Quietly, Nissim said, “Oh yes. I remember.”
“We were worried about an awful fight,” Father said. “Old slayers appreciate just how smart the coronas are, and it occurred to us that this could be a trap. Maybe our quarry were tired of being hunted. Maybe they were teasing us with one of their own, and their entire population was hiding below, ready to rise up through the demon floor and slay their foes.
“But it wasn’t a trap. The old-timers were wrong and glad. Of course the young slayers were hoping for a big battle from the giant—something grand and noble, worthy of epic boasts—but they were wrong too. The old lady didn’t so much as take a nip at any of us. In fact, as soon as she saw us descending, those weak yellow flashes stopped begging. No more cries for help. She just let her bladders lift her away from her world, and sometimes her mouth spat out jets to keep her cruising straight and slow. The harpoons punched deep, and she did nothing. Those old dark scales were fragile, like rotted wood. Coronas are full of organs. Many of the organs and glands are mysteries, but we know the vital few. The harpoons reached the weakest tissues, and a dozen fletches pumped electricity down into the central brain, and we had our monster. The kill took three recitations, but I think one slayer and one crew could have done the same in a single recitation. We got in each other’s way, and I never even got off a shot, and I can’t remember an easier or stranger kill. We were putting an end to something older than we could ever measure, and I’m wondering to myself if that’s what she was chasing all along—her merciful quick death.”
Father stopped talking, lifting one hand, flat beneath his eyes to cut the reflected glare. Out in the distance was a long silver aircraft. Diamond watched the ship because his father watched it, and in his mind, he watched a giant corona surrounded by dozens of little fletches.
Father continued. “I didn’t make any shot, but I helped secure the carcass. In the end, that was epic in this story. We sank barbed hooks into her round body, hitting the ribs but avoiding her bladders, and then balloons were deployed to supply lift. That dead lady behind us took seven balloons to carry. But the giant, the wonder, was more than twice as wide and ten times heavier. Seventy balloons were barely enough. We were so far from the reef that we couldn’t even see our destination, and we spent the rest of that day and all night and the full long day that followed taking her where she had to be.
“Harvesting any corona requires tools and skills, but most importantly, you need a solid surface capable of holding great weight. There is no suitable abattoir in the forest, and besides, we have treaties with the papio. Sharing is mandated, by treaty and by custom. So we towed the old girl in the best direction. Unfortunately some young slayer failed to secure several balloons, and when they popped free in the night, our prize started drifting toward the floor. Then several more balloons ripped free of the old meat, and it was big rush just to deploy and secure enough lift to pull her back up to the minimal altitude. Even then we barely dragged her over the edge of the reef. The valley where she was to be butchered isn’t far from here. A determined papio could walk there before night. And it was almost night when we finally had the giant body secured, waiting to be honored, waiting to be chopped into pieces.”
Father pointed sideways but kept looking forwards. “We were in this flat little bowl, in the gloom. I led the honor ceremony, and despite a lot of complaining, I didn’t hurry. Something greater than me was dead, and when that happens, you have to beg for forgiveness, if only so your little soul can sleep when it has the chance. But there wouldn’t be sleep soon. The best dozen crews were ready to set to work, including these boys with me today. And despite darkness and despite the remote location, we had an audience. The papio arrived in force—all of the locals and delegates from different cities, all gathered to watch the spectacle, waiting for the five piles to be finished and their chance to choose.
“There were human dignitaries too. Our local Archon came to wish us well. A fair and practical leader, I’ve always thought. But that day, she proved to me she had a heart. Her name is Prima, and she took the time to speak to my crew and to me. She was the only Archon to ask about the creature’s age. I made inadequate guesses, and not only did the lady say she was sad for the corona, but she looked sad. And that was before any of us realized how little value there was inside that enormous corpse.
“Those scales were dark as soot, but soot is sturdier. I had never seen so many necks and heads on one body, but half of the heads were damaged and several more missing. The skeleton was even weaker than the scales. Bones were fractured and healed, others fractured and unhealed. Important glands were half-dead. There were cysts and odd cancers and scars lain over scars. Even the muscle and blood were poor quality. A barrel of meat usually yields ten different metals, including enough iron to build one strong tool. But that woman was anemic—anemic to the point where a strong torch could shine through a thick steak—and with all of that illness inside one beast, it makes the mind wonder what kind of misery she was suffering at the end.
“Seven harpoons were found inside that meat. Three wore legible marks, but no one found any record of the slayers who had shot them. The other four harpoons had different designs than anything used today or even in the oldest history books. Some said that the corona was as old at the world, which is another reason to be impressed and feel sick to your stomach. At the beginning of time, that creature thrived, touched by the Creators and now killed by a troop of fancy monkeys.
“Without question, the District of Districts sent a full delegation, led by the Archon of Archons. I had never seen the man before. Never seeing him again would make me happy. I was standing in the gore, up to my knees in greasy gray livers, and that’s when the Archon and his various assistants walked up to congratulate me. His name’s List, and he didn’t wait for me to talk. With that scratchy voice, he told me that the corona was impressive and he was glad that he had seen it, but in the end it wasn’t much of a prize, and where would the investment be recovered? He struck me then as the kind of man who always sounds half-smart, particularly when the topic is unimportant. When he spoke, what mattered was to make me appreciate that huge quantities of manpower and fuel and capital and hope had been invested in this adventure, and nothing of real substance would come of it, and then he turned to one of his aides, and with a voice meant to remind me who was in charge of the world, he said, ‘We can’t afford bonuses. Tell the other Archons that nothing will be paid from the common pool.’
“And with that bomb thrown, he left us, retreating to his personal airship and comfortable bed.
“My crew spent the next dozen recitations cursing. And then our Archon returned. Prima told us not to worry. She didn’t exactly insult List. She’s too charming and too shrewd for that. But she promised to pay what she could from the smaller local fund, and she reminded us how proud she was of us, yes, and of every other slayer crew from the Corona District.
“By then the papio numbered in the hundreds. This is the end of the world to them, a place beyond every better place, but delegates and citizens, soldiers and even children had gathered. They were curious and remarkably talkative. Plus there were other human dignitaries, and slayers crews waiting to spell us when we got tired, and there were rich individuals who had hired fletches to come here for no reason other than to see something that would never be seen again.
“A different crew finally sliced open the corona’s stomach.
“It was the darkest part of the night, and my boys were exhausted. I went looking for relief, for fresh willing backs and hands, and I happened to see the stomach’s juices spilling across the coral. Those juices are highly, highly acidic. The coral was fizzing and popping as the mess spread and sank underground. Nobody was paying attention to the interior, at least not then. Even after being dead for so long, there was a lot of residual heat. I don’t know why I swung my torch at the hole. But I had a good angle to see far inside, and I had to be the first person to spot something moving. The object was large, larger than me by a long ways. I held up my torch and caught a round shape wiggling at its edges. Then I climbed inside that hot gutted stomach, avoiding the dangerous last puddles, and I put a gloved hand on the big odd moving object, and what looked like a hand started to emerge, apparently trying to touch me.