Chapter Seven

“In Which Arnaud Tells Everyone

That Nothing in Life is to be Feared, Only Understood”

1.

ALTHOUGH ANNABELLE WANTED to insist she could continue a little longer, when Folkard called for a rest, she silenced her natural impulse. They had been walking for longer than she cared to consider and Highmore was not looking his best. As they all sat, he confessed mild claustrophobia was proving to be ten times worse on Phobos. She overheard Nathaniel say that probably accounted for his actions on board Esmeralda 2, and while Nathaniel was no doubt right, she could not be so forgiving.

How he would fare as they carried on remained to be seen. The irregular tunnel, which she had at first thought was flat, had in fact been leading gradually down, the slant so slight she barely noticed. When she had remarked upon it, no one reacted in surprise though clearly they all had become so intent on placing one foot before the other while taking care they did not bash their heads on the uneven ceiling, none had given it thought.

When they broke into a larger cavern, and Folkard told everyone to rest, she saw sense and sat without complaint, taking the refreshment offered. She wasn’t hungry but was grateful for the water. Still, she ate, taking no notice of what she consumed or even the flavour. Her body required fuel, the food was fuel, so she consumed it. She remained quiet, aware of conversation, questions from Highmore addressed to Folkard and Nathaniel about their trip to Luna. His query mainly seemed to be of how far tunnels such as these could extend, but really, the man might as well have asked how long was a piece of string. Luna was far larger than Phobos. Indubitably, this was also another world. Fine…it was a satellite, and of a finite size, but to call it a world was accurate enough. It was a world unto itself. Tunnels could loop back on themselves, lead in circles. The aether and the astral bodies within its sphere contained mysteries far beyond human understanding. Highmore’s questions were not to do with scientific enquiry. The man was suffering. Any fool could see that. At least when they’d been moving, he’d fallen into silence. She tried her best to be sympathetic but if Phobos heightened some senses, maybe it suppressed others, such as compassion.

Elizabeth Highmore sat with her eyes closed, either pained by her brother’s outburst or oblivious to it. Her expression looked…quite peaceful. Her temples throbbing, Annabelle considered how she longed for just a few moments of peace herself. Now that she was fed and watered, Annabelle was eager to continue.

Rising quietly, Annabelle stepped over the outcrop of rock she had been sitting on and headed into the tunnel on the other side. She would not go far, and even if the others noticed her missing, the cave had one entrance and one exit. They would catch up with her. She left her rifle, but took her gun.

She had only ventured a few feet when light from her lantern caused something to sparkle. Intrigued, Annabelle moved ahead, taking a wide berth where the tunnel curved, bracing for attack. This tunnel was as empty as the one she had left, but the light definitely reflected.

Annabelle put away her gun to free one of her hands. She soon discovered the source of increased illumination. Small rocks such as the quartz Highmore had acquired littered the ground. Snagging one, Annabelle held it in front of the light. Just like a prism, the glow passed through and dispersed in a wider spectrum, in turn bouncing off similar rocks on the ground and being thrown out to brighten her surroundings. The effect was beautiful. Flickering flames of radiance shimmered against the cavern walls, the glow alternately pale yellow and occasionally pale red as to appear as rust. Annabelle reasoned the cause was the colour of the quartz and the red colour of the…dust, not sand. Indeed, Arnaud was right. Fortunately, the floor of the tunnels had given way to hard rock for to walk upon the dust kicked up a fine powder, one that tickled the nose, and she imagined, probably unkind to one’s lungs.

Taking the time to admire the trick of light, Annabelle blinked when something else caught her eye. Something black.

Moving towards the object, she was reminded of her false leg, as she had to adjust her gait in order to reach over the rocky outcrop to snag the black rock she had seen.

Not rock. Slate? The moment she drew it into the light she could see that the flaky texture of the find in some ways supported that idea, but although flat, the slate also had a curve. Not only that, it glittered.

Turning her acquisition, Annabelle spied a myriad of colours. Black was the base, but it shimmered green, purple, blue and pink. Could this too be quartz? A type of mineral? Was the centre of Phobos in truth a geologist’s idea of heaven? How exciting for Arnaud.

Pocketing the mysterious slate, Annabelle calculated she hadn’t gone far. Just a few feet more would enable her to see if there were more pieces and then she would take her discovery back to Arnaud. Facing forward, she spied a tight split in the rock. No trouble for her to slip through, though some of the men would be hard pressed.

