Chedderfield

“It’s so quiet . . .” Danielle mumbled and leaned against Chedderfield as the two of them walked into the gift shop in the morning, the sun already having risen enough to practically blind them as it came through the windows.

Chedderfield appreciated the silence though. This was one of the few moments of peace he’d been given since the end of the world had turned everything upside down. He could smell the jasmine-scented shampoo from Danielle’s recent shower before they relieved their stress and intertwined. He murmured back, “Yeah, it’s kinda nice isn’t it?”

She mumbled as she leaned against Chedderfield. “It feels too quiet.”

“There’s just a lot less of us,” Chedderfield said, feeling a pang of guilt as he thought about the missing members. He knew before they had even made it clear that Samar and Dorothy were never going to return. He was kind of happy about it too. At least they wouldn’t be as likely to die with Stephanie, but he was still struggling with the loss of Dicky and Michael. Despite only having known the old guys for a short time, he had grown to see them as friends, and their horrific deaths were something he wouldn't want anyone to experience.

As the two of them snuggle-walked into the gift shop, Chedderfield’s moment of contemplation was broken by a woman’s voice coming from the other side of an improvised barrier they’d erected last night for some privacy.

“Honestly, I’m surprised Lucy over there hasn’t said a word,” Nguyen noted from behind the barrier where she, Lucy and Emma were.

“What? Huh? Oh . . .” Lucy looked like she had just been woken up in the middle of class. “I figure you talk enough for the both of us. No need for me to fill the air every five seconds with something when you’ve got that covered.”

“I talk a lot?” Nguyen asked, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “That is a first.”

“If the silence is that uncomfortable, I could recount for you all the sirrusu’s glorious conquests during the unification of our world. I have a hundred such historical accounts I could share that might aid or inspire you all in future battles,” Chip offered as he walked into the gift shop carrying a tray of sliced fish and kelp.

The short, furry alien-chipmunk translator had brought the group breakfast every morning since they’d taken over the aquarium. He insisted that fresh meat was the best way to start the day and that since they lived on a “fish farm,” they should take advantage of it.

“Nope!” Archimedes yelled.

“Oh, did you want the honor of telling the stories? I know how much you enjoyed my translation of Hot Sauce and Redeye’s recounting of the battle of Isenkrade.”

“As cool as it was to hear about how thirty lizardmen took down a mecha-brachiosaurus, I don’t think we have enough time in the day for one of those stories,” Archimedes said. “Not to mention, no one else is going to want to eat that raw fish. You’d be better off bringing them stale chips and canned chili from the cafeteria.”

“Really? They won’t eat raw fish? That is surprising. After observing your eating habits, I had just assumed humans would eat anything, rotten or fresh,” Chip said.

“Beggars can’t be choosers,” Archimedes shrugged, “but don’t think I don’t know Leap Frog used to conspire with you to see exactly what I would tolerate eating. Perry filled me in on it, and the only reason I ate half those things was because there was a card up for grabs in my name from that betting pool.”

This caused Chip to take a step back, and while Chedderfield and the others laughed, Chip himself looked mortified at having been found out.

“I assure you, Master Archimedes, it was never my intention! I had to listen to Leap Frog as she was the seni—”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry about it,” Archimedes interrupted, brushing off the issue, but Chedderfield could tell that the mention of the lizard Leap Frog had caused Arc’s mood to darken.

A series of hooting and hissing sounds from above made Cheddefield look up, and he saw the four alien lizard creatures that Archimedes had brought with him through the portal coming down the stairs from the alligator enclosure area. They’d chosen to sleep up there rather than down on the ground floor. Chip had explained that they preferred the habitat recreation of the giant alligator since it was warmer, and they had missed the humidity and moisture.

As the four lizard women reached the main hallway, Chip was quick to run toward them, his tray of fish and kelp held out. The lizards each took some of the fish and kelp and ate it without even looking down at the subservient Chip. Once they finished eating, they walked over to the gift shop and started to hoot and hiss at Archimedes.

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Chip translated, “The Great Ones say that it has been fine to rest and heal but that they ask when they will next be sent into glorious battle?” There was another series of sounds from the lizard with one fang and Chip continued, “Expansion is the key to victory against the enemy.”

“We fought a lot yesterday just to clear immediate threats in the area around the aquarium. Was that not enough battle and expansion?” Chedderfield asked.

Chip glanced at Chedderfield as he asked his question and seemed about to answer when one of the lizards started to speak again as if she were ignoring Chedderfield completely while they spoke to Archimedes. Chip translated, “It is clear that the low-ranking hell-cursed we have fought with in the last day are not strong enough to offer a proper battle. Unlike the damage we did to the Insecta Chimera faction when we first seized the base, the tiny skirmishes from yesterday were not sufficient to even dent the great forces of the hell-cursed that are spreading across your world, much less make any progress toward ensuring the tribe’s victory over them.”

