Enemy of Oceans (12 page)

“I'M FREEZING,” SNORK SAID TO TAKIZA AS HE
chopped stalk after stalk of tough brown-greenie. Here in the North Atlantis where the water was colder and the currents faster, the greenie was harder to chop through.

“Ah, a complaint. I thought perhaps you were the first apprentice who would not do that,” Takiza said from his position above Snork. “False hope, indeed.”

Snork watched as the betta moved his gauzy fins this way and that, using his shar-kata skill. The chopped greenie rose upward and joined the other stalks that had been cut in an overhead mass that didn't move, even though there was a current that should have pushed it. With all that was going on in the Big Blue, Snork had no idea why he was here cutting down greenie, and Takiza wouldn't tell him anything. All they seemed to be doing was making a great big mess.

“Does that mean I'm your apprentice?” Snork asked.

“Oh no,” said Takiza, shaking his head and whipping his tail through the water for added emphasis. “It is too soon for me to take on another Nulo. Please understand, it is not you. It is me. Gray's infinite number of questions combined with a knack for not listening to instruction tired me so greatly that I cannot at this time be anyone's Shiro.” Takiza looked at Snork, who was panting from the effort of chopping over two hundred stalks of greenie. “Tell me, Snork, have I become forgetful in my old age?” he asked.

“I—I don't know,” Snork answered. “Why do you think that?”

“Because you have stopped cutting stalks of greenie,” Takiza said. “And I do not remember saying the words that would tell you to do such a thing. Have I?”

“No, Takiza,” Snork answered. He began chopping stalks of greenie once more. The betta fluttered his fins and the brown-greenie gathered in the water above them. “My bill hurts a little.”

“Of course your bill hurts!” said a giant of a marlin as he neatly blocked Snork from striking a thick stalk of greenie with his own longer and thicker bill. “You swing it in an exceptionally
estúpido
manner! As if you had only woken just this morning with it attached to your face!”

The magnificent marlin was the biggest Snork had ever seen. He was cobalt blue on his upper half and silvery white on the bottom, so shiny that he glittered in the sunlight. His upper jaw was elongated and formed a majestic—and sharp—bill that made up at least four feet of his eighteen-foot length. He also had two flashy hooks in one side of his mouth. Though it couldn't be possible, the hooks seemed to be in the perfect spot to be a decoration! Would a swordfish do that on purpose? It was too much to believe.

Takiza gestured with a fin. “May I introduce Diego Benedicto Pacifico Salamanca. It is he who will be teaching you how to be a bladefish.”

“I can see that Salamanca is sorely needed here,” the marlin said. He tapped Snork on the head with his bill before butting him to the side with his tail. He spoke rapidly and with an accent. “A bladefish must strike when his fins are level, the tail slightly angled in the opposite direction, countering the force of your blow, and your eyes—your eyes!—they must always be fixed on the point of contact—nowhere else! Now,
observar
!”

The marlin chopped ten stalks of greenie. He went left and right, left and right, and sliced through each of them with no effort whatsoever. The greenie even landed in a neat pile, stacked onto itself.

It was amazing.

The swordfish turned to Takiza. “Why would you teach him this, this, this—horrible form? Did you want to bloody his nose? Or were you teaching the
estúpido
manner first so he would know what not to do?”

Takiza rolled his eyes at Salamanca and said, “I did it this way because teaching him to fly was even less productive.”

“You can fly now?” the billfish asked. “Salamanca would see this.”

Takiza sighed. “Stop your annoying games. You are intelligent enough to know that since I do not have a bill, I cannot instruct him in the correct way for a bladefish apprentice to strike a blow.”

Salamanca nodded. “That is sadly true. Your nose is pitiful in its lack of length. Certainly not the nose of a bladefish, although you do have many other good qualities.” He tapped Snork's head once more. “What's your name, boy?”

“Snork.”

“Snork? Snork, you say.” Salamanca proceeded to emphasize his name in different ways. “Snork. Snork. Snooork. Hmm.” The marlin looked him over. “Are you fond of this name?”

“Well,” Snork said. “It is my name.”

“It is not the name of a great bladefish,” the marlin said. “And if Salamanca trains you, you will be a great bladefish. When Salamanca does incredible and amazing things, the fins and dwellers who are fortunate enough to have witnessed them say things like, ‘The incredible and amazing Salamanca was just here,' or ‘Your life is now meaningless as you have missed the fantastic feats the incredible and amazing Salamanca has just performed.' I am unsure if a fin named Snork can do incredible and amazing things.”

“Think of it as a challenge,” Takiza said. “Or are you afraid of a challenge?”

“Salamanca fears no fin, dweller, landshark”—at this point the marlin showed off the hooks in his mouth to Takiza which caused the betta to roll his eyes—“or challenge.” Salamanca looked Snork over, using his bill to poke, prod, and tap his flanks, dorsal, tail, and stomach. “Did you know the landsharks prize catching a blue marlin such as myself above all other fins? They try to do this with a stick and thin rope they call a rod and reel. Though I have given them a chance to ensnare me, none are able. A marlin over one thousand of their pounds is named a grander. By their measure, I'm a three grander, certainly the most grand of them all.”

“Are you through being ridiculous?” asked Takiza.

“My process cannot be rushed,” Salamanca said. “If I make a commitment, I'm bound by honor to see it through.” He tapped Snork on the head again. “Where do you hail from? Perhaps your Line comes from the waters of España, where most great bladefish are born?

