silly games we used to play

[patration]

With three and a half days left in the month, I'm curious to see if the island still plans on giving me a present. Either way, I don't feel overly invested. It could be that I haven't been on the island enough to be graced with a present. It could be that the island can't think of anything to give me. Perhaps most importantly, I wonder if the various shops in London could have been considered a gift given to me, relatively comfortable clothing made from familiar fabrics, teas that weren't the most well-cared for, but that still tasted of home. I'm not a man who's difficult to please; there's a gift in simply living on the island at all and getting to see far beyond my reach in the Three Kingdoms.

However, I find myself pleasantly surprised this afternoon as I stumble across a new plant— a mulberry bush— in my yard, and a few wooden boxes resting by its side. Letting the birds fly off where they may, Meng Meng wanders by and noses the leaves curiously as I seat myself by the boxes, carefully opening each one.

Silkworms.

The movement is enough to scare the colt away to where she grazes some distance away, but my immediate goal has become somehow getting them situated on the leaves of mulberry, hoping that I have what it takes to help them survive. Maybe even thrive.

Comments

[notaparker]

It's the sudden movement of the horse that catches my attention, but it's the box that holds it. Horses there are plenty of, and it's not as if they're alien. If it was a giant chicken... I'd still be familiar with it to a weird degree.

But one of the other Applied Engineering students rifling in a box, that perks my interest. Gets me a little more inclined to prying than usual.

(Get it, prying? Because wooden boxes.)

"What's in the box," I say, in my best Brad Pitt, but also at a volume that's just directed to myself, because I doubt he'd catch the reference. "Looks like someone got a special delivery?"

[patration]

I hear the mumble off to the side, not quite catching her words before I glance up to find a familiar face, my smile widening at the sight. Classes usually aren't times for me to socialize; I feel that I'm often behind others in terms of both skill and knowledge. But I know Jessica well enough from the way she engages with so many of the other students, and from her sharp level of curiosity.

So, obligingly, I hold out one of the boxes, where worms inside are nestled in and among the leaves.

"Yes. Island delivery. I hope you are not afraid of insect," I say, gesturing inside the container.

[notaparker]

A laugh bursts out of me, sourced in the very obvious fact that I'm pretty okay with insects. Obviously, technically speaking, my real affinity is for arachnids, but honestly I'm just as down with bugs.

"If its cockroaches, it'll make me homesick, but I think I'll be all right," I say, with a grin, going up on my tip-toes. Which isn't exactly necessary, but it adds to the effect of bouncing interest, which accurately reflects how I feel.

Especially when I see inside.

"Hallo nurse," I say. "Bombyx mori! Honest-to-god silkworms! Oh, that's neat."

[patration]

She laughs, and for a moment I find myself startled. I have no way of knowing what her sensibilities are, of course, but there aren't too many people on the whole who would willingly seek out work that runs so closely to the care of insects and worms. If anything, I'm certain that the creatures would make any number of people from court frown in disgust. All the better that she doesn't, however.

"I do not know what this cockroach is," I tell her, just to be clear, but I find my smile again at the familiar word that I sought out when trying to research the island's native plant and animal life. Silkworms. "But I know that these are silkworms, yes. You have seen them before? People in my hometown help the worm to grow and make silk for clothes and other things."

[notaparker]

"In pictures, mostly, the odd habitat," I say, still leaning over the edge of the box and studying them, enraptured. I know they might freak some people out, but I've never quite gotten it. They're industrious, mechanically fun. They're wiggling around! That's cute! How is that not cute?

"Who's a cute little silkworm! You are! Who's a useful little silkworm? You are! I mean, talk about your other things. Bandages, parachutes... did you know the Mongol Horde used to wear silk under their leathers because the silk would wrap around an arrow, meaning they could get it out without the barb hooking in flesh?"

[patration]

"You speak very fast," I say when her words stop in a question, and I find myself blinking once or twice, as though that might help the memories return. (It doesn't.) Admittedly, after almost a year on the island, I feel much more comfortable with the English language, and often I am able to follow the speed of a standard conversation. But the vocabulary is difficult to build when it comes to topics less often discussed.