The tunnel continued on the other side, and yes, there laid another piece of rainbow quartz. Picking it up, she almost dropped it again as a clear, almost musical female voice rang out.

“Are you off on your own adventure, Miss Somerset?”

The other woman was so slight she walked through the split with ease. Despite her audacious phrasing, Elizabeth appeared shy, glancing at Annabelle uncertainly.

“Are you not going to tell me to return to the men?” Elizabeth asked after some moments.

“So you can inform them I’ve wandered off and I have to listen to complaints?” Annabelle had no reason to be snappish, having, indeed, wandered off. Nathaniel for one would not be happy with her. Neither would George if he were here. She could only hope he never heard of this.

“Not at all. And I skip out on my brother all the time.”

“You do? Pray tell, where do you go? Into the garden without his knowing?”

Maybe it was the flickering glow or maybe Elizabeth blushed.

“I’m…sorry. That was uncalled for.”

“I had thought you were being kinder to me of late, but I see your feelings towards me still appear to fluctuate, and yet you make a stand by my side when it is important.”

“I stand by you when it is a matter of emancipation.”

“The equality of women? It is an interesting notion.”

“It is no notion. Something you might learn if you travelled more.”

“You do not mean to tell me that the females of Mars are equal to their males?”

“In some ways, no, but in others, yes. There are differing races on Mars just as there are on Earth and as many perspectives.”

“I have to say these…garments are more practical.” Elizabeth ran her hands over the trousers she now wore. When Annabelle had suggested they would be more practical for getting in and out of a spacesuit, Elizabeth had refused, and Highmore had been almost outraged. When told if they had to remove the suit once underground it would leave Elizabeth in nothing but her undergarments their objections had ceased.

“Yes. I dare say if more women tried on trousers, skirts might become obsolete.” Casting her gaze about, Annabelle looked for more of the slate. “So, have you discovered a taste for adventuring?”

“I have always had such, and so does Joseph despite his protests. He even balloons on the weekend.”

Annabelle shot the other woman a look to see whether she was serious. When Elizabeth’s twinkling gaze and small smile displayed she was joking the two women burst out laughing.

“I…suppose, to one as widely travelled as yourself I must seem frivolous. I…regret we seemed to get off on a bad footing and yet there have been glimpses into what could be a friendship, if we are both so inclined?” The lilt of Elizabeth’s voice made that last a question. Aware of the underlying hope in the other woman’s tone, Annabelle relented.

“I do not find you…frivolous. I am sure you are a perfect example of womanhood as deigned by London’s standards, but I… Oh, that did not sound as I intended.”

Elizabeth sighed. “I quite know what you mean. You would abhor my home life. ‘We have guests, Elizabeth. Attend them, Elizabeth. Order the servants to bring refreshments, Elizabeth. Your hem is too short, Elizabeth.’” As she spoke, Elizabeth swayed left and right, little curtsies to invisible guests. Her tone had taken on a pitch that quite replicated Joseph’s voice. She looked at Annabelle at the conclusion; the two women stared at one another, before laughing again.

“What do you have there?” Elizabeth gestured towards another piece of slate Annabelle had just discovered.

“Quartz of some kind, possibly. If this moon is indeed a great find of precious or semi-precious stones then I can quite understand why someone would have mining interests.”

“I can see that. In either case, whether it was for gems or land, they would not be reasons for my Henry coming here.”

“No?”

Another sigh ensued. “I must seem like a silly lovestruck girl to come all this way looking for my fiancé.”

“Nothing of the sort.” Annabelle’s thoughts were full of George just then. She picked up another piece of slate.

“Hmm…no. Perhaps not. The captain is not without compassion, but I feel you appreciate that I had no choice in the matter. Does Nathaniel have a wife?”

“N-nooo,” Annabelle said carefully.

“Yet I am sure that if he did and she was out here alone that he would come after her.”

“Yes, quite,” Annabelle said, remembering Nathaniel’s insistence that they go to Ceres to find Arnaud.

“And yet it is true.” Elizabeth stopped walking so that Annabelle had to turn to face her. “I am frivolous because I’ve never known any better. Now I do, and it has taken me losing my Henry before we even began life together to make me see that.”

“Do not give up hope.”

