---Coconuts---
Passing between the gates to Bahari ya Kaskazini, in the dusk of the Zanzibari suns-set, reveals a thrumming street, crowded and bustling with activity.
I stare, apprehensively at the throng of Terrans, all artfully weaving between eachother in a way that looks like it should be inducing dozens of collisions a second… yet isn’t.
Victor catches up to me, Fluffy at his other side. Behind him are all of the other Triple Ms, a hovertray with a climate controlled box of tumbling mirklets on it and the Shings, who insisted on seeing the sights.
I look again at the crowd, then up at Victor.
“Cap?” he queries.
“I’m… just a little worried… about the possibility of… being trampled… I wonder… if it’s not too much to ask…?”
He chuckles “Is this you requestin’…?”
“Yes! Laugh it up, Victor! Your Captain is requesting [uppies]!”
He giggles like a fledgling but, wordlessly, bends down and places his hand on the ground, making a ramp of his arm.
I climb up to perch on his shoulder and he stands, lifting my head to around [3m] high.
From this height, I have a commanding view of the multitudes of Terrans.
The majority, of the Humans I can see, look like they are of the same extraction as Msia but about a third of them look to trace to other origin locales of Earth. Here and there, I spot AI avatars, Resurrectees and uplifts: there’s a feline, that’s a canine couple, he’s… a Denisovan(?), that one is a simian, a droid chatting with Human friends… It really is startling the variety of sapients that owe their existence to Humans’ desire not to be alone!
I look out to the ocean… It’s thoroughly breathtaking.
This was a nonlifebearing planet, before the Terrans got here, so adversarial to life that it hadn’t produced any. The polar oceans were what allowed them to settle; desalination allowed the verdant bands to be irrigated to support Terran crops and, the increased evaporation, created cloudcover which cooled the poles to the point that they could be inhabited, as Msia has explained to me since we've arrived.
I know that utility is beautiful, in its own way, but… that ocean is also beautiful… aesthetically… independent of the vibrant community it allows to exist...
Msia takes the lead. He excitedly gestures to the group to follow. It was at his insistence that we are walking this route rather than taking a shuttle, a monorail or calling a transport capsule.
He insists it is a short enough distance to walk and… I don’t hate the opportunity to traverse this spectacular city of deathworlders…
The Shings anxiously go to Msia’s side and Nou tugs at the sleeve of his shirt. He bends down to bring his ear to the level of her face. She talks for a moment before Msia’s face breaks into a broad smile. He crouches and gestures to his back. A look of delight crosses both of their faces before they gleefully hook their digitigrade paws into his belt, place their pawhands on his shoulders and he stands, now with Nahn’s head over his left shoulder and Nou’s over his right… it would appear they wanted [uppies] as well…(!)
“You alright, Mage? I’ve got carryin’ capacity left if you want me to take one of ‘em?” queries Victor.
Msia smiles “It’s quite alright, Cuddles!” he reaches up with both arms to scratch underneath their furred chins, causing their eyes to close blissfully “These two sweeties don’t mass as much as a 10 year old between them and I can carry a 10 year old who isn’t wearing a gravity field… With their climate fields covering me, I also won’t get sweaty. All good!”
As we begin walking through the throngs of Terrans, Fluffy receives much attention. There are many requests-to-scritch from passers-by. Victor indulges all of them, with Fluffy’s permission. The mirklets too are requested for pets and scritches but… it would likely be too exciting for them, so Hasiakh, Brunhilda, Tuun, Jennie and Krish are in formation, around the hovertray to deflect those requests toward Sam, who’s only too happy to accept them.
As we walk, Msia talks animatedly about the architecture, historical inspirations for design, local history and… almost everything else! Every cobblestone seems to have an inspiration from something centuries old, from Earth!
He also tells us about his own exploits in these locations from his days at university.
It’s fascinating to listen to him talk, even if it is somewhat overwhelming. He, sometimes, isn’t even able to finish one story before some aspect of the scenery presents a new, entirely unrelated, one!
“Guys, come here, you have to try these!” cries out Msia, leading us to a vendor who has a table, piled high with what look like massive green fruits.