"I am not sure what, ah, parachutes is. Or the Mongol Horde, but I think I understand the rest," I considered with a slow nod. "Yes, silk is very good to wear in battle. And it is more cool than people think that it is. I wear such a long robe, but I do not sweat very much."

[notaparker]

"Functional and stylish," I say, checking out said robe. It is longer than you'd expect to be practical for tropical island wear, but clearly it's working out for him. "Sorry about the talking thing. Bad habit. Well, it's a habit. Are you getting them on the mulberry?"

I try to do this a little slower, without making it like I'm patronizing anyone, but it's a little tricky. I really do love insects and biology and such, and this has me a bit jazzed up.

[patration]

"Thank you very much," I reply to her compliment, letting my sleeve flow with a wave of my hand. I don't often take style too deeply into account, but I have my preferences in colors, which the clothes box has fortunately met. Yellows are my favorite— unfortunate, in that the emperor is usually the sole person who gets to wear so much yellow, with members of his family getting bright accents here and there. On the island, however, there's no such limitation, and so the majority of my robes are in shades of beige, gold, faint honey. "Maybe next time I go to the box, I can find your size."

But I don't allow myself the dramatics for too long, fishing out a box and holding it in her direction, in case she'd like to give it a try. "I have moved some worms to the... mulberry," I say, repeating the unfamiliar word. "Yes. But not all of them. You want to try?"

[notaparker]

"Can I?" I say, voice rising a little with glee. "I appreciate you trusting me with valuable resources like this. Also, with super awesome insect friends. Who produce valuable resources."

[patration]

"Resources are... more fun with friends. More enjoyable," I tell her, although I don't mention the fact that I'm not absolutely certain I know what resources are. I remember encountering the word before, but it's not one too often used in general conversation. Maybe 'resource' means object. Or possessions. It must be something like that, given the context.

"Take," I offer, nudging the box against her hand. "I trust you to be careful."

[notaparker]

"I appreciate it, and will not let you down," I say, a little formally but with genuine delight. I don't know that I'd be as gracious with my precious silkworms.

"Hallo, Mr Silkworm," I say, carefully and slowly reaching in to start effecting a transfer. "You're going to a place where you can eat your heart out and spin all the dense multipurpose thread you want, isn't that exciting?"

[patration]

While I'm sure that I show my delight in a rather different way, there's a sense, almost of camaraderie, that arises as she coos over the worms. They are remarkable, and they deserve to be appreciated, even if they won't know the difference one way or another.

"You are interested in many things, is that right?" I ask, folding my hands neatly behind my back as I walk around to the side of the bush, watching as she prepares to transfer the worms. "You are a fast learner in class. I am very jealous."

[notaparker]

"Hey, I'm at an advantage, I don't have a language or temporal barrier," I say, but my shoulders go back a little with pride, although I try not to let it jostle the worms as I move them. "Not that there's a language barrier, actually, your English is really good."

[patration]

"I work very hard to understand language," I nod, smiling, glancing at the way her back seems to straighten at the well-earned praise. "There are people speak Chinese here, but I cannot take them with me everywhere, make them help me understand. So I spend many night watch the... the projector, films and other movie pictures. It is not so hard as you think, but my writing— that is still not very good. Many misspelling."

Lifting my chin, I glance down at the leaves. "I want to make many thing with the silk. I hope the worm come together and make more. I think I need to make net, keep them here after they change from the..."

I move my hands to try and show the shape of a cocoon.

[notaparker]

"Cocoon," I say, nodding, "that's a good idea. Oh, man, there's so much you can do with this. Did I mention I think silk is awesome? The tensile strength on that stuff! I mean, it's not as high as spider-silk, but it's still really great."

[patration]

"Spider?"

I frown, trying to think of any other creature capable of producing string of a similar sort as silk. I suppose there are other creatures capable of spinning cocoons, but rare is it to find one as docile as the silkworm.

"What is spider-silk?"

[notaparker]

"Um," I say, trying to work out the best way to explain. "Arachnids? No, that's not going to be helpful. Eight legs, eight eyes, make webs? From spider-silk, obviously."