“Oh, I do not mean he is necessarily deceased, but I have lost him almost as assuredly. Coming here was Henry’s dream. Not here,” Elizabeth gestured with her hands in a manner Annabelle guessed to mean Phobos. “But out into the aether. My brother is quite correct. Henry has an explorer’s heart and he… What was that?”

A sound like the skittering of stones, but not. Annabelle felt the hair on her nape stand to attention. “Nothing.” She gazed around. “We have come farther than I intended. We should start back.”

“Won’t the men be coming shortly? Can we not wait?”

“Most assuredly not.” Taking Elizabeth’s arm, Annabelle propelled her back the way they had come. It couldn’t be. Yet she had recognised that sound. Although it wasn’t entirely the same…a strange chittering could mean only one thing, even though this moon was so much smaller and so far away from Luna…

“I have indeed lost him,” Elizabeth Highmore was saying. “One adventure, but now that he has had a taste for it, one will not be enough for my Henry.”

“If that be his choice, can you not join him?” Sweeping her lantern around, Annabelle gazed down the path from whence they had come. Where were the others? They should have caught up by now.

“Henry? Adventuring? Oh…no, I… Well, I suppose I…could.” Elizabeth became absorbed. “It would make Joseph most unhappy,” she said as if speaking to herself. “Do we have to march this quickly?”

“I have no wish to alarm you, but…” The quartz. The slate. The iridescent beauty of it. It’s curved shape.

“Which is just the thing to say that will alarm me.” At least Elizabeth now picked up the pace. Both women gazed about, ahead, behind and to the sides. “What… Eeek!” Elizabeth stumbled back. Annabelle turned to look at from what the other woman retreated and saw there, at the side of the path, a disturbance in the dust, shifting sand, rising up, black that flashed with iridescent loveliness.

Not slate: Shell! How could she have been so foolish not to recognise it? She was so busy watching the creature unfurl she was barely aware of Elizabeth’s tugging.

“Here we go again,” she muttered, even as Elizabeth demanded, “Kill it! Kill it!”

“I’m not sure I can.” Would her stiletto pass through? Would a bullet from her revolver make an impression? True the Selenites of Luna died too easily but this…creature had as many differences as it had similarities.

Undoubtedly, a beetle, with a three-part segmented body, the lower, largest third from which four legs protruded. The middle part was wider than it was long and looked like a collar surrounding the head. Another two legs or arms jutted from this collar, and atop that, a head of shell with a small amount of exposed, softer flesh contained what she supposed were the eyes and mouth. The ends of the hands and feet were somewhat forked. Medium to small hairs lined the edges of the shells. One edge lower down had sustained slight damage, but that did not mean a bullet would penetrate. Feelers twitched, testing, tasting, the air. Had it been laying in wait?

“Can we outrun it?”

“Doubtful. And I cannot be sure that is wise any more than attacking it would be.”

“Are you not afraid?”

“Of a large bug? You have definitely not been to Luna.” The question was whether this creature was in any way as friendly as K’chuk had been. Even among the Selenites discrepancies existed in their behaviour and one could not forget the decidedly unfriendly red Saltators. She could only judge this creature by its behaviour and had yet to ascertain its intentions. If this was an adult then these creatures were far smaller than the giant ants of Luna. This one reached her waist and made it appear somewhat childlike, although it was unwise to let that fool her.

“Don’t go near it!” Hands clutched at her waist as Annabelle took a step.

“One of us must do something.” From her pocket, she produced the scraps of shell. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t know what this was. I found it pretty.”

One of the arms reached out. Annabelle stood her ground, as the creature took a piece in what amounted to something resembling a claw. Although it didn’t appear to be greatly dextrous, she suspected it would be able to slice through her skin, even amputate her wrist with ease. That it took the shell with marked gentleness amazed her.

“I am Annabelle. And this is Elizabeth.” The creature replied with more chittering but whether it could understand her, she certainly could not understand it. A stretch to hope these creatures knew English as well as K’chuk’s race, if at all.

The beetle handed back the shell and she took it, bowing. After a fashion, the creature bowed back. Had she made a friend?

Glancing at Elizabeth, she said; “Now, isn’t this adventuring?”

2.

“WHAT THE DUCE?”

“Blimey.”

