've heard so much about, which can drag ships down into the depths. Those beasts go by the name of krake - " "Fake is more like it," the Canadian replied sarcastically. "Krakens!" Conseil shot back, finishing his word without wincing at his companion's witticism. "Nobody will ever make me believe," Ned Land said, "that such animals exist." "Why not?" Conseil replied. "We sincerely believed in master's narwhale." "We were wrong, Conseil." "No doubt, but there are others with no doubts who believe to this day!" "Probably, Conseil. But as for me, I'm bound and determined not to accept the existence of any such monster till I've dissected it with my own two hands." "Yet," Conseil asked me, "doesn't master believe in gigantic devilfish?" "Yikes! Who in Hades ever believed in them?" the Canadian exclaimed. "Many people, Ned my friend," I said. "No fishermen. Scientists maybe!" "Pardon me, Ned. Fishermen and scientists!" "Why, I to whom you speak," Conseil said with the world's straightest face, "I recall perfectly seeing a large boat dragged under the waves by the arms of a cephalopod." "You saw that?" the Canadian asked. "Yes, Ned." "With your own two eyes?" "With my own two eyes." "Where, may I ask?" "In Saint-Malo," Conseil returned unflappably. "In the harbor?" Ned Land said sarcastically. "No, in a church," Conseil replied. "In a church!" the Canadian exclaimed. "Yes, Ned my friend. It had a picture that portrayed the devilfish in question." "Oh good!" Ned Land exclaimed with a burst of laughter. "Mr. Conseil put one over on me!" "Actually he's right," I said. "I've heard about that picture. But the subject it portrays is taken from a legend, and you know how to rate legends in matters of natural history! Besides, when it's an issue of monsters, the human imagination always tends to run wild. People not only claimed these devilfish could drag ships under, but a certain Olaus Magnus tells of a cephalopod a mile long that looked more like an island than an animal. There's also the story of how the Bishop of Trondheim set up an altar one day on an immense rock. After he finished saying mass, this rock started moving and went back into the sea. The rock was a devilfish." "And that's everything we know?" the Canadian asked. "No," I replied, "another bishop, Pontoppidan of Bergen, also tells of a devilfish so large a whole cavalry regiment could maneuver on it." "They sure did go on, those oldtime bishops!" Ned Land said. "Finally, the naturalists of antiquity mention some monsters with mouths as big as a gulf, which were too huge to get through the Strait of Gibraltar." "Good work, men!" the Canadian put in. "But in all these stories, is there any truth?" Conseil asked. "None at all, my friends, at least in those that go beyond the bounds of credibility and fly off into fable or legend. Yet for the imaginings of these storytellers there had to be, if not a cause, at least an excuse. It can't be denied that some species of squid and other devilfish are quite large, though still smaller than cetaceans. Aristotle put the dimensions of one squid at five cubits, or 3.1 meters. Our fishermen frequently see specimens over 1.8 meters long. The museums in Trieste and Montpellier have preserved some devilfish carcasses measuring two meters. Besides, according to the calculations of naturalists, one of these animals only six feet long would have tentacles as long as twenty-seven. Which is enough to make a fearsome monster." "Does anybody fish for 'em nowadays?" the Canadian asked. "If they don't fish for them, sailors at least sight them. A friend of mine, Captain Paul Bos of Le Havre, has often sworn to me that he encountered one of these monsters of colossal size in the seas of the East Indies. But the most astonishing event, which proves that these gigantic animals undeniably exist, took place a few years ago in 1861." "What event was that?" Ned Land asked. "Just this. In 1861, to the northeast of Tenerife and fairly near the latitude where we are right now, the crew of the gunboat Alecto spotted a monstrous squid swimming in their waters. Commander Bouguer approached the animal and attacked it with blows from harpoons and blasts from rifles, but without much success because bullets and harpoons crossed its soft flesh as if it were semiliquid jelly. After several fruitless attempts, the crew managed to slip a noose around the mollusk's body. This noose slid as far as the caudal fins and came to a halt. Then they tried to haul the monster on board, but its weight was so considerable that when