Ten Sigmas & Other Unlikelihoods (31 page)

“This is useless,” Haron said.

Edeo was bent over the back of the snail, rasping. The snail was sniffing at Haron’s pocket for the ball he had hidden there. He giggled as the tendril plunged in and pulled it out. The snail was far better than a dog.

“Is not.”

“Snail won’t eat anything but curdleberries today. We’ll have to go get some more.”

Edeo looked up. “Not even the lillweed roots. He loved those before.”

“Naw. Balls and curdleberries is all he’s eating.” Haron looked around. “And a kilo of copper wiring.”

“Sheesh.”

Haron’s head tilted. “What was that?”

They pushed the snail back into its cave.

“It’s way early for Fruge.” After a week they had his comings and goings down: every other day to feed the snail and check for new jewels. And sometimes he brought a second load of metal, so they had to be careful.

Just as Haron was going for the rope, it jerked up into the air.

Someone laughed above them.

“Gremon,” Edeo whispered fiercely.

“What you little boys doing in the basement all alone? Comparing sizes?” His head appeared over the edge.

“None of your business,” Edeo said.

“Yeah? You think?” He slid down the rope, one hand out raised. “Let’s see what you’re doing down here.”

Edeo moved to stand in front of the gate, casually with one hand on the wall. Gremon looked around the basement, smiled once at Edeo. “What’s behind the door?”

He pushed Edeo out of the way, pulled the door open.

“Marbles? Dirty pictures? Rock co —” His voice shriveled inside him, as he backed away. He pushed Edeo in front of him. “What!” He tripped over his own feet as the snail slid forward waving its antennae. A weird trilling sound came from the snail, one that Haron and Edeo had never heard before.

Gremon ran up the steps, his face white, his pants wet. He slammed against the locked door, turned the lock with fumbling hands, and disappeared into the street.

The snail’s trilling turned to a heavy chuff.

“I think he’s laughing,” Haron said, rubbing under the snail’s mouth.

Edeo watched the door swing shut. “Huh,” he said.

“You know what you got there?” Gremon was hanging over the top bunkbed, his head dark against the gray ceiling.

“No.”

“Hell! It’s a snail, Edeo. A snail! You know what that means?”

“No. What?”

“Snails grow gems on their backs if you feed it the right crap. You hear me? Gems.”

“I know.”

“You feed it iron, it grows emerald. You feed it copper, it grows diamonds. You feed it–”

“They’re not really diamonds and emeralds,” he replied. What the snails grew weren’t found naturally.

“We could be rich.”

“We?”

“Yeah, we, little boy.”

Edeo stared up at his brother. “You breathe a word, little boy,” he said softly, “and Nelli Ione learns you pissed your pants.”

Gremon was silent. This was all Edeo had over him. He hoped it would work.

A dark shape dropped from the top bunk. Pain shot up Edeo’s arm, and he stifled a gasp.

“This isn’t yours to keep, stupid. It’s to use.”

Then Gremon climbed back up into his bunk.

*

The next day, the snail thrashed around in its cave when they came to see it.

“Is it sick?” Haron asked.

“I dunno,” Edeo said. He was still concerned about what Gremon would do. Perhaps he’d try to take the snail for himself.

The snail slammed its carapace against the stone walls of the alcove, again and again.

“What’s wrong with it?” They dared not go near the thing. It weighed twice as much as they did together, and its shell was hard. They’d be smashed.

Finally it stopped and something tinkled inside its grotto.

“What was that?” Edeo asked.

The snail slid forward and Edeo leaned into the darkness. Something sparkled on the floor. He reached for it, but jerked his hand back.

He stuck his bleeding finger in his mouth.

Haron shined the flashlight. “It’s a gem.”

This was the first gem they’d seen the snail grow since they’d started feeding it a week earlier.

“It’s sharp.”

Edeo reached for it again, carefully. It was metallic, not a gem stone at all. It was heavy, like lead. One edge was rounded and had indentations in it. The other edge was sharp. It looked like a clamming knife the divers at the ocean used to open crustaceans.

The snail shook itself and its chain jingled.

Edeo and Haron shared a look. Edeo then bent down and started sawing at the chain with the stone. In the light of Haron’s flashlight, they saw the stone had chipped the metal. The stone was cutting the chain.

