The Glaciermen #17: Fishermen

Early access prepublication manuscripts of "The Glaciermen"

Hello Dear Readers,

And welcome to any new subscribers! I’m glad you’re here to join us in sharing this ancient tradition of humanity—mind control!

Just kidding, I really mean the tradition of stories (particularly written stories). As Steven King once noted, writing is telepathy—a sharing of minds between the author and the reader. And if you think about it, since multiple readers are sharing the mind of one author, then those readers are also sharing the same thoughts and feelings amongst themselves too: excitement, curiosity, thrill, sorrow, elation, and so on.

It makes me think of a drive-in theater: everyone is in their own car, but they are all experiencing the same movie. Together, just spaced out.

So, wherever you are, whether nestled in a comfy den, riding on an alpine train, or just taking a break at work, as you crack into this today, know that in some strange way you are not enjoying this alone, but can share in the thrill of the telepathic crowd, spread out across space and time.

(Link to previous segment if you missed it, and a link to the beginning, if you’re new).

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Fishermen

Loose pebbles crunched under Lee’s steps as he approached the group of fishermen at the edge of the chasm lake. He ran a hand across the stubble on his head. He was still getting used to the feeling of the chasm breeze on his bare scalp, and the daily ritual of shaving it was an unfamiliar chore for him. He still nicked himself occasionally, and he had learned the messy way that the scalp bleeds copiously from even a small cut.

Now he looked like everyone else, including the fishermen, who were busy collecting their nets after another day of laboring in the crystal waters. A basket full of catch signaled a successful haul. One of the men noticed Lee’s approach, tapping the elbow of one of his companions who was facing away.

“If it ain’t our little pale friend,” he said.

The other man turned around. Lee kept his face stone, hoping his resentment wouldn’t show.

“What are you doing here, boy? Do you not know fishing is man’s work?” Muktuk said, saying the words as if spitting rancid milk from his mouth.

Lee answered plainly: “Lusa told me to come help you since I’m done with her for today.”

“Ah,” Muktuk said, “I see the woman tires of you already. Well, I don’t need your help, boy, and I wouldn’t stoop to taking it anyway.”

“I’m just here to pull my weight… for the Bargain,” Lee said. The phrase was becoming a regular utterance for him.

The first man cut in, “Now wait a minute, Muktuk. He may be a pale whelp, but Lusa’s got a point about him doing work. I’ve been fishing all day, and now I got the choice of having the kid carry my gear? I’m not looking at passin’ that up.”

Lee wasn’t sure if he was supposed to feel wanted or belittled by the comment.

Muktuk shot a look of disdain at the man.

“He was not brought up in accordance with the Trials, Sugu. Do you want that stain on you?”

Sugu shrank at the vitriol in Muktuk’s tone. 

“I was just sayin’, you know, it’d be nice to have some help,” Sugu said,  “And we could make him sweat a bit, for being an outsider and all.”

Lee watched with apprehension as Muktuk’s narrow face contorted into a grin.

“You know, Sugu, that is actually a fantastic idea.”

Sugu’s face lit up at the uncharacteristic compliment. “Really?”

“Yes, really. Now don’t you worry about carrying any of your things. And you two, leave it all here,” Muktuk said, speaking to the other two fishermen. “Our pale friend seems to enjoy his lowly place, and has generously offered to bring all of our things back to the village for us so we can enjoy a leisurely evening. Isn’t that so, boy?”

Lee gulped, looking at the numerous piles of fishing implements laying about the stones.

“Don’t make me ask again,” Muktuk said, taking a step toward Lee.

“Um, yeah, yes,” Lee stammered.

“Good. Now get to it. I’m sure that upstart master of yours won’t mind if you aren’t back for a while.”

Lee was silent. Aguta would not be happy—but Lee couldn’t say that, of course.

“That’s what I thought,” Muktuk said, then turning to his fellow fisherman, “Leave us. I would have a few words with the boy alone.”

When the other men had ambled off, Muktuk crouched in front of Lee. He held his face just inches away from Lee’s. His narrow features curled into a contemptuous scowl.

“Don’t think I don’t see you, boy. I know what you are—surface dweller. That’s right. I may have been born in this shithole chasm, but I’m not naive. I’ve seen your kind before. You look at us like we’re some stone-age savages, but you are sorely mistaken. And so is Aguta—both of you disgust me.”

Muktuk grimaced and stepped back from Lee to face the lake. He struck a musing pose, crossing one arm over his chest and resting his elbow on one hand while stroking his chin with the other. Lee stayed quiet.

“Why do you think I serve the tunlaq? Do you think it is fear? The others are afraid, yes—the women, many of the men. They see the tunlaq as monsters, beasts created by some ancient darkness, ones for whom the only strategy for survival is to bow in servility. They cower and snivel, toiling in their labors in the hopes of being granted another year of this miserable life.

“I am not afraid. The tunlaq are not monsters. They were us, long ago, and now, they are still us—just better. They hold a power that places them above human weakness. Their shamans have unlocked secrets we could only dream of, power we cannot even imagine. And I, worthy Muktuk, will earn their trust. Gain their approval with my diligence, my ruthlessness. They will see that I am like them, and they will welcome me into their rank, share with me their power.

“And you. You are the monster, the aberration. You are weak and pathetic—look at you! It is impossible that you could have passed the First Trial, another thing that treacherous Aguta has no doubt lied about. You do not belong here, boy. And when I gain my rightful place among the tunlaq, I will tell them of the outsiders among us."

Muktuk turned from the lake to face Lee again, a venomous glare in his eyes.

“And they do not like outsiders.”

At that, Muktuk walked off after the others, leaving Lee alone at the stony shore of the lake. The boy pondered the strange monologue for some time. Waves lapped gently onto the stones, and the strange chasm breeze tickled across Lee’s scalp. He was used to being treated poorly by now, but Muktuk had never struck him as having a few screws loose, as dumb as his son Nantuk was. 

Lee shrugged to himself. It was just another mystery to which he would get a sideways answer from Aguta. He looked at the piles of fishing equipment around him and sighed. It would take several trips across the uneven pebbles to bring it all back to the village, and Aguta was expecting him back in time for another lesson that evening. It would have to wait.

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And that’s it for now folks

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– Xavier Macfarlane

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