they tugged on the rope, the animal parted company with its tail; and deprived of this adornment, it disappeared beneath the waters." "Finally, an actual event," Ned Land said. "An indisputable event, my gallant Ned. Accordingly, people have proposed naming this devilfish Bouguer's Squid." "And how long was it?" the Canadian asked. "Didn't it measure about six meters?" said Conseil, who was stationed at the window and examining anew the crevices in the cliff. "Precisely," I replied. "Wasn't its head," Conseil went on, "crowned by eight tentacles that quivered in the water like a nest of snakes?" "Precisely." "Weren't its eyes prominently placed and considerably enlarged?" "Yes, Conseil." "And wasn't its mouth a real parrot's beak but of fearsome size?" "Correct, Conseil." "Well, with all due respect to master," Conseil replied serenely, "if this isn't Bouguer's Squid, it's at least one of his close relatives!" I stared at Conseil. Ned Land rushed to the window. "What an awful animal!" he exclaimed. I stared in my turn and couldn't keep back a movement of revulsion. Before my eyes there quivered a horrible monster worthy of a place among the most farfetched teratological legends. It was a squid of colossal dimensions, fully eight meters long. It was traveling backward with tremendous speed in the same direction as the Nautilus. It gazed with enormous, staring eyes that were tinted sea green. Its eight arms (or more accurately, feet) were rooted in its head, which has earned these animals the name cephalopod; its arms stretched a distance twice the length of its body and were writhing like the serpentine hair of the Furies. You could plainly see its 250 suckers, arranged over the inner sides of its tentacles and shaped like semispheric capsules. Sometimes these suckers fastened onto the lounge window by creating vacuums against it. The monster's mouth - a beak made of horn and shaped like that of a parrot - opened and closed vertically. Its tongue, also of horn substance and armed with several rows of sharp teeth, would flicker out from between these genuine shears. What a freak of nature! A bird's beak on a mollusk! Its body was spindle-shaped and swollen in the middle, a fleshy mass that must have weighed 20,000 to 25,000 kilograms. Its unstable color would change with tremendous speed as the animal grew irritated, passing successively from bluish gray to reddish brown. What was irritating this mollusk? No doubt the presence of the Nautilus, even more fearsome than itself, and which it couldn't grip with its mandibles or the suckers on its arms. And yet what monsters these devilfish are, what vitality our Creator has given them, what vigor in their movements, thanks to their owning a triple heart! Sheer chance had placed us in the presence of this squid, and I didn't want to lose this opportunity to meticulously study such a cephalopod specimen. I overcame the horror that its appearance inspired in me, picked up a pencil, and began to sketch it. "Perhaps this is the same as the Alecto's," Conseil said. "Can't be," the Canadian replied, "because this one's complete while the other one lost its tail!" "That doesn't necessarily follow," I said. "The arms and tails of these animals grow back through regeneration, and in seven years the tail on Bouguer's Squid has surely had time to sprout again." "Anyhow," Ned shot back, "if it isn't this fellow, maybe it's one of those!" Indeed, other devilfish had appeared at the starboard window. I counted seven of them. They provided the Nautilus with an escort, and I could hear their beaks gnashing on the sheet-iron hull. We couldn't have asked for a more devoted following. I continued sketching. These monsters kept pace in our waters with such precision, they seemed to be standing still, and I could have traced their outlines in miniature on the window. But we were moving at a moderate speed. All at once the Nautilus stopped. A jolt made it tremble through its entire framework. "Did we strike bottom?" I asked. "In any event we're already clear," the Canadian replied, "because we're afloat." The Nautilus was certainly afloat, but it was no longer in motion. The blades of its propeller weren't churning the waves. A minute passed. Followed by his chief officer, Captain Nemo entered the lounge. I hadn't seen him for a good while. He looked gloomy to me. Without speaking to us, without even seeing us perhaps, he went to the panel, stared at the devilfish, and said a few words to his chief officer. The latter went out. Soon the panels closed. The