[patration]

Eight legs gives me the most to work with. I think first of octopi, having been made familiar with their taste and texture after working so extensively in the south, but as far as I'm aware, what they produce tends to be far more watery, and I've only ever seen two eyes on any single specimen. (It makes me wonder how long it'd take for two eyes to become eight, but given the limited amount I've learned about evolution, I already suspect that a couple thousand years isn't enough.)

But then it hits me.

"Ah," I reply, putting my hands together and bending my thumbs to hide them from view. I mimic the progress of a spider up a wall. "This? Eat insect?"

[notaparker]

"Yes!" I say, pleased, settling the last silkworm in my hands on the bush and then immediately linking them and doing the itsy-bitsy-spider climbing gesture. "That's them! Catch 'em in webs, wrap 'em in coccoons, eat 'em up. The pest control of the insect world."

I may have a couple of webs cultivated by my windows. It jut makes sense; it keeps the insect population down in my treehouse.

[patration]

"Is too bad we cannot make them come together like the dogs on the island," I point out, teasing. Admittedly, the pets on the island tend to baffle me more often than not; most of the creatures, I've never seen anything of an equivalent of in my world. But the dogs in particular seem to vary so greatly in size, appearance, and even behavior. It's a surprise to see whenever two completely different dogs come together to form a litter.

[notaparker]

"Yeah, I don't think the silkworms would be into that," I say, smiling across my shoulder at him. "That really is too-"

The sentence halts halfway out of my mouth as the idea blinks on in my head. Certainly, we can't mate them and breed for desired traits, but that's not the only way to introduce characteristics into a species, is it?

I let the idea sit for a second, probably looking like someone simply put me on pause. I think it's sound. Actually, I'm sure it is. Probably possible, even with the level of equipment we have here, although I might have to enlist some help. Viable, certainly.

"Zhuge Liang, you're a genius," I say. "What if we could? Not like the dogs do, but what if there was another way to do it?"

And if we could, should we? Being able to do something isn't reason alone to do it.

[patration]

I'm afraid that I'm not following her line of thinking. Or, at least, certainly not quite able to imagine what methodology she has in mind. I can't picture moths and spiders coming together. I've never seen a moth take to anything other than a moth of its own kind. Not even another winged insect.

She says, however, that there might be a different way, and it takes me a few seconds to remind myself that people on this island come from, literally, thousands of years after my time.

Who's to say that they haven't discovered ways of doing things that even believers of magic wouldn't be able to fathom in my age?

"I think you are genius, if you know how to do this," I argue, crossing my arms as I take a step closer, subconsciously, curious.

"How can it happen?"

[notaparker]

"This might get confusing," I say, because we just had a moment where I had trouble conveying the idea of spider, and that's an idea I should be good at communicating. Peter might be a teacher, but I'm still firmly in my student days, smarts or no smarts. "What do you know about genetics? DNA?"

Please be something. Please be something.

[patration]

I lick my lips and wonder for a moment what I should say. I've never quite been in a situation where the younger individual was meant to teach me. Or, at least, someone so much younger, who hasn't in some way volunteered for the job. But I also find myself unable to play along, so my lips curve into a smile, and I shake my head.

"Maybe I go and find book in Chinese. If too confusing to tell me, I can wait. There is no problem."

[notaparker]

"No, I can do this," I say. "I can... attempt to do this, and then find a book to fill in the gaps. And also because it's crazy fascinating."

Where to start...

"DNA is... it's a language, let's say. It's the language that tells an organism what to be, that says... 'Be a wolf. With black fur. The size of a horse.' And when the wolves mate, the wolf cub gets a mix of instructions from either parent. 'Be a wolf. With black and grey fur. The size of a large dog.' With me?"

[patration]

My eyes narrow, taking the idea in. It makes sense that there must be some type of direction that informs how we grow and that differentiates us from the creatures around, although I've never been able to guess how exactly that might happen. That people know about this substance called dianei and, more importantly, how to manipulate it, doesn't surprise me in the slightest.

If anything, it's exciting.

"Yes," I nod, brow furrowed as I watch her intently, as though that might help my understand. "I think I am... with you."

[notaparker]

"So, when I'm from, we've learned to read that language, a fair bit," I say. "We can take a sample and look at it and work out if it's related to someone, for instance. But more relevantly, to an extent we can read part and know that's the bit that says, 'the size of a small pony.' Or, 'produce this kind of silk.'"