Highmore spoke first, Nathaniel second and the word sounded so incongruous coming from his mouth that Annabelle almost laughed. She looked up from where she was seated on a rock. “Do not tell me the sight of a larger than normal insect disturbs you so, Nathaniel.”

“It hardly needs saying. I fear the day I grow used to such things.”

“Now that I understand.”

“Elizabeth, get away from that thing!” Highmore not only scolded his sister, he moved to shoulder Annabelle’s rifle, which he was carrying.

“None of that, sir.” Folkard disarmed him before the aristocrat did something foolish. Annabelle received her weapon with gratitude and made a mental note not to leave it lying around again.

“But…it’s a beast!”

“Yes, but they have giant ants on Luna, Joseph. Friendly ones.” Elizabeth sounded almost giddy. If not for the fact that Annabelle could feel her trembling, she put on a good show of fearlessness. Nathaniel shared a look with Annabelle she read easily: Had she not told Elizabeth of the unfriendly creatures they had also encountered? She gave him an innocent expression.

“Careful, Miss,” Whitlock interjected.

Highmore did not appear able to look away from the creature. “Elizabeth, do not be so stupid.”

Elizabeth flinched as if stung. Annabelle glared at Highmore. “Stupid to believe me or to remain close to this creature?”

“Both. Either. Alas, Elizabeth cannot tell when people are teasing her.”

“You do not believe? Not even what you see with your own eyes?” Annabelle made sure her tone revealed her annoyance. Highmore’s company grew tiring. “It must be wonderful to be so selective. Bad enough that you should call us liars, sir, but you are not blind.”

“But how can a creature grow so large?”

Nathaniel fulfilled his role as a scientist. “There are many theories. It is said creatures of the deep grow to considerable size. Variations in pressure could have something to do with it.”

The explanation seemed to be enough for Highmore, or he was simply so stunned he didn’t care. It saved anyone having to explain the Heart and the evolution of the Selenites. Annabelle knew she could not be the only one to whom this had occurred. The mystery deepened.

“I admit…the first sight…” Elizabeth gave a little shiver. “It takes some getting used to.”

Folkard intervened. “The point being, Highmore, that to shoot this creature could cause an outbreak of hostilities we can otherwise avoid. And where there is one creature, there are liable to be others. We could bring a swarm upon us.”

“The captain is right. I was following a trail of these.” Annabelle held out a fragment of shell that the others passed around and examined. While they did, she made a point of asking Nathaniel what had kept him.

“We made a discovery of our own. The monolith feeds into the ground.” Nathaniel looked up as if he could see through the crust of Phobos. “I do not know how deep it extends, but I assure you, it pierces this moon. Add to this to what we know of the skeletons found both on Hygeia and Phobos, and now these insects, it would seem we are in a similar situation as we found on Luna. Our simple rescue mission just grew more complex.”

That it had, even more so when an exclamation rang out.

“Magnifique! Scarabaeoidea. More commonly, a dung beetle,” Arnaud explained as others looked upon him. “I should have recognised it the moment I… How do you say? Set sight on it?”

Elizabeth had quickly withdrawn her hand, which had been patting the edge of the creature’s shell. Annabelle continued with the petting. “I suppose that accounts for the lack of smell.”

Nathaniel gave her a look.

“Does nothing faze you people?” Highmore muttered.

“Nothing in life is to be feared, only understood,” Arnaud said with great cheer. “I am not saying that is what it is. It is, after all, not my field. But I suppose it must exist on something and one explanation is as good as any. I have never seen one of such magnitude, of course, and can only tell you that on Earth some also feed on decaying vegetation, leaves, mushrooms, fruits. Some even ingest small millipedes. Those that survive on dung do not need to feed on anything else because they get all their nutrients from…”

“Fontaine! Really. There are ladies present.”

The Frenchman pulled a strained expression at Highmore’s curse, and fell silent. Annabelle spoke.

“If they feed on dung, then pray tell…what excretes it?”

3.

THE BEETLE SEEMED tired of Annabelle’s petting. They all looked at each other, an open question in their eyes. The beetle paused at the next intersection turning to gaze back.

“I believe it wishes us to follow,” Arnaud said.

“You are anthropomorphising an animal,” Highmore accused.

“Only from expérience. Well done on the correct use of such a long word, though.”

“Gentleman, please,” Annabelle interrupted before things could get out of hand.