“It grew a saw!” Haron said.

Edeo worked until his arm was too sore to continue, then Haron took a turn. By noon they were halfway through the link, and so engrossed in the process they failed to hear Fruge’s arrival until he flung open the door.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Edeo and Haron backed away from the snail. Haron eyed the rope, then the gun in Fruge’s hand. No way he’d make it.

Fruge took the steps, his eyes riveted on the two kids.

“This explains what happened to my supply of gems. You two have been feeding my snail the wrong stuff.” He kicked at the pile of curdleberry leaves. “Do you know what you’ve cost me?”

“You can’t do this to a snail,” Edeo said, his voice cracking halfway through.

“Just shut up,” Fruge said. “I can do whatever I want with
my
snail. And that includes feeding you to it.”

The snail charged at Fruge, coming up just short on the end of the chain.

“Look what you did!” Fruge yelled. “You made it crazy!”

The snail lurched again, pulling the chain tight.

“If I have to get a new snail because of you,” Fruge said, “I’m going to chain you both to the wall and feed you iron scrap.”

The snail backed up into its cave.

“That’s right. Back in your cave.”

But the snail wasn’t submitting, it was getting some distance.

It charged.

For a moment, Edeo was certain the chain would hold, but the weakened link gave way with a snap and the snail was on top of Fruge.

“He’s going to eat him,” Haron said, with some amount of relish.

Fruge screamed and the gun flew from his hand as he tried to fight off the snail. The snail rolled right over him, covering his head, then backed up so it could roll over him again with its giant foot.

“He’s not going to eat him,” Edeo said. “That’s not his mouth down there; it’s his foot.”

“He’s sliming him,” Haron said, which was better.

The snail rolled off Fruge, found his gun and stowed it in his gullet with a slurp.

Fruge stood, his body dripping snail slime in huge dollops. He coughed.

“I’m going to kill you with my bare hands.”

The snail lunged at him then, and Fruge backed up. Fruge tried to move around him, but the snail was far faster than he. Fruge backed into the cave.

Edeo slammed the door shut and Haron threw the bolt.

“That’ll never hold him.”

But the snail had apparently realized that and was pushing barrels in front of it, as well as crates and other bits of junk that lined the walls of the basement.

Surveying Fruge’s cage, Edeo said, “Let’s get out of here.”

Haron looked at the snail. “What about him?”

Edeo looked up at the rope, wondering if they could haul the snail out, but he need not have worried. The snail slithered up the steps, its flexible foot molding itself to the stairs. It was up to the landing in seconds, pushing open the door.

It hesitated there, its antennae waving around.

“It’s probably never been outside,” Haron said.

“It’s scared.”

Edeo and Haron walked around it and stood out in the middle of the street, waving it on.

Finally the snail scooted out of the building and into the open.

Edeo grinned. “We’ll take it to my house. It can live in my room. Then Gremon can’t bully me anymore. It can make me gems whenever I want. We’ll be rich . . . .”

Haron looked at Edeo, his eyebrows raised.

Edeo caught his friend’s look.

“I mean —”

“We’d be no better than that wagger,” Haron said with a nod toward the building. Edeo paused, sipping at his dream one last time.

“No,” Edeo said. “I guess not. Then where?”

“He likes curdleberries.” He pointed to the spaceport, where the tarmacs were surrounded with native flora. “Of course, we could take the long way.”

By the time they reached their street, they had quite a parade: dozens of children, the mailman, shop clerks, a team of street cleaners, even Gremon followed.

The snail slid happily along, unperturbed by it all, as if it was expecting a parade.

A magistrate caught up to them on Jury Street.

“What is this? Where did this snail come from?”

Edeo was brave enough to answer.

“Fruge had him chained in a vacant building by the spaceport.” He showed the magistrate the soldered end of the chain. “We’re taking him to the spaceport so he can eat.”

“Fruge,” the magistrate said with undisguised venom. He sent a muni to the vacant building, then accompanied the parade to the spaceport where he had one of the bumbling maintenance men open the gate so that the snail could crawl into the fields of lillweed and curdleberry bushes. In the distance, on the far side of the spaceport, a rocket roared into the sky. The snail cocked one antenna at it as it munched contentedly on a tuff of vegetation.

It chuffed once at Edeo and Haron, then ambled off into the prairie.