G is for Gunner

Warning: Do not continue if you are afraid of rats, or if reading about rat-type creatures is going to upset you.

For the purpose of this story, please imagine a giant rat with bat-like wings. By the way, giant rats exist, some of them apparently growing to the size of the cat you bought to get rid of them.They are a completely different species than your ordinary rat, but they are an invasive species so… sleep tight.

Silniev woke up bright and early, before the sun started even coming through between the boards of wood above. He leaned over the edge of his bunk, hanging nearly upside-down, his long dark hair standing on end with the gravity. His mother and father were squeezed together in the bunk below, clinging together so Mom wouldn’t fall off the edge. Mom and Dad shared a bed because there weren’t enough bunks to go around, although Silniev had actually found a few beds that were free when he was exploring the ship.

“Dad!” he excalaimed. “Dad! Guess what! Guess how old I am now.”

“Dunno. You tell me.”

“Seven,” Silniev said proudly.

“Aye, that’s real great, son,” Dad said, raising himself up on an elbow. “And you’re gonna be eight next year?”

“Aye sir!”

“Not if ya don’t go to sleep, ya won’t,” Dad snapped, rolling over and flopping into the bed with a whumph!

***

Silniev was still really excited by the time they were eating breakfast, even though Mom and Dad didn’t look excited and even though they were only having sea biscuits and a bit of salt pork to eat, seeing as they hadn’t been to port in quite some time.

“Airr, gettin’ at the food rats are,” Mom complained.

“It’s a shame that is, but with poor Dovey dead,” a fo’c’sle hand said.

“We be goin’ t’ port today, aye?”

He nodded. “Three of the clock, about, Dozhak willing.”

“There’s ratters t’ be found in Arda, there is,” Mom said knowingly.

After that, the crew set to work readying the airship for the sea, knowing full well Arda didn’t have anyplace for a ship to land straight from the sky. Silniev ran about, trying to offer whatever sort of help he could, but he was still rather too small to do anything of importance. Most of the men were happy to see him, even if he couldn’t do much. They rubbed his hair between the horns that were growing in and called him Nub.

When the island was in sight, the Hell-born Sword began its descent, crashing thunderously into the ocean below. It sent up a spray of ocean water and Silniev, who had been leaning over the side of the ship for a better view, got a face-full of the salty brine.

“Watch it, Nub!” one of the crew members exclaimed, grabbing him and pulling him from the side. “Don’t want ya goin’ fer a swim, do we?”

“Was watchin’ it,” Silniev complained, wiping his face free of the water. “That were the problem, it were.”

Dad came to find Silniev just before the ship came in to dock and the gangplank was let down, so that he could go to land with Mom and Dad. Silniev liked going on land, at least for a while. It was funny to walk without a ship moving below you. He only went down on land if someone was willing to watch after him, though. Dad always said that if he got lost they were going to leave him behind, and staying on land for more than maybe a few days seemed horrible.

The marketplace was full of interesting things, as marketplaces generally were. Silniev followed close behind Mom and Dad so they wouldn’t leave him behind, because they weren’t paying much attention to him. They were arguing. Dad said he wanted to go get some things on his own, but Mom wouldn’t let him because she didn’t want him sleeping with whores.

“Dad slept enough last night,” Silniev piped up.

“No thanks t’ you, ya little shit,” Dad said, but he was laughing so he wasn’t mad at Silniev this time.

Mom led them to a shop with loads of cages lined around the stall. There were all sorts of animals in the cages, like colorful birds, white ferrets, and monkeys. Silniev tried to see if any of the parrots could talk while Mom talked money with the one-handed man. He could have sworn he’d gotten the red one to say a cuss word, and was trying to get the dumb thing to repeat it when Mom yanked him away.

“Come along and be done with yer babble,” Mom said. Dad was carrying a large cage and looking none to happy about it. There was a huge, scruffy ratter in there with sharp teeth and a mean glint in his eye.

“Izzat fer me?” Silniev asked.

“Hm?”

“Me birthday, it is,” Silniev reminded them.

“Hurr…” Dad said, then a big grin broke out on his face. “O’ course it’s fer you, it is! Thought ya migh’ like a pet, we did, so’s we got ya one.”

He put the large cage in Silniev’s arms. It was big and bulky and heavy, and awkward to carry with his arms wrapped around it, but Silniev didn’t care. He looked into the ratter’s eyes with pure adoration. It hissed at him.

“Gunner’s his name, and a right fine ratter he’ll be.”

***

Silniev woke up bright and early, before the sun started even coming through between the boards of wood above. Gunner had come into his bed sometime the night before, and the mangy thing was curled up against his chest. Silniev could’ve sworn Gunner was grinning, but of course that wasn’t really something a ratter could do.

“I’m thirteen today, I am,” he whispered to his friend, scratching under the ear Gunner had gotten shredded in a fight.

Gunner roused himself from his dreamings to sniff at Silniev’s neck, tickling the boy with his whiskers. Then they both went to sleep, content in each other’s company.