As they followed the creature deeper into Phobos, Annabelle sidled beside Nathaniel. “Nathaniel, I am beginning to think there should be only so much burden on one quest team at one time. Although…it is exciting, is it not?”

“I…do rather find I am enjoying myself, when the…influence of this place wears off. I have to confess to almost constant irregular feelings of…dread.” Although he admitted to the fact he seemed to need to search for the correct word to explain his emotions.

“Yes…. I do not like admitting it, but I too have found my feelings reprehensible. I think it is safe to assume that something here is not only inducing fear but playing with our emotions.”

4.

TWO HOURS LATER, they broke out into a much larger cave. Light here did not seem to be an issue. A single lantern reflected in a continuous pattern from many of the clear gems scattering the floor and, in places, the walls seemed to be lined with it. A small incandescent flower, which the beetles also appeared to eat, carpeted areas of the cave and these too sent sufficient light to reflect from the walls so that they were able to conserve their lanterns.

“So they do eat some type of vegetation.” Annabelle smiled at Arnaud.

“Incredible that anything can grow down here,” Highmore said, but his voice sounded strained rather than wondrous.

“Are you feeling the effects of claustrophobia again?”

“No, Miss Somerset. Thank you for asking. The effects have…eased.” He sounded as puzzled by that as they all were. “And you, Elizabeth, seem quite untroubled.” Of them all, the other woman appeared most calm.

“I would not say completely. I have experienced some anxiety, more so than I would say is normal. Some of that I can attribute to the situation, but not all. I do not believe I am as troubled as the rest of you.”

“I wonder why,” Highmore said. “You never have liked insects and so I would have thought these would petrify you, and with just cause.”

“Maybe I’m too stupid to be affected or afraid.”

Gaping, Highmore stared at his sister. Before he could voice his thoughts, Annabelle said; “Just because we’re surrounded by giant beetles, do not assume that is a bad thing, Mister Highmore.”

Several of the larger creatures encircled them now. Annabelle tried to look for the…notch in the shell of the one she thought friendly, but they were mingling back and forth and she could not see.

5.

“DO YOU SUPPOSE the smaller ones to be c-children?” Unlike the adults, the children had shells of black and gold, displaying a greenish cast. Only the adults appeared to have the rainbow iridescence. Elizabeth stumbled over the concept, owing no doubt to earthly prejudices and even religious ones. Arnaud had never believed in God, but after visiting what could well be an afterlife of sorts and seeing his mother waiting for him, he was at least open to other possibilities. If a Godlike being existed, maybe He had created animals for man’s use, but if that were so, why intelligent talking ants? Highmore accused them of anthropomorphising, but were they so wrong in that? The animals of Earth showed concepts of family; he’d seen a dog pine to death when its owner died. The universe had revealed many mysteries to him; he had no doubt it had many more to disclose. Perhaps man only thought he understood the concept of God, just as they thought they understood creatures such as these. Perhaps the truth was something greater than anyone had envisioned.

Seeing Nathaniel in deep thought, Arnaud said, “I would hand you a penny, mon toujours.”

Nathaniel smiled. “I was just contemplating mankind’s ego and the idea they consider themselves wise.”

“I suggest we accept their hospitality such as it is,” Annabelle said, having been led to an open area.

“Well put, Miss Annabelle.” Folkard settled himself on the ground. The others followed suit. A general disturbance among the beetles suggested a degree of busyness.

“I don’t see the point of this,” Highmore complained.

“We may gain information.”

“With respect, Miss Annabelle, we cannot even understand these creatures. What makes you think they are capable of imparting any useful intelligence?”

“It’s Miss Somerset, Mister Highmore, and what makes you think they are not?”

Highmore blinked, pulling back a little, but then carried on as if oblivious to her scolding. “The sound they make for one thing. Nothing more than a dumb insect.”

Nathaniel broke in on the discussion. “Which is not to say that it isn’t language. Animals on Earth communicate. Just because we cannot understand them… Well, surely that makes us dumb, not them.”

“Oh, come now, Professor. Even if that is true, it has its limits. Animals can no more understand us than we can them.”

“Have you never owned a dog?” Annabelle asked.

“Hounds.”

“And do they obey your commands?”

“That’s entirely different. They understand by the sound of my voice whether I am angry or pleased. They do not understand the words.”