He indicates to the vendor that he would like nine of the fruits on offer and the Triple Ms take a moment to arrange themselves in a rough semicircle, sat on the lip of pavement and the low wall, containing a raised patch of soil for, seemingly ornamental, greenery.
Victor remains standing and we all watch as the vendor picks up a [0.6m] metal blade and begins hacking away, at the green flesh of this fruit, with casual ease… the green fruit… he is holding… in his other hand!!!
How were enough Terrans, willing enough to lose fingers, to prove that this was a skill they could acquire!? Who was the first Terran to look at a fruit so tough, it needs a hefty metal blade to access the desirable part, and say 'Yes, I shall do that! In my hand, why not?'?!
At the very least it seems like this is a talent, judging by the looks on the faces of the Terran Triple Ms! (Hasiakh’s face suggests she thinks it some form of magic… which I would think too, if I weren’t so acquainted with them!)… At least this isn’t some hidden skill that all Terrans possess!
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As I watch the flurry of activity of that blade and the, almost bored, expression of the vendor, I feel my anxiety rise. My hearts start beating faster and I feel my body tensing…
“Ow! OW! OW!!! CapCapCAPCAPCAP!!!”
Shaken from my reverie, I look down to Victor’s face, what could possibly be causing that frantic tone?!
“What is it, Victor?” I say, hesitantly.
“You were hurting me!” he says, with seeming sincerity.
I’m dumbfounded.
Eventually, I manage “Hurting you?... I was hurting you?”
“Yes!”
That’s… ridiculous! Isn’t it?! I know that all the grip strength in my talons is not enough to… oh… [fuck]!
“I’m so sorry, Victor! I forgot about my bionic! Are you alright!?”
“I’m good, Cap. Don’t think it broke the skin… maybe just… no more clavicle crushers, alright?”
“Sorry again.”
Then I hear raucous laughter coming from the direction of the vendor.
I look up to see he has ceased his carving and is laughing jovially.
“I’m sorry, Ma’am, until I heard you speak, I assumed you were his pet!” he says, gesturing at Victor.
“I was not expecting that! What about this fine lady? Is she a sapient too?” he addresses Fluffy.
“Pet being! Daddy’s pet being! Fluffy being!” says Fluffy, nuzzling her head against Victors waist hard enough to knock him slightly off balance.
The vendor smiles “And what a fine pet you are!... Might I be permitted… a scritch?”
Fluffy narrows her eyes “Scritching letting… but Daddy’s pet being!”
“Of course! I don’t wish to steal you, no matter how much I know my granddaughter would love you!” he puts down the blade and the partially carved fruit and steps to Fluffy’s head. He places his hands between her ears and works them back and forward down the back of her neck. She closes her kwarat egg eyes and her lips part as she emits a deep, vibrato purr of pleasure.
“Good scritches being… Almost as good as Daddy’s being!”
The vendor laughs “I shall take that as high praise! Though I think my granddaughter may be able to give your Daddy a run for his money, in terms of scritch quality!… Her dog, Maua, says she gives the best scritches on Zanzibar… though… she might be biased!”
I feel Victor’s body shift, through my talons.
“Y’know, Sir… If you actually think your granddaughter would be a good fit for a mirkbeast… we’re takin’ that box o’ Fluffy’s babies to the uni… you could give my friend there your holocom, he could pass it on to his sister and… you could put her in contact with your granddaughter or her parents… I gotta warn you though, takin’ care of a mirkbeast ain’t easy! That lot might be fluffy beans, now, but they’re gonna grow up into massive creatures with high physicality, high demands on time, high calorie requirements and low tolerance to light and heat… which could be a problem, if she lives on this planet… I can only afford feedin’ ’em ‘cause Cap pays me so well! I also ain’t promisin’ she’d get one… there’re only eight and I imagine the competition for ’em’ll be pretty stiff!”
The vendor thinks before saying “You know… I think I’ll do that! Maybe nothing will come of it. She might not be interested, they might not decide to give her one but… nothing ventured…! I’m sorry, I’ve still got coconuts to give you!”
He returns to his table and his carving of the [coconut].
Once one side is slashed bare, he gives it to the nearest person, which happens to be Hasiakh.
She grasps the hacked open [coconut], her browscales raised in a quizzical expression.
Msia indicates that she is to place her mouth on the hole in the exposed, ligneous core and drink.