ceiling lit up. I went over to the captain. "An unusual assortment of devilfish," I told him, as carefree as a collector in front of an aquarium. "Correct, Mr. Naturalist," he answered me, "and we're going to fight them at close quarters." I gaped at the captain. I thought my hearing had gone bad. "At close quarters?" I repeated. "Yes, sir. Our propeller is jammed. I think the horn-covered mandibles of one of these squid are entangled in the blades. That's why we aren't moving." "And what are you going to do?" "Rise to the surface and slaughter the vermin." "A difficult undertaking." "Correct. Our electric bullets are ineffective against such soft flesh, where they don't meet enough resistance to go off. But we'll attack the beasts with axes." "And harpoons, sir," the Canadian said, "if you don't turn down my help." "I accept it, Mr. Land." "We'll go with you," I said. And we followed Captain Nemo, heading to the central companionway. There some ten men were standing by for the assault, armed with boarding axes. Conseil and I picked up two more axes. Ned Land seized a harpoon. By then the Nautilus had returned to the surface of the waves. Stationed on the top steps, one of the seamen undid the bolts of the hatch. But he had scarcely unscrewed the nuts when the hatch flew up with tremendous violence, obviously pulled open by the suckers on a devilfish's arm. Instantly one of those long arms glided like a snake into the opening, and twenty others were quivering above. With a sweep of the ax, Captain Nemo chopped off this fearsome tentacle, which slid writhing down the steps. Just as we were crowding each other to reach the platform, two more arms lashed the air, swooped on the seaman stationed in front of Captain Nemo, and carried the fellow away with irresistible violence. Captain Nemo gave a shout and leaped outside. We rushed after him. What a scene! Seized by the tentacle and glued to its suckers, the unfortunate man was swinging in the air at the mercy of this enormous appendage. He gasped, he choked, he yelled: "Help! Help!" These words, pronounced in French, left me deeply stunned! So I had a fellow countryman on board, perhaps several! I'll hear his harrowing plea the rest of my life! The poor fellow was done for. Who could tear him from such a powerful grip? Even so, Captain Nemo rushed at the devilfish and with a sweep of the ax hewed one more of its arms. His chief officer struggled furiously with other monsters crawling up the Nautilus's sides. The crew battled with flailing axes. The Canadian, Conseil, and I sank our weapons into these fleshy masses. An intense, musky odor filled the air. It was horrible. For an instant I thought the poor man entwined by the devilfish might be torn loose from its powerful suction. Seven arms out of eight had been chopped off. Brandishing its victim like a feather, one lone tentacle was writhing in the air. But just as Captain Nemo and his chief officer rushed at it, the animal shot off a spout of blackish liquid, secreted by a pouch located in its abdomen. It blinded us. When this cloud had dispersed, the squid was gone, and so was my poor fellow countryman! What rage then drove us against these monsters! We lost all self-control. Ten or twelve devilfish had overrun the Nautilus's platform and sides. We piled helter-skelter into the thick of these sawed-off snakes, which darted over the platform amid waves of blood and sepia ink. It seemed as if these viscous tentacles grew back like the many heads of Hydra. At every thrust Ned Land's harpoon would plunge into a squid's sea-green eye and burst it. But my daring companion was suddenly toppled by the tentacles of a monster he could not avoid. Oh, my heart nearly exploded with excitement and horror! The squid's fearsome beak was wide open over Ned Land. The poor man was about to be cut in half. I ran to his rescue. But Captain Nemo got there first. His ax disappeared between the two enormous mandibles, and the Canadian, miraculously saved, stood and plunged his harpoon all the way into the devilfish's triple heart. "Tit for tat," Captain Nemo told the Canadian. "I owed it to myself!" Ned bowed without answering him. This struggle had lasted a quarter of an hour. Defeated, mutilated, battered to death, the monsters finally yielded to us and disappeared beneath the waves. Red with blood, motionless by the beacon, Captain Nemo stared at the sea that had swallowed one of his companions, and large tears streamed from his eyes.

#20000Leagues

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