“But what is language if not sounds at its very basis?” Arnaud could not resist the challenge in Highmore’s tone. “Humans can equally communicate by gestures as they can verbally. Even if your argument proves true, you are most put-out and it is entirely possible these creatures can hear that in your voice.”

As if to pull the conversation back in line, Nathaniel interrupted. “I’m afraid we need to discuss a few things of which the Highmores may not be privilege to, Captain, but needs must win out.” Nathaniel went on to mention the coincidences in the similarities between Phobos and Luna.

“I am convinced it is no coincidence.” Folkard looked thoughtful. “However, things are as different here as they are similar. I hate to admit it, but something here makes me feel uneasy. I cannot…pinpoint it.” He gave the other quest members each a specific stare. They each in turn nodded to say they understood. Folkard was not sensing anything like the Heart.

“What in the blazes are you talking about?” Highmore glared at them all. “Do you think me such a fool as not to realise you are discussing something without revealing all?”

“Then do not be a fool to suggest you do not understand the need for political and military secrets.”

“Captain, I assure you…”

“No, sir!” Folkard interrupted. “You can assure me nothing. You are here as our guests and at my sufferance. We have taken time to aid you both, and you have reacted badly to the effects of this place. This remains our mission and you will do as I say.”

Highmore seemed at a loss for words. He flinched when Elizabeth touched him.

She withdrew her hand but said; “I am sure the captain has his reasons for his decision, and we could not respect him if he did any less.”

Arnaud was studying a piece of the carapaces Annabelle had collected on the way. “Highly like the complexities of a mineral.”

“There’s one thing I can add to that.” Digging into his supplies, Nathaniel drew out a notebook. “These are the sketches I’ve made of what I saw on the monolith.” He searched for the right page, turned it over so the others could see. “Look familiar?”

“The beetles!” Annabelle sounded delighted.

“Yes. At first I thought they were scarabs, but…” he glanced around, “clearly.”

“Did you make out anything else?”

“There’s something here. These symbols I believe are a type of alphabet. I’ve not been able to figure much out, but this,” he tapped the page. “I believe the start of this word is Chal. Possibly, Chaldrite.”

A mad chattering began in the nearby group. Nathaniel blinked at them, while Arnaud hoped he hadn’t spoken some scandalous word that would cause the beetles to turn on them.

“I wonder…” Arnaud said. “I was just thinking. Chalcopyrite is a type of rainbow rock. The shells of these creatures definitely have that effect. Chondrite is a stony meteorite. I am just wondering over the origins of their name, if it is indeed the name of their species. The origins of language…how do we know it began on Earth? An interesting concept if a little troubling. If such suppositions have any foundation it could throw much of our history into question.”

“As fascinating as that is, Fontaine, I do not see how it helps us find Henry.” At least Highmore had calmed down.

“It does not,” Folkard interrupted. “But despite your desire to be on your way, I suggest that we seize this opportunity to rest, get some sleep if possible.”

Before anyone could argue or agree, several Chaldrites approached. They laid pieces of the black shells on the ground.

Nathaniel picked one up to examine. The others took time inspecting the offerings too.

“It seems they mean to feed us,” Annabelle said.

“You mean eat?” Elizabeth stared at the bowl in her lap as if it contained…exactly what it contained: long spiny legs of white shell filled with meat.

“I should be the one first to try it, sah.”

Everyone ignored Whitlock’s offer, although Highmore looked as if he seriously considered it.

“It looks like something that would come out of the sea.”

“Better than frog’s legs, eh, Arnaud?”

For a moment, Arnaud was very tempted to put down his dinner and size up to Highmore. Nathaniel shook his head.

“Let’s hope it tastes better than it looks.” Annabelle shrugged, and scooping out a small piece with her fingers put it into her mouth.

“Annabelle, no!” Elizabeth recoiled. “What if these things are…cannibals?”

“I do not think so,” Arnaud said. “This shell is quite different.”

“Even if that is true, we were just discussing the intelligence of beasts.”

“Will that stop you partaking of roast beef when you get home, mademoiselle?”

Elizabeth frowned. “When I first met you I thought that French accent of yours cute. Now it’s starting to annoy me.”

Arnaud just stared at her. Then he started to laugh. Annabelle joined in around a mouth of…what, Arnaud did not know. White mush? She saw him looking at her. “Tastes like chicken,” she said, and the next moment, they were all laughing.