Chapter Twenty-One - Memorable Mem

The first thing I did was to find a stone to sit upon. Not that I minded standing, but it was a little bit more comfortable to rest while seated. My rear was a little bony (oh-hoho!) so I didn’t mind sitting on a large rock.

“If I may interject.” I said. “Perhaps you should start a little sooner. Tell us about yourself.”

The mantis, Mem, shuffled from side to side, her scythes scraping together in a way that I could only read as anxiety. “Mem’s not interesting,” she said.

“I don’t know about that,” the limpet said. She was still standing, arms crossed and legs set. She likely still had the impression that this was a military intervention, that she was a commander interrogating an adversary. While she was technically correct, that did show a certain inability to read the room.

Not that we were in a room.

Mem looked around, and seeing little support, made herself a little smaller. “When do you want Mem to start?” she asked.

The limpet opened her mouth, closed it, then considered. “Fine, tell us about yourself, like how you grew up, and where you’re from. If Master thinks it’s important to know, then it’s important to know.”

The mantis rubbed at one eye with an elbow. “Mem can do that. Mem is from the Mother, the Queen of All. She is Mom, and she is the one that names all of Mem’s sisters and also named Mem, and who ate many cultivators to make eggs that become more sisters.”

The mantis settled a little on the spot, her eyes twitching towards Rem who stood by the side and listened.

“Mem and her sisters are from the Flaming Steppes, a place near a big city filled with humans called Yu Xiang. Mem was raised with a lot of other sisters, but they were eaten by Mom before they grew big enough to get names.”

“The Divine Mother only allows the strongest mantises to live,” Rem said.

Mem nodded. “Yes. Mem heard that a lot. But Mem isn’t strong. Still, Mem wasn’t eaten because Mem was good at being sneaky, and whenever Mom would reach in to grab some of Mem’s sisters to eat, Mem would trip and avoid Mom’s grasp.”

“You’re not supposed to call the Divine Mother Mom,” Rem muttered.

“Mem heard humans call their moms mom, so Mem calls her mom Mom too.”

“Impeccable reasoning,” I said while hiding my amusement. If nothing else, calling a god by a certain name long enough would warp them, if only slightly, having someone with Mem’s power... which wasn’t all that terribly noticeable, but was still greater than the average man’s--call her ‘Mom’ would perhaps irritate the goddess in question.

Irritating gods, as illogical and occasionally foolhardy as it was, was always a great source of amusement for me.

Mem shook a little, and I had the impression that she was suppressing some excitement. “That was how Mem remembers her early life. It was a lot of being scared and falling away from problems.”

“Clumsy stupid,” Rem muttered.

“Mem is both, yes. Mem’s other sisters said so often. Mom named Mem, but Mem doesn’t think she deserves it.”

“How old are you?” the limpet asked.

Mem tilted her head. “Mem is... one hundred years old? A bit more. Mem has been around for a while.”

“Wow,” the limpet said. “I suppose you’ve done a lot in that time?”

Mem was excited for a moment, then calmed down and slumped back into something akin to depression. “Mem isn’t good at fighting, or hunting, or killing things, so Mem thought she could do other stuff. Some sisters do that.”

“Oh?” the limpet asked. She’d sniffed out some potential for information.

“Yes! Sister Bin collects things that the humans throw away and makes big houses from them. Sisters Bum and Dom run this place where humans go for mating and they make a lot of gold for Mom. Sister Bun became an explorer and she saw all sorts of things,” Mem said. “She’s very nice when she comes back.”

“I see,” the limpet said. “What did you try to do?”

Mem shifted and tilted her head down, her antenna coming around to partially cover her eyes. “Mem went to see the humans first, and she tried to become the sister that would give other sisters hugs, but no one liked that.”

“Uh,” the limpet said.

“So Mem tried other things. She bought a lot of cats and tried to help her other sisters like them. Cats are nice. They are soft and they purr when you’re nice to them.”

“Tasty!” Rem said.

Mem slumped even more. “Mom and the other sisters were happy because they kept eating Mem’s cats.”

The limpet looked my way. She seemed confused.

“Mem tried to raise dogs. Dogs are nice because they love you. And Mem had many dogs, and even if Mem couldn’t pet them well, she tried her best, and the dogs loved Mem. Dogs are good at finding things too. Mem thought we could use the dogs for finding stuff, but when Mem brought the dogs to show Mom and the other sisters...” Mem made a buzzing noise that sounded distressed.

“You need to skin the fur first because otherwise it sticks to your mandibles,” Rem said. “But still very tasty.”

“You ate Mem’s dogs?” the limpet shouted at Rem.

Rem raised her arms, obviously confused. “Just a few! She kept bringing more!”

“You can’t eat someone’s dogs!” the limpet said.

Rem huffed. “Yes you can. Bring me your dog, I’ll show you how.”

The limpet glared at Rem, then she turned towards Mem. “Alright, fine, your past was... awful. Why were you here tonight? With soldiers and cultivators?”

Mem shrugged, a very human gesture that seemed strange with her long scythes. “A few weeks ago, Mom told everyone that we had to go out and start looking for someone. Mem wasn’t paying too much attention.”