[patration]

"Okay," I nod, rubbing my chin thoughtfully. I'm not sure how one would be able to read that aspect of a body, but perhaps more importantly, it's always seemed to me that people are easier read than controlled, and the same rule extends to just about any living creature out there. "But how to change what that say? If a mother has a child, wish to have this language change does not make it happen."

[notaparker]

And maybe shouldn't, indeed. That's been a consideration in the back of my mind since the idea occurred to me. Because, after all, I am not really in favor of genetically engineered people. It's a technology subject to and, frankly, rife with abuse. Because it's out there, and it's causing problems.

Like, say, me.

But with limits, and with oversight... with ethics, critically, I think there's room for progress. I'm not anti-science, I'm anti-abuse of science.

Modifying some silkworms for the benefit of our little society just isn't the same thing as illegally manufacturing a person.

"That's where it gets complicated," I say. "-er. When it gets more complicated. To do that, we take the language, the instructions and... rewrite parts of it, changing the bits we want changed, and kind of... insert it. Use our equipment to tell the little organism what to be, basically."

[patration]

"Hmm."

I press my fingers to my lips in thought. It's not easy to decide if this is a good idea so shortly after having heard about it at all. The notion of choosing what someone or something might be at birth is strange, and I'm not sure why. We tell people how to change as soon as they're born. Parents try to keep their children from crying, or teach them to be polite, hard-working, and we train animals when we can to make them perform a certain function.

So why does it feel strange to be changing them before that point?

"Do you think this is good idea?" I ask her, honestly looking for feedback.

[notaparker]

"I think so," I say, pursing my lips slightly and watching the silkworms situate themselves on their new home (socute). "But I'm going to think about it some more, and I'm going to talk to some people. I don't think- with stuff like this, I don't think barreling ahead without giving it due consideration is the way to proceed. It's not something I take lightly."

[patration]

"And I can find book," I nod at the plan, because I'm not comfortable making promises one way or the other before I really know what this entire process involves. Does it mean harming the worms as they are now? Is it completely irreversible? Is it something that has precedent, or is it entirely new? There's so much that I need to consider and learn before I can decide one way or the other, but I'm glad that I have someone else doing the same. "Then we make choice together. Who do you want to talk to about this? Maybe I talk to them also."

[notaparker]

Good question. I'm not actually sure if Peter's the person to talk to. He knows his stuff, and I think this is an area where our opinions probably won't be carbon copies of each other's, but he's also done some questionable stuff lately, science-wise.

Actually, anything-wise.

Which leaves... who?

"Hank McCoy, I think," I say. He knows his genetics, that's for sure. "Both Drs McCoy, actually. And maybe Charles Xavier."

That might be awkward, but he does seem to have a level head, and it's his field, too.

[patration]

I hope that I'll be able to pull these names properly from my memory once I pass by the clinic and labs later. It's far more difficult to recall names that have no place in one's language, no equivalent sound or meaning. It's interesting; speaking to some people, many go their entire lives without knowing the meaning of their words, or time eroding the names until they hardly resemble their root at all.

Such never happens with our names, back home. The meaning is far more important than the sound.

"They are related?" I ask, raising a brow. "Two doctor McCoy?"

[notaparker]

"Coincidence, I am pretty sure," I say. "One's from the 1960s and one is a doctor from space, and there's no way one's a descendant of the other."

Pretty sure it would have been a different series if Bones had had the X-gene.

[patration]

"Ahh," I nod, still finding the sound of the name itself interesting. I know that I don't have any room to speak with authority on the matter of surnames from different parts of the world (or different worlds altogether), but it sounds so foreign to my ears. "I will look for these people and ask questions. I will also wait for you advice. But I think it is, how you say, a very cool idea."

[notaparker]

I grin, widening by the second, and stick out my hand.

"I do, too," I confess, "and look forward to working with you. Even if that doesn't pan out, actually, I'd like to help out with the silkworms. If that's cool."

[patration]

"I would be very happy to have help; it is not one person job," I reply, reaching out to shake her hand, before then clasping my left on top, hopefully implying twice the amount of gratitude. "Thank you, Jessica Drew."