“No, not there,” he answered. “I'm from the North Atlantis.”

“Cold there,” said the marlin. “It doesn't suit me. Takiza tells me your father was a bladefish, but you did not know this.”

Snork agreed. “He never said a word.”

“Ah, interesting,” Salamanca said, thinking to himself. “A humble practitioner of the art of bill-kata. Tell me, what was his name?”

“Uprush.”

“He was called Uprush and then named you Snork?” Salamanca waved his bill from side to side. “I do not think I like your father.”

“It was my mother's favorite name and you take that back!” Snork said, his temper flaring. His father was swimming the Sparkle Blue. No one should be speaking that way about him.

“I will not,” Salamanca said. “And further, I think he did a bad job raising you.” The marlin slapped Snork on both sides of his face so that it stung. “What do you think of that, boy?”

Snork had been taught by his mother and father to never fight when someone called him names. When you were a sawfish, it wasn't like being a regular shark; bumping or ramming could hurt or even kill someone. But after being slapped, and having his father's memory insulted, Snork forgot everything and rushed at Salamanca's flank trying to skewer him. The huge marlin swerved to the side and faced off with him, bill to bill.

“En garde, Snork!” The marlin hacked at his head in a downward strike. Snork had allowed the taps before, but now blocked as his father had taught him. Salamanca then struck left, then right, left twice more, before coming from the right again. It was almost too fast, but Snork managed to deflect each blow.

“Say you're sorry or you'll be sorry!” Snork yelled.

“Never!” Salamanca exclaimed. “What will you do now?”

Snork rushed at Salamanca. It was crazy and dumb. The marlin was easily three times his size but Snork was so mad he didn't care. He faked at Salamanca's head but spun in the water to poke at his gills, and then attempted a strike to the marlin's flank. Through it all, Salamanca never got mad. He deflected Snork's bill each time, moving and weaving in the water, always just out of reach. “He is muy bueno,” the marlin said over his shoulder to Takiza.

Snork stopped. “You're doing this on purpose. It's a test,” he sniffled. Realizing this didn't make him feel any better, though.

Salamanca dipped his bill in the water. “But of course. And I apologize for insulting your undoubtedly noble father—he was a bladefish and we are all noble, every one—but I needed to see the extent of your training, young Snork. You would never have tried your hardest if you didn't lose your temper.”

“I told you the boy has promise,” Takiza said.

“
Si, si.
Salamanca will do this. Soon fins and dwellers will be saying, ‘Look at the great and amazing things that Salamanca's apprentice the mighty Snork can do!'”

“I am overjoyed,” Takiza told him. “Can we begin his training?”

“
Si,
I know you are eager for this. Exactly how would you like to proceed?”

Takiza bowed with a flourish. “As you have said, my nose is sadly short, but I think you should show your new apprentice how to chop down this entire field of greenie.”

“And there is no way for you to help in this?” Salamanca asked the betta. Snork thought the question was curious but remained quiet.

Takiza motioned upward with a fin. All the greenie that Snork had chopped down earlier hovered against the current, eerily motionless. “I cannot,” he said. “I am an old fish who can only do one thing at a time.”

Snork looked out over the field and his heart sank. It was immense! He had been cutting down greenie for hours and Salamanca's test had made him even more tired. There was no way they could chop the entire thing down. It went on for miles!

The marlin saw the look in Snork's eyes and gave him a light tap to the flank. “Two bladefish working together can do anything!” he exclaimed. “Remember that, o' mighty Snork. Now come, we begin. Watch until you understand how to cut properly, then join me.”

“I already know how to chop greenie,” Snork said.

Salamanca shook his head up and down, and then side to side. “You do, but you don't.”

Snork was going to swim forward as soon as the marlin began cutting but ended up watching for a full ten minutes as Takiza floated above them both. The reason Snork observed for so long was that he kept noticing the tiny adjustments that Salamanca was making. It seemed so easy: chop a stalk and move forward to cut the next. But the way the marlin did this simple thing was so elegant and precise that Snork could only hover in awe.

Salamanca brought his head to the side just so, his tail counter-angled in the other direction. By the time the marlin's bill struck the greenie, his tail had moved so it was in a straight line with his bill. As Salamanca followed through the stroke, his tail went the other way the exact same distance, completing half a tail stroke. This forward motion from the half tail stroke brought Salamanca forward to the next stalk. The follow through from the previous strike had his bill in position for another, but now from the opposite direction. In this way the marlin managed to cut down a stalk of greenie every single time he moved his head left or right, and all the while he was constantly moving forward because of his tail's counterstrokes. Not a fin flick was wasted.

It was so graceful that Snork's mouth hung open as he watched. Finally he said, “I don't know if I can do it.”

“So you see!
Excelente!
” Salamanca said, not stopping his cutting. “Now that you see how to cut properly, the only way to learn the correct form is by doing it. Today is the first day of your journey to becoming a bladefish as your father before you. But you must join me.”

So Snork swam over next to the big blue marlin and tried as best he could to imitate all the little things he was doing. It was hard, and more than a little frustrating. But every once in a while Snork got both his head and tail in perfect position and it was marvelous. When this happened, he didn't even feel his bill slice through the greenie. Then Snork did it three times in a row and that earned a nod from Salamanca, which pleased him to no end.

It was still difficult after that, but also gratifying. And through it all, Snork thought he could feel his father smiling at him from the Sparkle Blue.