Love, Death and Robots. Volumes 2 & 3

In the crew quarters, Torrin changed his shit-smeared trousers before going on deck. He listened at the door to the arguing that was going on before opening it. The arguments died and absolute silence fell as he walked out on the planking. Jorvan was the first to break that silence.

“Did it have no taste for you then, Torrin?” he wondered, but without his usual firmness.

Torrin walked up to him and stood face to face. He still felt sick with fear, but what was Jorvan? Just a man. He slapped Jorvan so hard across the face that the man stumbled and fell to his knees.

“Hold him right there if you all want to live,” Torrin said.

Deacon grabbed Jorvan first. Melis pulled the harpoon from Jorvan’s hands and hit him with its butt as he continued to struggle. Jorvan sagged in Deacon’s arms, and Deacon lowered him to the deck.

“What do you have to say, Torrin? How is it that you live?” Jorvan asked.

“I live because I negotiated,” said Torrin, and waited, daring them to laugh or to sneer, but he just saw the expressions of men who were very much afraid.

“What truce do we have?” asked Calis.

“Just that,” said Torrin, “a truce. The thanapod calls itself Cerval, the name of the deeps god, so make of that what you will.” Torrin noted the expressions on the faces of the more superstitious of the crew: the likes of Deacon, Maril, and Chantre, and Saparin who now had the helm. He felt a horrible glee bubbling inside himself, and went on, “It wants us to take it in to port, to one of the islands, and for this service it will let us live. That’s all. That’s the whole of the bargain, the truce.”

“Liar,” managed Jorvan, before vomiting on the deck. He then struggled to get upright, and Deacon stood back to allow it.

“It is the truth,” Torrin affirmed, noting many of the crew still appeared undecided.

“That is not Cerval,” said Jorvan, finally on his feet now. He glared about himself. “He’ll lead you deeper into disaster. We must take to the shark boat and leave this ship. Eventually the thanapod will grow hungry and leave, and we can return. There is no need for this.”

“Cerval has fed,” said Torrin. “Do you want to spend even a day in the shark boat on these deeps?” He pointed and fate was on his side, for the fin of a huge jable shark was cutting the swell parallel to the ship. Perhaps some of the blood had run into the sea to attract it. Torrin added, “Do you want to spend any time out there over Cerval’s realm?”

“The creature below is not Cerval,” insisted Jorvan.

Torrin replied, “No, it’s just a talking thanapod three times the size of any that has ever before been seen.”

“I’m with Torrin,” said Deacon. He turned to Melis who nodded. Other members of the crew nodded their agreement also, and looked to Torrin for guidance. Torrin felt that his glee might bubble out of his mouth at any moment.

“Of course, if we feed Cerval, he will not quickly grow hungry,” Torrin said.

The crew acted with Jorvan as they had acted with Torrin. There was little more discussion once the decision was made. They lifted him up and carried him screaming to the forward hatch.

“You fools! He’ll get you all killed! You can’t do this!”

Torrin helped Deacon open the hatch and lift off the cover. Torrin leant over and spoke into the darkness. “Cerval, this man is not essential. He is an offering from us to you,” he said.

Deacon gazed at him with sick horror, perhaps only now understanding what they were doing. Torrin wondered if that horror had been there when he himself had been forced below.

“No! No! Please! You’re making a mistake!”

Jorvan clung to the top of the ladder, pushing against the hatch cover as they forced it closed over him. He kept yelling until Deacon kicked the latch into place, then went silent thereafter.

Torrin knew what he was feeling now. He stepped back as from below came the sound as of stones dragged across wood.

“Let me out! Please! Let me out!”

There came a whickering sucking sound followed by a hammering against the hatch. Jorvan screamed a long high-pitched scream, which terminated as something crashed hard against the hatch nearly breaking the hinges and latch. His screaming recommenced from deeper in the hold, but this time it was a deep and agonised sound.

They all heard the crunching.

Torrin wondered if there was anything worse than being eaten alive. He smiled a lopsided smile that he quickly shut off as he turned to the crew. “Right, lads, let’s get that mainsail up.”

* * *

“So, it’s decided: we’ll dock at Phaiden Island. It’s closest and none of us have any kin there,” said Torrin.

“Threw me out of the tavern there,” said Melis, and Calis grumbled agreement.

“Never gave a good price for jable,” said Deacon.

“Bloody skinflints,” Chantre added.