Free Zenn Scarlett by Christian Schoon Page A

stomach and into the intestinal tract. Then, you stop the pod and activate the manipulator arms to extend. If the ulcer is small, you could apply some medicine and close it up with protein stitching. If it’s big, you lay on a derma-plast patch.”
    “And then how does one… exit?”
    “You’ve got two options. You could lightly irritate the stomach lining and have the animal regurgitate you.”
    “You are vomited out?”
    “Right. Or, you keep going forward through the small and large intestines and into the sloo’s cloaca.”
    “What then?”
    “You just let nature take its course and… plop!”
    “So, the animal…”
    “Yeah, you get pooped out.”
    “I repeat. I would not volunteer for such a journey. I will acknowledge your enthusiasm, although I fail to understand your eagerness.”
    “I’m eager because I’ve been looking forward to it forever. Plus, I know I can do it. I’ve screened every v-film on in-soma insertions that we have in the scriptorium library. And I’ve re-run them till I see the control panel in my sleep. A high score will help make up for the whalehound.”
    Hamish was quiet for a few seconds.
    “Novice Zenn, I haven’t been in-cloister long, but to forget a fence-switch, to allow an animal to escape. That doesn’t seem like your usual standard of behavior, if I may say so.”
    Until the last few weeks, Zenn would have agreed.
    “Thanks,” she said. “But I guess we all make mistakes.” Whatever happened, she wasn’t eager to dwell on it. “So, how are you settling in so far?”
    “Oh, settling well. Although there is much to do. I’m learning that a cloister sexton has a multitude of demanding chores and tasks. Cleaning of pen and corral spaces, repairing items, feeding of the animals, more cleaning, running here and there.”
    “It’s not what you expected?”
    “Not entirely. Especially the chanting.”
    “Chanting?”
“There is no chanting. Or wearing of brown cloth robes with hoods. I was under the impression there was considerable group vocal chanting at a cloister such as this. And robes. But there is not. This was disappointing.”
    “Hamish,” Zenn said. “Did you look at the message shard we sent you, before you came to Mars? The information packet about the cloister?”
    “I did not.” He admitted this with no apparent embarrassment.
    “Well, the shard would have told you all about life here, the responsibilities of a sexton, the lack of chanting, things like that.”
    “I understand. You are saying my knowledge of the cloister was deficient and if I had viewed the shard I might have decided cloister living was not to my liking.”
    “Yes, Hamish, that’s what I’m saying.”
    “But the Queen Spawn-Mother selected me from among all my sibling hatch-mates to come to Mars as sexton. I would therefore be sent despite any prior knowledge I might or might not have, if you see my situation.”
    “Oh. I knew things on your world were… highly structured. But I didn’t know that’s how things worked.”
    “That is its working. But still, I cannot help but feel it’s unfortunate there are not more students in attendance here. To help with the many tasks.”
    “I’ve noticed Liam helping you out,” Zenn said.
    “Yes, the person Liam Tucker. He is quite willing to assist me. He is very friendly, and curious, for a local human. Very curious, to know about the animals.”
    “That’s great, though, isn’t it? A towner taking an interest. Maybe there’s hope for those people after all.”
    “Hope? Are they otherwise hopeless?”
    “Well, like those two boys and the whalehound. People can be afraid of things they don’t know anything about. Maybe Liam will tell others what it’s like here. That the animals aren’t just huge, dangerous alien things. He might tell them how… interesting they are. And that we’re just trying to help them.”
    “He might well do this. And that might have instructive value,” Hamish said, then he looked down