Salmonella men on Planet Porno: stories - By Yasutaka Tsutsui Page 0,90
those would have taken too long to fell, so we concentrated on cutting tree ferns, which we bound together with rope to form a rectangular raft about twelve foot square. By the time we’d transferred the baggage onto the raft, camouflaged the hovercar under fronds of fern and launched the raft onto the lake, the suns had already started to set.
“Only thirty minutes to nightfall!” said Mogamigawa in dismay as he eyed his wristwatch, having done nothing himself but constantly hustle and bellow at us. “Can we cross to the other side in thirty minutes?”
“Yes, if we all use our poles together,” I replied with an ironic grin.
He pulled a sullen face. “Are you expecting me to use my pole?”
“Yeah, just like you do with your wife every night,” Yohachi whispered in my ear.
We had brought three collapsible plastic poles with which to propel the raft. We extended them to a length of about fifteen feet, took one each and climbed aboard. As we pushed our poles into the edges and bottom of the lake, pockets of air came bubbling up to the water’s surface around the raft, accompanied by a reddish-brown mud. We pulled away from the lake’s edge.
Every now and again, blood-red algae would come up entangled on our poles.
“That’s bleedweed,” I said. “Makes my skin crawl every time I see it.”
“If there’s so much bleedweed here, there must also be a good number of matchbox jellyfish,” Mogamigawa said as he cackhandedly manoeuvred his pole. “They’ll be surfacing any moment now.”
Before I could say “Well postulated,” a swarm of rectangular jellyfish that resembled large translucent matchboxes came floating up to the surface and eagerly huddled around our raft belly-side up, mouths agape and tentacles swaying.
“Swimming upside down as usual. What an obscene creature.”
“Also known as the jacuzzi or missionary jellyfish.”
“I did some research on these once,” said Mogamigawa. “They have ectodermal reproductive glands and appear to eat bleedweed, as well as various species of vegetable plankton.”
“Do they sting?” asked Yohachi.
“Well, considering how very obscene they are, they’re obviously going to sting, aren’t they,” said Mogamigawa, staring at Yohachi maliciously. “Why not try grabbing one?”
“They only sting before reproducing,” I explained to Yohachi, then turned back to Mogamigawa. “And when they do, it doesn’t really hurt but is a rather pleasant feeling. Why do you think that is?”
“That’s precisely my point,” he replied sourly. “Their pre-reproductive nematocysts contain poison, like that of earth jellyfish. I’m analysing this poison now, but it seems somehow to display anaphylaxis. That is, the first sting only has a mild effect on the ejaculatory centre, but with increased frequency the resistivity is lowered, finally leading to ejaculation. It’s the opposite of immunity.”
“Have you tried it out?” I said with a snort of laughter. “Oh. Sorry.”
Mogamigawa gave me a murderous look.
“Let’s catch a few of them, then!” said Yohachi.
A gentle splish-splashing noise could be heard. I looked back towards the shore, which was already about fifty yards behind us.
One by one, a colony of gurgling alligators, which appeared to have been basking on mudflats some distance from our launch point, were starting to slip into the lake.
“Do you think they’re coming after us?” Mogamigawa said anxiously.
“But of course,” I answered as I vigorously thrust my pole down to the bottom of the lake. “And in some numbers. Let’s make haste!”
The alligators, somewhat smaller than the earth variety, started to approach our raft in groups. Although some seemed to have concealed themselves underwater, dozens of them swam just under the water’s surface, showing only the tips of their snouts, their eyes and the tops of their bony backs, which resembled dorsal fins. They closed in on us at speed, making no sound in the water except the lazy gurgling noise of breath flapping out of their nostrils.
“If they all come here, the raft will capsize!” Mogamigawa shrieked while frantically working his pole. “What do they want from us?!”
“Our chastity,” I replied. “They have a habit of mating with other species.”
“If they drag us underwater we’ll drown!” Mogamigawa wailed. “Isn’t there anything we can do? How did you get over this last time?”
“By getting to the other side quickly. The opposite shore is the territory of eleventh-hour crocodiles…”
Just at that moment, the alligators approaching underwater must have risen to the surface, for the raft suddenly listed to one side. We all lurched with it.
Mogamigawa crouched down on the surface of the raft to prevent himself from falling. “These must all be females, then?” he asked.