Archimedes looked up at the creatures and gave a guttural hiss and hoot. The lizards seemed to respond in a kind of hissing laugh, and Chip answered, “Your Sirrušu is improving, but you said ‘Death to the food stuff’ not ‘Death to the enemy.’”

“Well, it's the thought that counts,” Archimedes replied with a shake of his head.

“Technically, given Archimedes’ skill choices, ‘food stuff’ and ‘enemy’ are probably synonymous in his mind,” Danielle chimed in.

“Yes, yes. Funny wordplay with the aliens,” Nguyen said with a sigh and a shake of her head. “But seriously, we need to figure out what our game plan is. From the information you’ve given us, the hell-cursed destroyed the aliens’ entire world. I don’t want to see that happen here. If we can learn something from their experiences, I say we listen.”

“To be more specific, they destroyed the ‘Great Ones’ because the lizardmen suicided themselves onto the enemy’s base if I recall correctly,” Chedderfield pointed out. “No open field battles as they just sacrificed themselves trying to take other bases.”

Nguyen nodded. “Good observation. Even on Earth, all of our wars have been such that defenders often take significantly fewer casualties than attackers. Laying siege is always more strenuous on manpower than resisting an occupation. Was there a specific reason that the . . . sir . . . Sirrisi? Surusu? The ‘Great Ones’ did not entrench themselves and take advantage of their terrain familiarity and technological capabilities during the early stages but instead chose to lead offensive pushes against the enemy?”

Chip relayed their statements and questions, and the one Archimedes had called Hot Sauce hissed a response that Chip translated, “Every aspect of our people was dedicated to war and aggression. Our downfall came from the terrible early losses, before we understood our enemy. We would not make the same mistakes again.”

“So if defending or whatever is better than attacking, then we just need to get them to attack us, right?” asked Emma, who had been largely quiet while the adults talked.

“The kid isn’t wrong,” Chedderfield said. “But also . . . my brother used to brag that if you really made it in life, and were doing well, people would try to kill you and take yours.”

“Used to? Did he die too?” Lucy asked. “Wait, did the little gangster wannabe get shot before or after the apocalypse?”

“Uh, no. He’s not dead. He’s just a town over, down the freeway. But his point was that you can’t just sit on your gains. You have to expand. So I think it's going to be a balance for us. We need to do both. Go conquer more bases and take cores to build our own territory.”

“True . . .” Archimedes thought, scratching his chin. “But, let’s be fair, that’s the same mentality the sirrušu had—and, at the moment, our world isn’t covered in hell-cursed bases. We don’t have to take them over to expand. We can either build our own, or we can vassalize other factions and maybe try to stack those benefits. That might even help us deal with the fact that unlike the other groups growing around us, like Brad’s group or Stephanie’s, we don’t even have a dozen people with us.”

“I’ll be Captain Danielle! Setting up Klingon outposts across the alien lands of Terra!”

“You mean Earth?” Chedderfield asked for clarification, remembering vaguely that “Terra” was the word Klingons used for Earth.

“Indeed, Khoo-man,” Danielle replied.

“There is no hiding from the enemy,” Chip translated for Sharpfang. “Your world is forever changed. Conflict is inevitable. The only question is if you will seek it out or wait for it to find you.”

“I vote for the power of friendship!” Emma said with a squeal.

“Yeah, why aren’t we talking about just making alliances?” Chedderfield asked and then turned to Danielle, “And why are you even on board with the Klingon way of conquering? Shouldn’t you be pro-Federation or something?”

“You saw the bonuses we got from our faction-specific vassalization method. We need that, and we need the manpower. It might not be the good guy way of doing things . . . but the alternative is that we all die horribly, with the remainder of us living in hiding as we wait for thirst and hunger to finish us off,” Archimedes said roughly, pausing to take a deep breath after he spoke.

“That . . .” Emma started, but left the word hanging as her thoughts trailed off.

The word was left hanging, and the group’s expressions grew more solemn as Archimedes' words truly sank in for everyone. Archimedes sighed and shook his head. “I’m sorry, but none of you have seen what I have. You haven’t seen the dead world that the hell-cursed will create if we let them grow. This isn’t something our group is going to be able to deal with alone. We’ll need every person we can get to wipe them off our world. And if we have to push them into it, that’s what we’ll do.”

The tense atmosphere was thick enough that Chedderfield thought he might be able to cut it with a cheese knife. This was the type of conversation he’d normally have left hanging, left for someone else to pick up, but seeing the way Archimedes was looking, he felt compelled to say something. “If that’s how you feel, Arc, if that’s what you’ve seen, then I got your back, bro.”