Christian Parker Week 2 Part 2

Laurel led Christian and Alan through the corridors of Atlas until they reached a patio that opened onto a beach. It was warmer than anywhere else in Atlas, though the clouds still hid the sun.

Hermit crabs moved up and down the sand. Fruits and fungi were scattered across the beach for them to find.

“So, I spent like six hours researching hermit crabs, and I’m gonna get stuff wrong,” Laurel declared. “Basically, they’re the least human animal that seems capable of murder and robbery, so they’re perfect.”

“Um, they’re crabs,” Christian said.

“They know what shells they like, and they know other hermit crabs like the same shells. They fight to the death over shells, and they steal shells they like and leave the old owner to die. They can also trade shells peacefully. They already live in the corpses of other animals. If any species on Earth can’t object to being used for necromancy, it’s hermit crabs.”

“Let’s just go with it,” Alan suggested to Christian.

“I guess we already agreed to do necromancy...” Christian shrugged.

“Yeah. We’ve got like a thousand hermit crabs. Some of them arrived dead, and some died after they got to the beach.” Laurel walked over to a table that held several shells with dead hermit crabs inside. “So, tell me what you think we’re doing.”

Laurel’s eyes locked on Christian. The chronologically younger girl swallowed nervously. “We make the hermit crabs move with magic. That’s what we’re learning, right?”

“That’s what we’re starting with.” Laurel nodded. “We’re also going to resurrect the hermit crabs. That makes it our job to make sure they’re happy.” She gestured at the patch of air she’d decided was a camera. “You can see why we’d want to care for creatures weaker than ourselves on this show, right?”

“Oh.” Christian nodded. “What do hermit crabs want?”

“Better shells, mostly.” Laurel grinned. “Six hours told me they do a lot to improve natural shells, and they already use random human garbage in a pinch. I bet we can make a type of shell they go crazy over, and give one to each of our hermit crabs. In exchange, we learn necromancy by exploring their dead. Do either of you have objections?”

“I guess not.” Alan looked at Laurel with an odd expression. “You’re taking this seriously.”

“My mother’s a witch. Life and death are important. Hermit crabs are family, after all.” Laurel smiled softly.

“What?” Christian frowned, puzzled.

“You do know there’s one origin for all life on Earth, right?” Laurel looked excited. “Every living thing is part of the same chemical reaction, and it goes back almost as far as Earth’s had a solid surface that could leave evidence. There’s nothing anywhere else, either.”

“Wait, repeat that last part.” Alan gave her a serious look. “Are you saying there aren’t any aliens? Also, Grandma told me the same thing."

“Other dimensions probably have aliens, but there are none in our little world. We’ve been looking, and if life were common, it wouldn’t be subtle.” Laurel looked enthused. “Everything that’s ever had a thought is family. That’s what worshipping nature meant to my mother. Has she changed, Alan?”

“She still believes that.” Alan nodded.

“So we do this right. Pets are family. When we resurrect hermit crabs, we’re raising our least cute relatives.” Laurel looked content. “Now for the really gross part.” She reached into her bathrobe and pulled out two small plastic bottles.

“Oh, c’mon!” Christian whined.

“Why are we drinking your milk?” Alan asked.

“I need to fuck around inside your brains. That’s easier if part of me gets to diffuse through your bodies. This is how everyone gets magic unless they’re starting from scratch, and starting from scratch could kill you or drive you crazy. So we’re going to do unplanned brain surgery to make you both necromancers.”

“Is this safe?” Alan asked, rhetorically.

“Oh, fuck no. If we weren’t on Harem Hotel, I’d spend months working out how to do this. Fortunately, Ariadne’s not gonna let anyone stay dead or go crazy in a way that isn’t fun. Now drink the creepy potion and let me figure this out.”

“Well, if you put it like that—” Alan swallowed it in one gulp. A VP counter ticked up by one. Christian followed his lead.

Laurel got to work.