“Of course,” the limpet said. “Go on.”

“Mem thought about going out on her own, but Mem isn’t good at finding people. The sect from Opalhorn sent some people to help and they said that for every mantis that joined, they’d give a whole bunch of soldiers and a cultivator to help.”

“So, you joined to have troops to help you,” the limpet said. She nodded at her own conclusion.

Mem looked at her, then shook her head. “No, Mem joined because the cultivator said that Mem would get some humans to help her, and the help Mem needs is to have more friends.”

“Did... you succeed?” the limpet asked.

Mem wobbled. “A little! The mean cultivator with Mem was mean. He said rude things and called Mem names, just like everyone else. But he died. The humans with Mem almost all survived, and some of them are very nice to Mem. They listen when Mem talks, and earlier, after Mem surrendered, one of them gave Mem a pat and told her that she did good!”

The lipet’s face twisted and she turned my way. “Master, I’m not feeling so good about all of those deaths.”

“Oh? Why’s that?” I asked.

“I feel like I just assaulted a child, it’s wrong.”

I shrugged my bony shoulders. “Perhaps. Mem and her humans were captured by you and your troops, it’s up to you to decide what to do with them.”

“Uh,” the limpet said.

Mem fell to the floor, face buried into the sandy ground. “Please! Don’t hurt Mem’s humans!” she begged. “Mem doesn’t want them to be hurt, they’re her responsibility.”

“I won’t,” the limpet said. “I won’t hurt your humans. But, um, I still have some questions, please?”

Mem jumped to her feet and bobbed her head up and down. “Mem will answer!”

“Okay, so first, how did you know to come here? To the shore, I mean,” the limpet asked.

It was a fine question. Being able to track an opponent was a valuable skill, not to be underestimated. If knowing how someone was doing that allowed you to counter it, or better yet, use it against them, then it could be doubly valuable for an opponent.

The only issue of course, was discovering how an enemy knew. Most commanders were wise enough not to let such vital tactics become widely known--

“Oh, there’s a magic compass,” Mem said. “It points to the most dead thing. And this time it pointed this way.”

“I see,” the limpet said. “And what was your plan once you got here?”

“Mem thinks it was to find the mean undead person and kill them, but Mem wasn’t sure how that was meant to happen when they’re already dead. It’s very confusing to Mem. Once, one of Mem’s puppies died because it ate something that hurt its tummy, and Mem cried and hugged it carefully and rocked it, but it stayed dead and cold until Gon showed up and took it for a snack.”

“Well, okay then.” The limpet turned to me again. “Now what do we do with them? Just... let them go?”

“You can do that,” I said. “Though it might be somewhat dangerous. A better idea might be to escort them to a safe location.”

“Ah,” she said. “I think... maybe the Lava Fist sect would take them? They were nice for a sect, and I think they’d understand about the whole surrender thing without being too... cultivator-ish about it.”

“Thank you!” Mem cheered. “Mem is very happy that her humans will be safe.”

“That includes you,” the limpet said.

Mem froze, like a bug that had seen a bigger, nastier bug coming. “Oh... yes, okay.”

“What? What is it?” limpet asked.

“Mem did a bad. Now Mom will eat Mem. It’s normal. But in the end, Mem made her humans safe, so it’s worth it.”

The limpet turned to me, yet again, this time with poorly concealed distress in her eyes. I wish I was projecting some eyes of my own so that I could roll them.

“Perhaps you can keep the enemy commander hostage? I’m certain you could find some work for her.”

“You don’t need her,” Rem said. “I’m here already.”

“I wouldn’t mind training another butler,” Alex said.

“What!” Rem shouted. “Stupid! I’m very time consuming to teach! I take all of your time. I make lots of stupid mistakes and you won’t have time to teach more people. Especially not Mem.”

“Mem isn’t very good at working,” Mem said. “But Mem tries really, really hard.”

Rem started to clean her scythes off with quick, screeching strokes. “You’re just trying to steal Rem’s place,” she said.

“No! Mem wouldn’t steal stuff. Stealing is mean.”

The limpet rubbed at her face. “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?” she muttered.

I nodded. “Kindness is often regretted, but it sometimes comes with its own unique rewards.”

“Alright,” the limpet said. She pointed to Mem. “Mem, we’ll be visiting the Lava Fist sect soon to bring your humans... I mean, the sect soldiers, back to civilisation. On the way over, you can serve as my... um... dogwalker. You can take care of Fang Fang, my dog. If you do a good job, then I’ll... do something. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Mem raised her scythes up, then, in a strange display I’d never seen before, started to shake and make strange, gurgling hisses.

“W-what is she doing?” the limpet asked.

I, too, was curious.

“Mem! You stupid! Stop dancing, it’s ugly. The Divine Mother doesn’t want us dancing in front of humans and undead.”

Mem stopped, her rear swung way out, and a pair of vestigial wings stretching the cloth of her tunic. “But Mem is very happy.”

“Stupid!” Rem shouted.

I had the impression that things were growing to be quite interesting. The sort of interesting that toppled nations and that made for great research papers.