She does so. She gulps for several long seconds, clear juice running down her chin.
After an age she lowers it with a satisfied gasp.
“It appears… you Terrans… have free access… to all of the waters of the Eternal Oasis(!) I wonder how any people might become so blessed!”
There is general mirth at this, even if the finer points of her theology are not understood by all present… myself included.
I am offered some sips of Victor’s [coconut], Sam is offered some of Brunhilda’s and the Shings are offered some of Msia’s … him having, correctly, abducted that none of the four of us would be able to handle a whole one.
I am barely able to take three mouthfuls of the sweet, refreshing [coconut-water]. I can only imagine how restorative it would feel if I didn’t have a climate control field active!... Though… I probably wouldn’t be alive to find out!
A coconut is specially prepared for Fluffy and another for the mirklets. Smaller holes are made in the liquid bearing core, allowing them to lap them held sideways, then upside down, without the nectar spilling.
There is a final surprise as, once the first [coconut] is spent of liquid, the vendor indicates it to be given to him: With two confident chops, a fragment is cleaved almost entirely off and the [coconut] is split in half. It is then opened to reveal a slick layer of flesh. The vendor then instructs that the fragment he sliced can be torn off and used as an implement to scrape up the flesh to eat… I marvel again at how this was ever discovered, given that it required him hacking the [coconut] in half with the cutting edge aimed toward his own offhand palm!
When Fluffy’s is placed on the ground in front of her, that enormous, rough tongue scrapes against the woody flesh, utterly scouring it of its thin layer of nourishment. The mirklets also clear their [coconut] of flesh in a manner that the Terrans compare to ‘piranhas’!
I am given a sample of the jelly flesh. Words fail! Everything about the taste proudly screams ‘raw’ ‘pure’ and ‘natural’ yet, this texture… I’ve never encountered anything like it in nature!
Following the conclusion of the [coconut] bonanza, the vendor gives his holocom to Msia and takes payment, with a discount ‘for entertaining’ him!
I wonder at the rapidity with which Terrans can befriend! None of us had ever met that man before today, yet we parted as if old companions!
We continue wending through the streets, now artificially lit as both of Zanzibar’s binary suns have set.
Then I see something strange… I see another gardenworlder… besides me and the Shings… he’s an… Onigran?
I recognise that he’s certainly not a deathworlder or a roughworlder (I looked up all known roughworlders, after we got our second and it seemed like running into roughworlders might become a theme)! He stands, [3.6m] tall. He resembles a Terran, except he has bright red skin, black clawed hands and small black horns on his forehead. I don’t see any personal welfare field generators… are they hidden?
Then I notice the woman he’s stood beside, they are laughing and smiling at eachother in a manner that suggests deep affection.
And then, I see the strangest thing yet… a child… it’s clearly the hybrid child of the gardenworld man and the deathworld woman! He looks like a toddler but he’s already nearly as tall as his mother!
That child is definitely not a natural-born! The news would have rocked the galaxy if a natural pairing between deathworlders and gardenworlders had revealed itself to be capable of producing viable offspring! Everyone would know the name of that man’s species as adjoined to the fact that it was the one that could be crossed with Humans!
They must have gone to a fertility clinic and commissioned a viable mixing of their genes to produce that child… This isn’t the first hybrid I’ve encountered in my life… but he’s one of only a handful… it wouldn’t be unusual for a woman my age never to have encountered a hybrid… and I saw him on my first evening walk on this planet!
That man probably either had his welfare field generators permanently implanted in him or… much more invasive and less reversable… undergone gene therapy, to allow him to survive on this planet.
I look at the laughing woman… he did it for her!... He did it for love… He did it to allow that child to exist!... She made him love her enough to be willing to live on a deathworld with her after he, possibly, altered his own physiology to be capable of doing so!
The man notices me looking at him and closes his lips, he gives me a gardenworlder smile paired with a single deathworlder nod.
I return it.
My mind runs away with me for some time.
“We’re here!” announces Msia “My old university!”
I look up at the magnificent building, its exterior a vibrant rainbow of colours intricately woven into designs that one could spend a lifetime studying.
I chuckle to myself.
Deathworlders… really give you a lot to love about them!